A Different Kind of Storybook

[Maijorie Gensitine - Venice, Italy - October 14, 2008 - 4:40 PM]

I made my way into the middle of the room so I had a clearer view of the people on the stange. "Is this really all we have?" I demanded. "Just an obvious description of the man/woman that has called themsef the Black Fox? What are we going to do if there's nothing to lead us on? You can't seriously expect us to just scour Venice until one of us just has dumb luck and finds him, are you?" I crossed my arms against my chest.

The two on the stage exchanged glances briefly. They can't be serious! I thought, a little dumbfounded. The woman, Alanna Kozachuk, looked a little annoyed at me. "Of course that's not what we expect. Who are you to think that the Venice Police are as stupid to do that anyway?"

I felt the corners of my lips twitch up in a slight grin. "Maijorie Gensitine of the SIS/M16 from Rome, and I can tell you right now that we didn't come here just to play hide and seek with a criminal." All eyes turned on me now, but no one else spoke, probably waiting for one of us to say something else.

Peter-

Peter walked back into the room to see Alanna and another man on the stage introducing themselves. From what he gathered nobody had any idea who this Black Fox figure was. Everyone eventually fell silent and you could have heard a pin drop in the room. Then conversation picked up again and people started throwing accusatory comments this way and that and flat out we were getting no where.

"So, is this as serious as we are going to get?" he asked raising his voice, "I mean, we are all meeting in a hotel dining room and talking about what we don't have and what we shouldn't do. If we want to outsmart this guy and actually catch him we are going to have to get serious."

"And what do you propose exactly?" The man on the stage next to Alanna, Seul, asked.

"Well, we could start by getting a better place to meet, a police station maybe? Or a conference room, I mean something. And then we could start with the basics. Compile a list of all of the attacks/robberies/murders ect, by the black fox, then run a few Venn Diagrams. See if it is interrelated, and figure out if he is leaving us any clues, a signature. Criminals love to receive the glory for their work, it's an ego thing." Peter fell silent while the others contemplates. He knew he was right, if they really wanted to catch this guy they would have to be one step ahead of him at all times.

They would have to start thinking like criminals.

Samuel Andrews

It was with great interest that Sam listened to the squabbling and accusing of the various detectives, jotting words down in his unreadable hand. However, he did grimace in distaste as his other partner introduced herself in a self important voice as she stood central of the room, trying to command attention. She couldn't even command a classroom, Sam thought sourly.

Then peter spoke. Sam's eyes were drawn to him instantly, like a magnet. He felt a growing respect for the man with whom he only had a fleeting acquaintance. Sam listened to his words carefully, nodding. And then touched Isabella's hand to gain her attention.

"We're working with him," Sam murmured quietly. She blinked.

"Aren't we working with everyone?" Isabella queried, her eyes flickering in Peter's direction. Sam grinned before standing and applauding gently. The murmurs of discussion died down as the eyes turned this time to Samuel.

"Peter makes an excellent point. I'd like to make another. There's a reason that so many of us were chosen to work on this mission. There's a lot of work to do and the more hands we have, the better. However, as you can see, all in the same room we just get in each other's way. So I suggest we form teams. What we need is a central base where we can all meet daily to share information. And I don't see why that shouldn't be this hotel if we're all already staying here?" He paused a moment. "We can meet for meals and deal with the business of eating and the business of information at the same time. It's not text book I know but when you're working in the field, the rules are different. So who wants to accompany me to the morgue?"

((Sorry about my long absence. I've been working a lot lately and I haven't had time to pull up a good post. If it's ok with you, Bella, could you keep controlling Alanna through the information parts? It'd be nice because I really haven't a whole picture as to what's going on yet.))

((Alanna))

Alanna sighed. Beside her Akellah sniffed the air happily. Alanna watched her intently; Akellah had gotten a quick and faint scent of the Black Fox during an autopsy. The wolfhound sat contently, leading Alanna to believe that it wasn't one of them. But then again all the scents had been mixed up and they were different in Italy. She'd have to wait to have Akellah seek them out individually.

"The morgue sounds like a good idea." Alanna smiled faintly. Clever man. "We can introduce you all to the way the Black Fox kills. Also, if we have time, we can stop at police headquarters. My boss knows more about the case than I do. He can give us what he can. And if we do form teams I suggest they be fairly large teams. If we split into smaller teams we'll come up with the same evidence and get no where. Although that would be good for confirmation getting the same leads would allow the Black Fox more time. We need medium sized groups, maybe four or five."

[Maijorie Gensitine]

The room was silent for a few beats, and then the woman and man spoke again. My respect for the two, or anyone else in this room for that matter, wasn't all that high. This could have been for the fact that they usually had me working alone. Just the thought of having to be with... with... partners made me shudder.

