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Oh, my god.

[ stiles' voice has the kind of self-contained excitement in it that someone might get upon being given a quad bike for their fourteenth birthday. or, you know, a pony. there's that same kind of delighted anticipation of fun times ahead. ]

You guys will not believe what I found.

[ his voice is pitchy and he's in close up in the dim light, eyes wide and too-dark in his pale face, before he turns to film... well. ]

An actual freaking body!

[ which is all the warning given for the squeamish before it's on camera. the body is very clearly human, even if all its distinguishing features have been removed. its pieces join unnaturally together, arm sewn to shoulder to torso to leg, and the whole thing hangs suspended from several strings, like a puppet. ]

[ stiles fumbles the camera back to himself. he swallows. it's cool, but also, you know, he's kind of creeped himself out already just wondering if the killer might still be around. but that's not exactly a thought he's about to put voice to. ]

I'm about fifteen minutes heading left from the Shuttle Bay, I think, if someone wants to come cut it down.

(( as per dex and bri's excellent adventure. eta action for investigators. ))

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[ The corridor is just on the edge of safe turf. It's eerily quiet at first, but for Stiles' conversations, which echo, as does the drip, drip, drip of condensation falling from the suspended body into a pool of water below it.

The puppet, dangling on its strings, is strung up with its arms wide, clinging mostly to the shadow of the corridor by pieces of scrap wire that could have been ripped from almost any console on the ship. The body is stitched together with medical grade nylon thread, each of the stitches neat. Again, the thread is available in every medkit on board, and abundant in the medbay.

The pieces themselves radiate cool. They're dried out to an inhuman grey, no drop of blood remaining, no teeth, no eyes, no face with which to make an identification. The pads of fingers and toes have been worn flat. There's almost no smell--in a day or two that might change.

The injuries the pirate had were carefully sewn shut, or trimmed around where possible. He has no neck, and were someone to piece the flesh together of the left leg, they'd realize there was an inch more on one than the other. The burn on the right thigh is still there, albeit dried out, and old bruises have faded out when the blood was removed. The cuts that have been made have been done with surgical precision; neat, perfect slices through flesh and bone both, although it's more difficult to tell in the low light, with the body sewn back together the way it is.

There's nothing painted on the walls, no sign, no lesson inscribed here in blood from Smiley. It's just a dead body. Have a cold one on the Moser brothers, guys. ]

[ Thanks, bro. The last third of the weird semi-incestuous Moser-Morgan trio comes running in at top speed, long legs and way too many hours on the treadmill carrying her to the edge of the crime scene, where she stops with perfect precision. Imagine the screech of cartoon brakes, if you will. But she knows not to disturb any possible evidence, that's second nature to her.

Debra looks around her, catching her breath and taking the scene in. She doesn't react much to the sight of the corpse, at least not visibly: it's a blast from the past for her, but she's seen messier murders by far. She's mostly concerned with looking for other personnel, trying to set a perimeter and get whatever evidence they possibly can. She knows damn well (or thinks she does) who the person responsible is; now it's just a matter of getting something they can use against him.

She's not SEC, is the thing. She'd dithered for months without signing up, and though she's been called in to consult before she doesn't have official standing here, whatever "official" means on the murdership. All her instincts are telling her to take charge here (even the ones that are wondering exactly how reliable any forensics they might get could be), but she's not in charge.

...Fuck. ]

[And here's someone else who's not in charge, and who shouldn't be in charge - who, in spite of his bluster, isn't a police officer and has never done any of the preliminary work on crime scenes - but who's security, who has investigatory experience, and who is therefore probably the best they're going to get.

He swings in unhesitatingly. In spite of his yelling and snarling on the network, he's cool now, and dispassionate as he examines the suspended body; he looks it up and down, then turns crisply to Deb.]

Do you have a reason for being here?

[It's not a challenge; it's a genuine question. If she has an answer that's half-decent, he's not about to chase her off. But he is curious why she clearly ran here full-tilt.]

[ It takes almost a physical effort to not take offense and snap at him for that, challenge or not, but Deb's gained some self-control over the years and she's hyper-conscious of her own liminal authority here. ] Tyke called me in on the last murder. And seeing as how all this [ indicating the blood-drained, dismembered body, with a layered kind of emotion hard to parse out ], just from looking at, it is a trip down memory lane for me, I thought I should get my skinny ass down here and consult.

[He nods his acceptance of this - doesn't question her again - but does look over her briefly.]

You'll have to give me a bit more information on this nostalgia of yours once we process the scene. Though I suspect I already know who it is you're remembering.

[He turns back to the scene, then, looking it up and down, eyes narrowed as he simply observes. Then, remembering - ]

Can I count on you to take Stilinski's statement?

