Let's follow the cops back home [closed thread]
WHO:Schuldig, Ω okita sougo (character death), Crawford
WHAT: Discovering the Shinsengumi Weapon Shop
WHERE: Market then jungle then back to the market and back to Schwarz house
WHEN:Day 254-early afternoon
Schuldig hadn’t been intending to murder anyone today. He’d had so much satisfaction from that stupid little teen-detective’s painful death; he didn’t feel like causing trouble. No, he’d really just gone out to have coffee, because he wasn’t a horrible person all the time. His free time was his own. And there was the fact that coffee at home for some reason and never tasted as good as when you went out. That, and the quiet was getting to him. Quiet was good, but he was a telepath, and quiet really wasn’t what he was used to. He was used to having the sounds and thoughts rushing through his mind constantly. Here he had to actively listen for it.
He’d had his coffee at a café, and had been on his way to the market to pick up some groceries when he’d caught the strangest thought. The strange, random thoughts that had been sociopathic like his own, but also.. Something about.. purple pine-cone nipple covers?
....
That had caught his attention. In a what-the-fuck kind of way. He would have to plant that image into Crawford’s brain while he slept. And try not to laugh the next morning.
The man was a cop. Nice. Schuldig didn’t particularly like cops. He didn’t have any personal grudge against them, but they often had guns and other weapons, and he didn't really have any respect for law and order as dictated by anyone except himself. It was in the man’s nature to follow someone suspicious, so with a few careful thoughts, he set Okita Sougo to follow him through the markets until they came to an isolated place, near the edge of town where jungle met abandoned houses. There were no people here. No minds. No one to know what happened.
The man was a good cop. He was discreet and if Schuldig hadn't of known better, only his telepathy would have tipped him off to his surveillance. If he hadn't engeneered the whole thing anyway.
And then, it was a simple matter of telling him to look in different direction, using that same image of pine-cone covers, while Schuldig pulled all of the information out of his mind, and replaced it with a bullet.
The bullet passed through the head at such close range, even the skull wasn’t enough to keep it from sinking into the soft earth under their feet. He nudged the body aside, pulling out a knife and digging up the bullet from the soft peat-earth and putting it into his pocket and with his foot, before prying a rock from the ground and using it to crush the boy’s face, until it was a ruined mess. It wasn’t particularly glamorous work, but without modern equipment, it would be awfully difficult to tell just how the kid had died. And would take a forensic expert time to put the jaw back together to get dental records. Not that they had those things here. But there was no visible bullet wound this way. No way to signal it had been anything but a random violent death.
He dragged the body into the jungle-edge wiped his boots in the earth and leaves, getting off the worse of the gore, and left the corpse for the animals or whatever would come along. Animals from the sounds of things.
He made his way back, taking a very long time and dragging his feet a bit to make sure no trace of blood was being tracked back to the market, content and grinning like a cat while he finished his shopping for dinner.
Crawford was going to like what he’d found in the police kid’s mind. Weapons.
WHAT: Discovering the Shinsengumi Weapon Shop
WHERE: Market then jungle then back to the market and back to Schwarz house
WHEN:Day 254-early afternoon
Schuldig hadn’t been intending to murder anyone today. He’d had so much satisfaction from that stupid little teen-detective’s painful death; he didn’t feel like causing trouble. No, he’d really just gone out to have coffee, because he wasn’t a horrible person all the time. His free time was his own. And there was the fact that coffee at home for some reason and never tasted as good as when you went out. That, and the quiet was getting to him. Quiet was good, but he was a telepath, and quiet really wasn’t what he was used to. He was used to having the sounds and thoughts rushing through his mind constantly. Here he had to actively listen for it.
He’d had his coffee at a café, and had been on his way to the market to pick up some groceries when he’d caught the strangest thought. The strange, random thoughts that had been sociopathic like his own, but also.. Something about.. purple pine-cone nipple covers?
....
That had caught his attention. In a what-the-fuck kind of way. He would have to plant that image into Crawford’s brain while he slept. And try not to laugh the next morning.
The man was a cop. Nice. Schuldig didn’t particularly like cops. He didn’t have any personal grudge against them, but they often had guns and other weapons, and he didn't really have any respect for law and order as dictated by anyone except himself. It was in the man’s nature to follow someone suspicious, so with a few careful thoughts, he set Okita Sougo to follow him through the markets until they came to an isolated place, near the edge of town where jungle met abandoned houses. There were no people here. No minds. No one to know what happened.
The man was a good cop. He was discreet and if Schuldig hadn't of known better, only his telepathy would have tipped him off to his surveillance. If he hadn't engeneered the whole thing anyway.
And then, it was a simple matter of telling him to look in different direction, using that same image of pine-cone covers, while Schuldig pulled all of the information out of his mind, and replaced it with a bullet.
The bullet passed through the head at such close range, even the skull wasn’t enough to keep it from sinking into the soft earth under their feet. He nudged the body aside, pulling out a knife and digging up the bullet from the soft peat-earth and putting it into his pocket and with his foot, before prying a rock from the ground and using it to crush the boy’s face, until it was a ruined mess. It wasn’t particularly glamorous work, but without modern equipment, it would be awfully difficult to tell just how the kid had died. And would take a forensic expert time to put the jaw back together to get dental records. Not that they had those things here. But there was no visible bullet wound this way. No way to signal it had been anything but a random violent death.
He dragged the body into the jungle-edge wiped his boots in the earth and leaves, getting off the worse of the gore, and left the corpse for the animals or whatever would come along. Animals from the sounds of things.
He made his way back, taking a very long time and dragging his feet a bit to make sure no trace of blood was being tracked back to the market, content and grinning like a cat while he finished his shopping for dinner.
Crawford was going to like what he’d found in the police kid’s mind. Weapons.