"So, are we all going to morgue or have you decided a number of people, like, as you said, a group?" I asked, out of curiousity instead of disgust this time. "And are we going to leave now? Or is there more you have to tell us?"

I sighed, knowing that I'd have to be polite to my... partners to get this done a little quicker. This might be harder than I thought...

Peter:

Peter walked over to the table where he had left his jacket and picked it up. He pulled it on and looked over at Sam, "I'm ready." He said. He just wanted to move things along and get down to buisness.

*sorry have to go to work...will finish later...or you can just go off this its really short I know...sorry again but work!*

Isabella Milan - Dining Room of the Regalia - 5 pm

"I think it'd be better if I stayed here, in order to see what else there is to look at," I commented quietly, so that only Sam would hear me.

"Sounds like a good idea," he agreed, nodding slightly. "Okay, I think we should just split the group near in a half for now. Perhaps slightly smaller for those visiting the morgue, so we aren't cramped. Alanna, would you care to escort us?"

"All right." the officer agreed.

"Maijorie and Peter both already opted to join us; anyone else?"

A few people hesitantly stepped forward.

"All right. So we have Alanna, Maijorie, Peter, Ray, and Conner accompanying me to the morgue?" Sam noted, counting off the people who stepped forward. "Let's go!"

Alanna led him out of the room, and the others followed.

"What are the rest of us supposed to do?" Milo, a CIA member, asked, stepping forward.

"I think we should look at the most recent crime scene - perhaps try to find things that have been missed, and gather our own information," I replied, looking through the group.


PLEASE CHECK THE DISCUSSION THREAD

Johnathon ran up to Isabella ''So what are we doing at this crime scene?'' Johnathon was a newbie so most people thought he was stupid but he wasn't. As he walked along he saw versions, dead people and soul flying around. But he was used to it now. A spirt walked past him, it looked like Isabella. She wasn't dead?

Serenity, please watch your post lengths and please follow the rules that I posted. I added one in my last post on the Discussion Thread asking that you post your name, location, and the time at the top of your posts. Thank you!

Isabella Milan - the streets of Venice, heading toward a crime scene - 5:06 pm

I watched the man, Johnathon, for a moment. From what his file said, he was fairly new to the CIA, so why they had put him on such an important case was a mystery to me.

He was a medium - this could serve useful considering that spirits tended to remain where they were murdered at. Perhaps he could give us some insight into the Black Fox's appearance.

Although, why he didn't know what we were doing completely baffled me.

"We're investigating," I replied, knowing that wouldn't be enough to satiate his curiosity. "We'll be looking around the newest crime scene, trying to find any evidence that may lead us to the identity of this Black Fox."

Samuel Andrews (Drew Harlow to everyone except Isabella); The Morgue; 5:15pm

It wasn't a long walk to the morgue but by the end, Samuel had filled another twelve pages with little notes. He was just turning onto the thirteenth page, pen poised when Ray A'llen exploded:

"What the hell are you writing now?" Sam turned to face him and casually held the notebook up while maintaining his stride alongside Alanna. They were walking down a dimly lit flight of steps now, towards a bulky, grey door.

"It's written in code," Ray spluttered angrily.

"I'm writing hot-headed next to your name, kid," Sam said, exaggerating the movements of his fingers so the man could almost make out the words they carved. In actuality, Sam was jotting down 'flirtatious' next to Conner's name as the man chattered and smirked at miss Kenya Durant.

"So you say a woman called Claire is missing?" Kenya asked, paying little heed to Conner.

"Yes," Alanna replied with a small frown. "It's very unlike her to miss a meeting." Sam felt his stomach clench with a quiet uncertainty that the next time anyone saw Claire, she'd be laying in the very room they were approaching.

"Here we are," Alanna said, pushing the door open. It was the largest Morgue that Sam had ever seen with a row of nine long, metal tables standing in the middle and countless cabinets most likely holding evidence and bodies to the edges. Seven of the tables held bodies, their heads and feet poking out beneath the white plastic that covered them.

"Are... are these all from the same case?" Maijorie asked, looking shocked. Even Sam was biting hard on his lip, holding back a string of swear words. Why the hell hadn't they called in help earlier?

"Yes," Alanna said coolly. "Three robberies (one a church and the other two banks) and eight murders. Two of the victims were also raped-" she pointed towards the nearest two and then walked over to the third. "And this one was robbed."

"And you think they're all down to the same killer?" This time, Maijorie's voice was tinged with anger. Alanna merely nodded.

"What about the eighth?" Peter asked, moving towards the first body. Sam suddenly realised that there were two other men in the room, both wearing gloves and gowns, and as Peter approached the body, one began to peel the plastic sheet back.

"She's still at the crime scene," Alanna said. "But once we get her down here, John and Andrew will examine her." Peter nodded and without having to be told, the group all pulled on the plastic gloves they were offered and began to examine the bodies, murmuring details to each other.

