Two people running up to her, both with the same question. It had gotten ugly out there last night, no doubt about it. Why they'd walked through it unscathed -- in fact, untroubled by anything other than mutual, though deserved, distrust.
Though she was glad Ema wasn't here -- her own eardrums were threatening to turn her reply into a lie, and Ema's would certainly do the same.
"No, Detective," she said, her voice quiet. "I'm fine. As is Ema, at least in body." She glanced at the wall for a second, and made for a conversational getaway so blatant she could almost hear the tires squeal.
"You seem to be doing well, yourself. Did you see any evidence to back up all these wild reports?" She waved a casual hand at the bulletin. A little bit of a dare, a little bit of a prompt, and a chance to talk about himself -- she didn't know him that well, but detectives were detectives.
She'd been one for years, after all. And he had a better eye for the truth than she'd ever given him credit for back home; she was curious as to what he could tell her.
Hearing her voice and how quiet it was gave Gumshoe a good indicator of how loud he was being, but it didn't have a calming effect. He did turn it down a notch once he'd gotten the answer he'd wanted to hear, though. Well, all except that part about Ema. That didn't exactly put his mind at ease.
Then she changed the subject, and the detective's shoulders sank a little. Was it just him, or were all prosecutors like this? Every time he asked one of them about their well-being, they did all they could to avoid the topic. Whatever got them through the day, he guessed. "I..." He briefly turned toward the bulletin, looking curious. "I haven't checked the board yet." His train of thought brought on another surge of anger, but he tried to keep it down as much as possible. His fists started trembling with effort. "But I saw more than enough evidence in the main hallway last night! You should have seen it! There was blood from one end of the hall to the other! Literally, Ms. Skye!"
She blinked. She'd seen the reports, but they hadn't quite painted such a lurid picture. They'd focused more on the fact that, evidently, the monsters hadn't been the only things with an inflated sense of entitlement last night.
"I think I'm glad I didn't, Detective. I'm more than happy to take your word for it." Clearly, they'd clearly made it back to the morgue before things had heated up. Quite possibly Gant, dead in his lonely drawer, had saved her life for the second night in a row merely by keeping her away from it.
"Were there very many injuries?" There'd been only the one report -- terrible, but singular.
"I..." he trailed off for the second time, before growing sheepish. A hand rubbed the back of his head out of habit. "I don't know, to be honest. There were dozens of animal corpses," the frown tugged at the corners of his mouth even more, "but I didn't see anything that came close to being human." And there had been the unfortunate problem of not having a flashlight with him, so he'd had to rely on the glowing walls for the most part. He'd leave that out of his report. Plus there was the fact he wasn't a forensic expert, but he suspected the lab boys would have had as little luck making heads or tails of the evidence as he had. Never mind the task of identifying what had been left over...
His face fell, and he stared at the floor. Stick to the facts, Gumshoe. "It was a real mess in there." He glanced up at her, looking solemn and sincere. "I'm glad you weren't around to see it."
"I did spend several years on the force, Detective," she snapped. Not that she relished such sights -- no one had, not even some of the detectives who'd been a little too eager for some action.
"I had more pressing business. The morgue, if you remember. I can confirm that Damon Gant is, and remains, deceased." The fact that that needed confirmation, when she'd been an eye-witness to his death, was absurd, but she'd done it.
"Where were you? Perhaps that would tell us something about where our captors felt was most critical."
Gumshoe's candid expression didn't change after her response. Hmm... Right, right. It was hard to think of her as someone other than the Chief Prosecutor at this point. But he could see she'd taken it the wrong way. He hadn't meant to imply she couldn't handle the sight of a messy crime scene. It was just... To see what he'd seen last night? He wouldn't wish that on anyone, whether they had field experience or not.
