Thread: Mercury Milk

George Andrews had been working in this room for five years. He'd transfered from a smaller city and thought he'd put his decent amount of years, despite his young age, to use against the crime of this haven for criminals. They'd given him what he wanted, which was gruesome and twisted ways of murder. Despite his proximity to death and a rather cold working environment with sometimes shitty attitudes toward his performance - which was actually top notch, if he could say so himself - George was probably one of the few five plus years members of the investigation team that liked his job. Today especially. Her open chest was considerably fresh. Because of her location her body had been spared a whole army of bugs. The birds had damaged her but only skin deep, nothing that should interfere with his own work. George, nicknamed G since before he could remember anything else in this precinct, had his mouth open behind his paper mask as he poked the gray lung once more. He liked the intact one. He'd never been accused of being a bubbly personality, but he'd been known to be chipper as far as coroners went, and today he was almost giddy. Ange took her work seriously. Her demeanor usually made sure this was clear at first glance. That's not to say he hadn't earned strides in their relationship as coworkers. Sometimes that meant tossing a few jokes over the corpses. Today it meant cutting to the chase. He nodded to greet her before he poked the whole lung. He pulled his mask down to give her the answer. See this? It looks inflated because it somethings in there. he said before turning his attention to the other, dissected bag of tissue. She should already be thinking Death by drowning. It didn't worry him, that wasn't the going to be his main number. And this goop here. Yeah. He held the scalpel up, blunt end dripping down onto the opened Ivory girl. It's man juice, detective Taylor. The cutter was put down on a metal tray among so many other utensils like it. Despite the damage contracted from a thick blunt object in her esophagus, there's not much to indicate a struggle. But that seem ludicrous, because who wouldn't fight and thrash when they're being drowned? It's physiological. Hey, check this out, man. Ian said as he swirled around on his chair, the laptop at his crowded desk a bright blue which directly contradicted the muted tones of paper heaps and gutted towers strewn around his space. Jake did turn from a station that mirrored the chaos and seemed agitated, busy as he was with the two hard drives they'd been given to look through on the Ivory case. What? And this better not be about how many times she wrote lol. Jake said, late Nina's screen shining bright in his glasses. Ian shook his head and jabbed his thumb at the word document he'd found. She hid it behind three maps, so I had to check it. Three maps is newb for 'secret'. And it turns out this Ivory chick wrote stories. A quick search landed me the site she frequents where she put these up. Turns out she actually fantasized about drowning in jizz. This caused Jake to frown and lean back in his chair, the implications sinking in and raising the slight hairs on his forearm. Imma send this to Ange's cellphone. Give me the name of the site too, I'll bet you they'll trace back the owner to someone local. So, Taylor, whats your take? George asked, though most of his attention was turned back to Nina.