((I lied. Nothing to see here folks XD))

Peter, Morgue- 520p.m.

Peter nodded as Alanna spoke taking mental notes. Drew also seemed to be taking notes, lots of notes. In code. Peter pulled on the blue plastic gloves and began to examine the bodies. This part was hard for him, but he wouldn't let it show.

Everyone was silent for a very long time and moved along each of the bodies, but Peter was still on the first one. And he hadn't even touched it yet. Slowly Peter moved towards the body, keeping his arms folded across his chest the whole time. He leaned down and looked at the man's profile.

He was looking for something, anything really. A trademark, signature, calling card, something. The Black Fox had to have something that he did to every victim to tag them as his victims, the ones that he got, that he killed. Criminals were like that in the way they thought.

Peter couldn't find anything just by looking at the face and he wasn't sure he was ready to touch the victim quite yet.

Peter sighed in frustration, they were getting no where. He pulled the gloves off and stepped into the hall, he needed a break from the bodies.

*I didn't want to just give the BF a trademark so I didn't but I was hoping maybe in his/her next post the BF could give me a trademark to "find" in all of the victims*

ok bye everyone I'm leaving the storybook cuz I have no idea where my character is and no ones talking to her so, chow

Name: Charlotte "Charly" De Luca
Age: 23
Country (where they came from): Born in England, raised in Italy
Organization (who do they work for): SIS
Appearance: Charly is half Italian and have British, and so is only about 5'2" and has dark brown curly hair and ice-blue eyes. Average body type.
Personality: Charly has spent the past four years building her reputation in the investigation specialty and has done very well for herself. She goes after what she wants/believes/thinks with all her might and has great instincts. She's not very open about her past, but when there is not an investigation going on she is very interested in that of her co-workers but shys away when things become too personal for her.
History: Charly has a very..interesting past to say the least. She is the daughter of Samuel Andrews, and although he is very aware of of her existence he has not seen her for 19 years and doesn't recognize her. At the age of 4, she and her parents were attacked in their home in England as a direct result of her fathers involvement in the SIS. The attack left her mother, Claudia, dead and Charlotte in the hospital for a month and Sam threw himself into work and never saw his daughter again. The murderer was never tried, though they had a pretty decent idea who it was but lacked the evidence to convict him. Charlotte moved to Italy with her aunt and took on her last name (though, Sam does not know), growing up with her. Sam sent money to them and gifts through the mail, but never visited or spoke directly to Charlotte. Charlotte has been known as "Charly De Luca" her entire career, and if asked who "Charlotte Andrews" was, no one would know the answer and she'd like to keep it that way. She saw a bit of the investigation on the fox on TV and had heard of it at headquarters, but also noticed a man looking quite like her father on the tele and had herself transferred to the case.

Charly De Luca - Morgue - 5:22pm


"What makes you think all of these are from one killer?" The heads in the room turned in the direction of the voice to find a young woman with her arms crossed leaning against the doorframe, one leg crossed over the other in subtle comfort.

Peter turned his body around fully, "Who are you?" Said in a definite 'who do you think you are' kind of way, rather than a question of identity.

Charly smirked just a bit and leaned up from her position, making her way into the room. She pulled her badge off it's place on her belt and flipped it open, "Charly De Luca, SIS." She held her hand out to Peter and shook lightly, although he didn't offer a name back just yet.

She glanced around the room for familiar faces, purposely not spending more than half a second on Sam before passing over to Alanna. A smile and a half nod hello to Alanna, "Hello Alanna, nice to see you again." Alanna nodded back. The two had worked together on several cases prior and were familiar, unlike the rest of the room, and respected each others opinion.

"What makes you think they aren't?" A voice from behind, a girl she hadn't quite acknowledged yet.

Charly turned around to her and smiled, pulling a pair of gloves on herself, "What's your name?"

The girl looked a bit unsure, maybe threatened a bit but ultimately gave in to Charly's squinted ice blue eyes, "Kenya." Blunt, and no other information.

Gloved hands pulled long dark brown curls back into a loose ponytail as Charly smiled her direction, "Well, Kenya, that exactly the right question."

Charly moved around the room to the different victims, pointing to the neck of the first, "See these bruises here? Strangulation was used here. But, as you see, it wasn't on all the victims." She moved to the second, pulling an eyelid open, "Burst blood vessels in the eyes suggests suffocation, the only of the seven here."

She moved to the edge of the victims, using only her finger to dish out the symptoms each one had, changing her point with each statement, "Stabbing, shooting, rape and stabbing, rape & strangulation, and blunt force head trauma. My friends, that is not a single MO."

Charly shrugged a bit disappointedly as if she had just running a bunch of little kids Christmas, but nodded in a way that said 'see what I mean?'.