At the mention of Chief Gant, Gumshoe bit the inside of his lower lip, unsure how to answer. "Oh..." What was he supposed to say? Instead of struggling any longer to think of something, he latched on to her next question, not meeting her eyes for a moment so he could get his thoughts in order. He wasn't entirely sure she'd want to hear what he had to say about the news. Then again, maybe it'd be like how Mr. Edgeworth sometimes used him as a sounding board; once Ms. Skye got it all out (providing there was anything left to tell), Gumshoe would offer his own thoughts on the matter.
"I was downstairs the whole time. The mess I was talking about was in that large area in front of the patient blocks. Some of it extended into the hallways nearby." He turned his gaze back on to her, raising an eyebrow. "My guess is that they wanted to keep people from going out last night. Oh!" he suddenly exclaimed, visibly perking up. "And another thing! One of the people with me said that something happened last night to 'release the binds on our powers'! Do you know what she could have meant by that?"
Lana shook her head. "I'm afraid not, Detective. Not firsthand, at least, and not in detail. But if you take a look at the bulletin, a few things become clear." She stepped back over to it, flipping through the notes. There was a reply to her inquiry, though she lingered no longer over it than the others; it was in the handwriting she used for Christmas cards, not reports, and the good Detective had never been on her Christmas list. Perhaps she would send something to everyone in both departments, this year. It wasn't like she would have another chance.
"You know that many of our fellow patients claim magical and superhuman abilities, right?" If he couldn't figure it out from there and a veritable wealth of posts, she...well, she'd explain it to him. But she'd let him make another stab at it, first.
Gumshoe followed her over to the bulletin board and waited patiently as she looked over the notes. He skimmed over a few of them, and... Well, there were a lot of messages from people checking up on others, but that was how it was every morning. Since that obviously didn't tell him anything, he turned to her again. She'd do what Mr. Edgeworth always did and help him out, right?
"Well, I know there are people here who say they have 'healing abilities'. I even saw a guy heal someone on my second night! It kinda freaked me out when it happened, but he saved that kid's life." He'd seen it for himself, so refusing to believe it seemed pretty silly to him, but he guessed he wouldn't have been as accepting of it had it not been for the trial about the Kurain Master last year. To find out that some forms of magic really existed had certainly renewed his fascination with it. All that stuff he'd dreamed about when he was a kid...
His frown deepened and he started fidgeting when he remembered something very supernatural had hit a bit too close to home for his liking. But that was between him and Mr. Edgeworth. Not even a certain defense attorney would be able to get it out of him! Gumshoe would never tell a soul.
But, he was sort of obligated to tell Ms. Skye about the kinds of things they had been doing to people in the "sleep studies". He crossed his arms and glanced away from her. He'd wait to hear what she had to say before deciding anything.
"Did you?" Before he could take what was clearly a rhetorical question between his teeth and pull the conversational reins entirely from her hands, she followed it up with another. "Did you see the discussion on mortality?" She tapped the first note in the sequence with a finger. "It seems quite a lot of our fellow patients found their abilities more akin to those they claim at home."
She still wasn't sure she believed claims of immortality, but she had no way of disproving them, either.
"Though most of them seemed more concerned with destruction than healing." That was undoubtedly more a function of who chose to trumpet their actions, but she couldn't exactly interview everyone.
Though she was glad Ema wasn't here -- her own eardrums were threatening to turn her reply into a lie, and Ema's would certainly do the same.
"No, Detective," she said, her voice quiet. "I'm fine. As is Ema, at least in body." She glanced at the wall for a second, and made for a conversational getaway so blatant she could almost hear the tires squeal.
"You seem to be doing well, yourself. Did you see any evidence to back up all these wild reports?" She waved a casual hand at the bulletin. A little bit of a dare, a little bit of a prompt, and a chance to talk about himself -- she didn't know him that well, but detectives were detectives.
She'd been one for years, after all. And he had a better eye for the truth than she'd ever given him credit for back home; she was curious as to what he could tell her.