You suspect so, huh. [ There's maybe just a slight tinge of bitterness in her tone. Because Edgeworth had been the first member of SEC she'd run into upon arrival on the Tranquility, and she'd told him then about the serial killer with a penchant for draining bodies of their blood and setting their dismembered limbs into pretty little arrangements. She'd warned him Moser would kill again, and raged at having no power to see the man she knew to be the Ice Truck Killer taken into custody. ] I've got the casefiles in question pretty much memorized. You can fucking ask away.

I'm pretty sure I'm competent to take a witness statement, but Stiles is a friend of mine. So if you think that represents a conflict of interest...

[ It's true, she's half-adopted Stiles Stilinski at this point, and in the unlikely case he had something to do with this crime besides stumbling over it her caution might be warranted.

But at the same time, it's something of a smokescreen: the faux little brother a distraction in looking at her loyalties from the real brother, who's almost certainly going to be called in as well to help with forensics. Because she doesn't know what the fuck is going on here, what to think. What to suspect, or what to do if her suspicions are borne out.

She's a good cop. She's a brave and faithful servant of justice. But. ]

[He glances over, trying to deduce from her expression how much of a friend she means. People tended to use the word "friend" so casually here, to describe someone they'd known for weeks, no more, so liberal with the word that it seems almost to undermine its power - He can't tell whether it's something like that for her.

He can't take Stilinski's statement, either, for precisely the opposite problem. Stilinski will dig in his heels. It will devolve into bickering.

So he hesitates, and then asks:]

Do you think your friendship will compromise your judgment? Tell me truly; I'll think no less of you if the answer is yes.

[ A pause, as Deb bites her lip and thinks hard, as best she can through the adrenaline she's riding right now.

No. [ Firmly, continuing in a soft voice so as not to be heard. ] If he had anything to do with this, if he's covering for anybody - I'll do the best I can to find that out. [ She's 99.9% sure he isn't, of course; she damn well knows who did this, and the fury and guilt of knowing is nearly turning her inside out, though she's covering well. But she is still a trained investigator, and knows how to cross her "t"s and dot her "i"s to properly interrogate a witness. ]

He'll talk to me, more than he would to most people. I'll record it, if he'll give permission.

[He nods once, his brows furrowed.]

All right. Then I'll ask you to do it. I assure you, I detest it; were we at home, I would of course ask you to recuse yourself. But I need someone who actually knows how to run a questioning, and I can't do it.

I'll trust you to be impartial.

Nobody's completely impartial. [ Grimly. She doesn't especially like that she can't recuse herself, either. For all kinds of reasons. ] I'll do the best I can.

[He lowers his head in acknowledgment.]

I'll review your statements, ma'am, to see if your handling of the interrogation was valid.

[In his head, this is a reassurance.]

...Thanks.

[ stiles is pretty far away from the body — about as far away as he can get while still keeping it in sight, in fact. he'd noticed deb's arrival, but edgeworth's presence meant he chose to stay right where he was and keep talking into his comms device, reassuring his friends that people were here now, and he was gonna be fine. ]

[ he doesn't feel fine. ]

[ when deb approaches him to take his statement, he sighs and puts the device away, looking up from his position on the floor with his long legs folded. he's paler than usual — despite his excitement and flippancy, the implications of the body haven't actually gone past him. ]

Problem, officer?

[ it's not entirely a joke, since he gets that she's on duty in this situation. it's the kind of thing he'd say to his dad, a little microagression coupled with capitulation to the fact that he was gonna have to talk to deb as the police, not as his big sister surrogate. ]

Hands up and spread-em, scumbag. Except [ breaking the noir growl with a weary wave ] don't, for the love of fuck, 'cause you've already got Edgeworth half-convinced you're the perp or at least a garden variety psycho and I don't wanna get him too excited. He only let me take your statement because he thought you'd be on the defensive with him.

[ True? Yes, completely. Also a way of bringing Edgeworth in as the bad cop to her good? Also yes. But it's all in a good cause, she tells herself. ]

So I'm guessing you know how this works. Shit, I don't have any paper.... [ fiddles and then switches on the Record function on her communicator ] Do you consent to being taped? Oh, and state your name for the record.

[ stiles isn't exactly surprised. for one thing, he'd already kinda had a chat with edgeworth, watched with avid delight as first deb and then tyke bitch-slapped him into line. for another, he and edgeworth don't exactly get along. stiles wouldn't just be on the defensive, he'd be in full-throttle asshole mode. at least with deb he's cooperative. ]

Yeah, I, Stiles Stilinski, number fourteen-nine, consent to being recorded by Officer Morgan for the duration of my statement.

[ he grins up at her. ]

Did I get everything?

