"Thank you, Peter," said Smoker.

As if TWO people were needed to check out an already-handled 'police incident'... yet it was kind of the man to offer, and Smoker was not one to rebuff kindness.

Showing their picture IDs to the MPs guarding the lobby and front entrance, they made their way to the commotion. The experience of working street lights was a novel experience for Smoker. Being from the mining town of Deadwod, Peter was more used to the bright lights, and in truth Junkyard kind of reminded him of his old city, if perhaps a more industrial version.

A block over, there was a police line across the mouth of an alleyway between two buildings. Bored-looking MPs stood beside a Militia technical that provided them with transport.

Peter shook his head slightly, trying to get the wash of memories from his mind for the moment. It wouldn't do to get lost in Deadwood when the here and now could be dangerous. AS they walked up to the MPs standing guard, Peter raised an eyebrow. "So. What is the story here, gentlemen?"

In reply to Peter Firecrow (msg # 136):

There were a few night owls drifting closer, and the closest MP obviously thought they were of the same ilk. Her tone was both somehow dismissive without being too disrespectful.

"Nothing to see here. Just move along, sir."

Past her, Peter could see what appeared to be a pair of detectives standing or squatting over a body, examining it with hand torches. There was an enormous amount of blood present. The body wasn't all in one piece.

"Excuse me, officer," said Smoker. "We are part of a security detail, our principal's in the Hilton. We're checking to ensure that no threat exists. What happened here, please?"

Obviously not believing Smoker's story absent some proof, she moved to block his view more. With a nod, the other MPs look more alert, like there may be trouble.

"Sure, you're some VIP's bodyguard I believe you. Look, nothing happened here that ain't happened a million times before. Like I said, time to move along...

"Ortiz, didn't I say to set a wider perimeter? Any clown can just walk up here!"

"The ordinary event can obscure a threat," says Smoker, rather cryptically. "So, what exactly did happen here? Commonplace or not, I still need to know."

In reply to Smoker Nix (msg # 140):

The MP sergeant was rapidly going from bored to annoyed.

"Oh really? You need to know? Let me make it simple, sir. No you don't, buddy. Move. Along. Now, please."

It was obvious that without some kind of obvious proof, like maybe a picture ID of some kind, she didn't believe Smoker was anything other than some bystander. Likely a nutter. But Smoker had never been given picture ID before now, likely couldn't even fathom what such an ID would be useful for.

Smoker is wearing his picture ID visibly having been reminded to do so by hotel security. Perhaps this rent-a-cop is not very observant?

Peter held his ID up to the MP's eye level. "We are indeed a VIP's bodyguard as you so bluntly put it. Feel free to call in ask if you have not been told previously. We are staying at the Hilton. We were asked to investigate this to make sure that it is not a precursor to some sort of larger event. If you insist on being obstinate, I will be happy to go back and speak to your superiors about this. They will be able to tell me what you refuse to. What is your name so I can let them know?"

He is not threatening at all, just speaking calmly. He isn't trying to get the guard angry. He's hoping to keep things quiet and rational.

In reply to Peter Firecrow (msg # 143):

"Sergeant Casby, Company C, 1st MP Batallion," she replied, unapologetically. "I see your ID, all right. Please feel free to hand them over any time."

She wondered if these Brainers assumed she had some kind of cybernetic X-ray vision or other sensing apparatus that would allow her to verify it without it being presented. She guessed the younger Brainer had never seen an ID that wasn't attached to a charred skeleton and didn't know how they actually worked. "OK, thanks. This will take a few minutes."

Using an electronic reader, she carefully checked the IDs out and verified they were valid in the database. A short conversation on the radio followed, where she (unhappily) confirmed they could pretty much have the run of the immediate area. She handed them their ID back along with disposable gloves and plastic overshoe booties to slip on over their shoes.

"OK, you're cleared. Sorry for the delay, gentlemen. Go straight down the middle of the alley to the detectives, pay attention to where you're stepping, do whatever the detectives say. Don't touch anything. Good luck."

Peter gave her a small smile. "Good. I will tell them you are doing a good job. I would not want just anyone to be able to just walk up and bluff their way past you. I will commend you if you like."

He handed over the badge and let her scan it. He gave a nod of thanks for the information. "Thank you. I hope you have a pleasant evening."

He stepped down the alley to where the detectives had been indicated to be at. "Hello. I was hoping you could fill us in?"

Seeing Peter handing over his ID, Smoker did so as well. He watched curiously as it was scanned. So that's how they worked... peculiar.

He took the gloves and booties with a grunt, and nearly fell over trying to put the booties on. (Next time, lean against the wall, idiot, he told himself.) He followed Peter towards the crime scene.

In reply to Peter Firecrow (msg # 145):

The MP nodded her thanks. She obviously wondered what the half-feral bodyguards of some Waster warlord "VIP" would want with an obviously unrelated homicide. But hers was not to question why.