Reply
Then she changed the subject, and the detective's shoulders sank a little. Was it just him, or were all prosecutors like this? Every time he asked one of them about their well-being, they did all they could to avoid the topic. Whatever got them through the day, he guessed. "I..." He briefly turned toward the bulletin, looking curious. "I haven't checked the board yet." His train of thought brought on another surge of anger, but he tried to keep it down as much as possible. His fists started trembling with effort. "But I saw more than enough evidence in the main hallway last night! You should have seen it! There was blood from one end of the hall to the other! Literally, Ms. Skye!"
Reply
"I think I'm glad I didn't, Detective. I'm more than happy to take your word for it." Clearly, they'd clearly made it back to the morgue before things had heated up. Quite possibly Gant, dead in his lonely drawer, had saved her life for the second night in a row merely by keeping her away from it.
"Were there very many injuries?" There'd been only the one report -- terrible, but singular.
Reply
His face fell, and he stared at the floor. Stick to the facts, Gumshoe. "It was a real mess in there." He glanced up at her, looking solemn and sincere. "I'm glad you weren't around to see it."
Reply
"I had more pressing business. The morgue, if you remember. I can confirm that Damon Gant is, and remains, deceased." The fact that that needed confirmation, when she'd been an eye-witness to his death, was absurd, but she'd done it.
"Where were you? Perhaps that would tell us something about where our captors felt was most critical."
Reply
At the mention of Chief Gant, Gumshoe bit the inside of his lower lip, unsure how to answer. "Oh..." What was he supposed to say? Instead of struggling any longer to think of something, he latched on to her next question, not meeting her eyes for a moment so he could get his thoughts in order. He wasn't entirely sure she'd want to hear what he had to say about the news. Then again, maybe it'd be like how Mr. Edgeworth sometimes used him as a sounding board; once Ms. Skye got it all out (providing there was anything left to tell), Gumshoe would offer his own thoughts on the matter.
"I was downstairs the whole time. The mess I was talking about was in that large area in front of the patient blocks. Some of it extended into the hallways nearby." He turned his gaze back on to her, raising an eyebrow. "My guess is that they wanted to keep people from going out last night. Oh!" he suddenly exclaimed, visibly perking up. "And another thing! One of the people with me said that something happened last night to 'release the binds on our powers'! Do you know what she could have meant by that?"
Reply
"You know that many of our fellow patients claim magical and superhuman abilities, right?" If he couldn't figure it out from there and a veritable wealth of posts, she...well, she'd explain it to him. But she'd let him make another stab at it, first.
Reply
Gumshoe followed her over to the bulletin board and waited patiently as she looked over the notes. He skimmed over a few of them, and... Well, there were a lot of messages from people checking up on others, but that was how it was every morning. Since that obviously didn't tell him anything, he turned to her again. She'd do what Mr. Edgeworth always did and help him out, right?
"Well, I know there are people here who say they have 'healing abilities'. I even saw a guy heal someone on my second night! It kinda freaked me out when it happened, but he saved that kid's life." He'd seen it for himself, so refusing to believe it seemed pretty silly to him, but he guessed he wouldn't have been as accepting of it had it not been for the trial about the Kurain Master last year. To find out that some forms of magic really existed had certainly renewed his fascination with it. All that stuff he'd dreamed about when he was a kid...
His frown deepened and he started fidgeting when he remembered something very supernatural had hit a bit too close to home for his liking. But that was between him and Mr. Edgeworth. Not even a certain defense attorney would be able to get it out of him! Gumshoe would never tell a soul.
But, he was sort of obligated to tell Ms. Skye about the kinds of things they had been doing to people in the "sleep studies". He crossed his arms and glanced away from her. He'd wait to hear what she had to say before deciding anything.
Reply
She still wasn't sure she believed claims of immortality, but she had no way of disproving them, either.
"Though most of them seemed more concerned with destruction than healing." That was undoubtedly more a function of who chose to trumpet their actions, but she couldn't exactly interview everyone.
Reply
Leave a comment