Thread: A Vision In Blood (Miss Eleanora and Mr. Quixotic)

Grinning at Elizabeth, Lyle leaned further across the counter. Her teasing banter had captured his attention as much as her attractive features, and the outfit she vintage outfit. The latter, possibly because it was something he wasn't accustomed to encountering, and he had to stop himself from too obviously attempting to appraise what lay beneath. These days, he'd become so used to teens and even older woman, who really shouldn't, being barely dressed in micro-skirts and midriff tops that left nothing to the imagination, whether one wanted to imagine it or not. Elizabeth Rescorae's dress did just the opposite, it piqued a man's curiosity to discover for himself. Hopefully he betrayed no evidence of those non-professional thoughts, which flowed through his brain in an instant, before he responded, Very observant, but I guess that's part of your profession, and his hand slid down to rest on the gun-butt under his jacket, surprised she'd noticed. Though, Private Security? He shook his head, I'm almost insulted. A little flirtation never hurt to calm the waters, especially as the majority of citizens froze when confronted by the FBI or a member of a Federal Agency, instinctively attempting to recall what crimes they'd committed, and if they faced arrest for the time they jaywalked back in 1973. It was human nature, and Lyle believed he caught a momentary flash of that concern in the woman's expression. If so, she quickly recovered and subsequently appeared to have no fear of Law Enforcement or set against them, the latter which he also often encountered in his profession. Whilst she glanced down at her appointment calendar, he watched with an amused expression, uncertain if she was genuinely checking to see if was expecting clients or simply returning his sarcasm in kind. He raised a brow when she said she was free, I'm glad I'm not disturbing you then, and I'd be surprised if you were squeamish. Some of the so-called 'artwork' I've seen would put any crime-scene to shame. After she'd stepped past, close enough for him to inhale her scent, Lyle followed her with his gaze. Never understood that, the desire to depict the bloody and brutal, don't we have enough in reality? They'd change their minds if they were unlucky enough to discover what dealing with a dead body is really like. The woman's ass looked quite delectable as far as Carter could gauge, however, he only gained a brief glance. By the time she'd placed the closed sign on the door and made her way back to him, he'd turned to face the counter, uncorking the cardboard canisters and speaking over his shoulder. These are only prints. Carter placed the first one on the far left. I'm not certain what I'm after. Just your unbiased professional impression. Not on the artist's talent itself or a brush-stroke analysis, although anything you could provide in that regard could be useful, but more so on what do they depict, what do they mean. Is there a theme, an underlying motivation or inspiration a driver. Have you ever encountered anything like them? Looking up to catch her eye, he motioned to the five images spread out on the counter, placed in chronological order, left to right, of each crime, - Twenty-two year old College student, Richard Lomax simple stylized portrait. - Thirty-six year old lawyer, Donovan Grieves Demonic elements - Twenty-three year old street performer, Eryk Peters Wizard - Eighteen Year old Danish Tourist, Malthe Jensen Bloody King - Yet to be identified Classical Hero, and stepped away to allow her to view the series, all painted in a vibrant but slightly different shade of bright crimson. The specific hue of the subject's own blood. The originals are still in the Lab, but if it helps, I can get you access. Lyle smiled. Well, originals of the originals. If I knew where the actual originals were, I wouldn't require your assistance.