[ freaking watertight. yeah, he knows how this works — he's been on both sides, more than once. ]

[ Officer Morgan makes Deb's chest hurt a little. She doesn't correct him. ] You got it. Okay, witness statement of Stiles Stilinski concerning the discovery of an unidentified cadaver a couple days before Jump Eighteen. Interview being conducted by Debra Morgan, thirteen thirty-seven at the scene.

Stiles, can you give me an account in your own words of what happened? [ points her communicator back towards him ]

Yeah, uh. I had been at the Shuttle Bay — where I help out. Shift ended, and I headed back to my room. I tried a different route because I thought it might come out closer to the fourteenth floor, since I always feel like I'm going down and then catching the elevators back up again?

[ realizing that he's digressed, he pulls an apologetic face and gets back on topic. ]

Anyway. So I'm walking down the corridor, and there are less and less lights, and I'm just starting to consider maybe heading back and taking the regular way when bam, I turn the corner and there's a body strung up in front of me.

I skidded to a stop and then kinda backed off fast, and then took out my comms device and filmed it, which was on the netwrok, which you saw. Actually, pretty much everything else from then on's been recorded.

Right. [ brief but warm smile at him, a nonverbal you did the right thing. Deb doesn't blame him for making the network recording: sure, it would've been better restricted to SEC personnel, but he was a kid alone on a weird-ass murder scene, and she'd been eager to know about her dad's murder cases at his age. Only natural he'd lose his head a little. And if the murderer had been lurking around, an ongoing broadcast was probably his best possible protection against getting attacked himself. ]

Which direction were you coming from?

Uh.

[ stiles doesn't exactly have compass orientation here, so he just points. ]

Thataway.

[ which isn't great for voice recording. he thinks, adds. ]

Body was at my two o'clock when I came out of the corridor.

Okay. And about how close did you get to it? [ She's getting the easy questions out of the way, because they do need to be asked for the record. She makes a sorry for asking this for the hundredth time face at him ] Has anything been touched or disturbed on the scene?

Nah. I mean, I say I nearly walked into it, but I guess it's just that I didn't notice it until I had to walk up past it, and then I got back. But no touching. Or disturbing. Apart from the disturbing levels of corpse.

[ ha. ha. ]

[ It's extremely mild by her standards of dark humor - you have to get pretty graphic to top Masuka when it comes to inappropriate jokes about corpses - so she just smiles a little. ] Right. So then you started filming for the network. And kept recording "pretty much everything" since then.

[ Deb kind of hates that she's about to do this. But better she blindsides him with the question right now than that Edgeworth notices the discrepancy later and turns it into a j'accuse! thing. Better, too, that she demonstrates her impartiality when questioning someone she's described as her friend. Because she's going to need that appearance of integrity. And maybe that's part of it, too, her feelings about brother-figures who think they can interfere with fucking murder investigations without anyone noticing. She can't call Dexter out, not yet, not publicly. But it lends a certain sudden coolness in her tone. ] But I noticed a couple minutes there, before Security personnel got here, where you went silent.

[ It's not like Deb was listening as she ran to make sure you were okay and freaking out when you went off the air, or anything. Stiles.]

[ stiles is nodding along, relaxing as he's pretty sure this all winds up, when suddenly she throws him a curveball and he's tense all over again. shit. shit. ]

I did?

[ he stalls, wrinkles his brow like he has to think about it when really what he's thinking about is how he's gonna cover this. because yeah, he'd dropped out for a little bit while he talked to scott and then sent him off again, but that's not even gonna be relevant to the investigation, not really. scott didn't even go anywhere near the body. ]

I mean, sure, I. Might have switched to a private transmission at some point.

[ also true, to talk to wichita, but he's hedging around admitting he'd outright turned the device off, shooting deb a big brown puppy-eyed look. ]

I swear, I didn't mess with the body or anything.

Oh, [ huff of laughter, reassuring smile that's barely covering up the underlying steel ] I'm not saying you did. I know you're smarter than that. And our Forensics guy will be able to tell if anyone's touched the body. [ watching him ] Or even walked through here recently.

So, you switched to private. Who with? We probably won't need to try to break into the message or anything, but Communications can tell us whether it was sent. And for how long.

Uhh. I talked to Wichita for a bit. Scott. Mostly just checking in, but I wasn't sure I should keep talking about the body publicly.

[ he's feeling the heat — he doesn't think people are actually gonna pick up that scott was here, buncha people must walk through this corridor all the time? right? but he's not actually that great at fast-talking. none of this is strictly untrue, but stiles can't hide his nerves. ]

video.

[action for investigators]

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la la just coming back to this 12 days late la la (sorry omg)

Not at all <3

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