When they carefully approached the detectives, the two male detectives exchanged long-suffering looks. Sighing, one stood up and stretched, turning off some kind of detection apparatus slung over one shoulder. "I'm Detective Chin, that's Detective Morrison. Junkyard PD. Pleased to meet you." He didn't actually sound pleased.

The other detective continued using his scanner on the alley, methodically sweeping the area with a DNA-sensing laser.

"Just starting our investigation. The deceased is one Flowers, Nico, aka "The Sword". Although, as he has a circular saw grafted to his left arm, that seems to be somewhat inappropriate. Star player for the skullchucker team known as The Screamin' Demons. Cause of death, exanguination. Blood loss due to sharp trauma. Time of death fifteen minutes ago. Definitely a homicide. DNA is inconclusive. Toxicology indicates the victim had high levels of alcohol in his bloodstream, no drugs. DNA scans are inconclusive. Wallet is still here. All body parts are accounted for and due to the amount of blood we think this is where he was killed. No witnesses, big surprise. Surveillance cameras haven't worked in years."

Indeed, they recognised the name as being a player in the earlier skullchucker game against the "Canned Heat". The Screamin' Demons had lost the game but Flowers had put his arm-mounted saw to good use on the opposing team. Entertaining but short of lethal. He was now in several pieces. Both legs and his right arm had been severed. His neck had also been almost been severed but the killer had stopped just short of decapitation. There was an enourmous amount of blood present.

Peter frowned. "That is a shame. We just saw that person play in the game earlier." That was said slightly absentmindedly however. His focus was on the blood loss...sorry blood drain!

"That...sounds...does this seem like it might be a vampire attack?"

"Wouldn't vampires have wanted the blood?" asked Smoker, innocently. Something over by the dumpster seemed to have caught his eye, he went over to take a closer look.

Peter nodded. He was getting a bit jumpy. Cyborg infiltrators, whatever was killing things back at Boise, etc. Too much for an old Native American.]

"Hmm. True. So if you kill someone and you do not take their wallet and you do not drain their blood...likely either they wanted information or revenge I would guess. I assume this Nico Flowers had no connection to the Hilton or the militia?"

In reply to Peter Firecrow (msg # 150):

Detective Chin answered, "if it was a "vampire", or someone who thinks they are, then they are very messy. Looking around, I'd say the blood is all here. It's just everywhere. Plus, no bite marks. "Exanguination" just means catastrophic external blood loss, not internal bleeding. Blood pressure drops, consciousness is lost as the brain is starved of oxygen, the victim dies."

Chin checked his device. "Flowers had a lot of enemies both on and off the field. Not well-liked. Some arrests for assault but that was a while ago. We figure it was revenge, a personal beef or a Moorlock attack."
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:24, Sat 28 June 2014.

"Moorlock?" inquired Smoker, who hadn't heard the term before.

Peter looked up at the last name. It sounded really similar to the creatures from an H.G. Wells' book. They were supposedly albino ape-like creatures that ran the machines underground and ate the people that lived above ground. He repressed a shudder.

"The "Moorlocks" are a local gang. Beneath street level is the "Underground", a sublevel going down about ten-fifteen stories deep in places. Because of a lack of space under the Dome and traffic congestion, Hellstromme Industries excavated major throughfares, parkades, passenger tunnels, even a shopping mall and theatre under the downtown. Under the industrial sector are warehouses and factory levels. It's mostly sealed off now but either some illegal entrances were missed or have been dug since then because there are still some people down there. A gang called the Moorlocks live there and they come up to deal drugs, sell whatever hasn't yet been looted down there or they steal up here for food. Any unexplained crime or disappearance is blamed on the Moolocks."

He looked like he wanted to continue but stopped himself. "Oh man, here comes the Sergeant. Gentlemen, I think it's time to leave."

Actually, Peter and Smoker recalled that in the parkade level below the hotel was a massive metal door of some kind. This was probably a sealed-off entrance to the rest of the Underground.

Smoker sidled over to Firecrow.

"Pete," he murmured, "I don't know if we want to show the cops, but there's a Templar cross, fresh-painted in blood, over by the dumpster where I was poking around."

Peter listened to the explanation and shook his head slightly. So it was a bastardization of the Morlocks from the Time Machine sort of. But there was a city underneath the city? Fascinating!

He gave a nod to the detectives. "Thank you for your time and information. Have a good day."

He lead Smoker away, speaking quietly once they were away from the scene and MPs. "No. I do no think we should. But I think we should ask Simon and Fred if they know the man killed or any reason why someone would paint that at a murder nearby."

The Detective Sergeant gave both of them a hard look as she passed by, heading to the crime scene. She started chewing out the detectives there for letting "amateurs" past the police line. Even if they had the right ID.

In reply to The Marshall (msg # 157):

As an MP let them under the police tape, they saw Fred in the crowd. He appeared to be recording the incident in typical Librarian fashion, and put down his palmcorder as they approached.

"This was a player from the "skullchucker" match today? I got the name of the poor fellow from one of the MPs. I don't recognise his name. He's never been to Boise that I know of, and Simon's never been to Junkyard that I know of, either. What do you make of this situation?"