Open Coruscant To you, from me

[The Flower Killer]

OOC: Open to Sector Rangers or any indy detectives​

Was he worried about being caught? Was he trying to be more careful? Did he run out of victims? Where did he go? Why did he return? These would be the questions asked upon witnessing the crime scene. Authorities arrived at 21:30 upon receiving a call for a murder, but not at the lower levels. Like his previous work, the piece was created and framed in a lavish upper-level neighborhood. The officers called in hoped it wasn't the return..

Erina Casmare was a 15 year old girl who attended the Coruscant Institute of Technology, or CIT for short. Her father, Antolin Casmare, was a real estate agent; the mother, Aila Casmare, was a pharmacist. They lived in a two-story home which was well-furnished, and quite the warm environment. There was no security, after all, no upper-level resident expects something to happen in these times. It was the definition of a family home, fit for a hard-working family, at least that is what friends of the family say. Both parents returned from work around 21:00; that is when the call was made.

A trail of blood flowed a few feet from the front door, towards the top of the staircase. On the stairwell laid Erina's body, right on the 3rd step from the second floor; her left arm appeared to be reaching for the top of the staircase. The legs of the young girl were completely twisted and distorted, and her right foot was facing the complete opposite direction of her leg. Like all great artists, the piece required a signature: a single purple flower rested in the mouth of the young girl. Three small purple flowers were sticking out of her back, and 17 other small bleeding holes ran down the spine. On each of the 17 steps behind her laid a single, bloody, purple flower. A paper note at the very bottom of the stairwell which read "Do you like my artwork?" in a scribbled handwriting. There would be no signs of forced entry.

Spoiler: ooc note

This is just the framework for you to start your investigations. Feel free to expand: find more clues, interrogate people etc. I can rp any witnesses you may come across

 

[Nick Shaw]

The waves crashed against the sandy beach as Nick settled back into his beach chair. The warm breeze rolled past him as he lifted the cool drink to his mouth. This was paradise. How had he waited so long to take this trip? Maybe he wouldn't even go back. He smiled as a beautiful woman walked up and sat beside him. She smiled back…

Nick’s eyes snapped open as his community went off for the second time. He rolled over in bed, mumbling several curses as he tried to ignore the device. When it rang again, he slammed his hand on the nightstand, moving it around in a searching motion, knocking off an empty bottle before finally finding the stupid thing.

“What!?” he yelled. It took a second to process what he heard. “Oh shit,” he said, the report washing over him like ice water. “I’ll be right there. Send me what you have so far.” He said, feet already hitting the floor.

It took him 30 minutes. He had been sent pictures of the scene. It certainly was close to the killer they had chased years ago, but that trail had grown cold so long ago. Nick assumed they would never find anything, never heard of the killer again, but here they were. He sent the file and texted it to Trys ( @Sreeya ); she would want to know about this.

He walked into the home, pulling on gloves as he nodded to the officers. He scanned the room as they explained what they had so far. This was similar to the killings from before, but these were also different, evolved. Maybe their killer had moved on somewhere else and kept killing. Where had they gone? Why were they back.?

With a capped pen, he prodded the note at the bottom of the stairs. “Do you like my artwork?” It taunted.

 

[Bast Emblai]

The call had come as she had been having dinner. Perhaps sensing that she was in the middle of eating, the desk attendent at the Core Security Office: Sector Ranger Division spared any grisly details, simply relaying the important facts: murder of a female, age 14-20, pictures would be sent over while she got a taxi and went to the scene, it was urgent. Stuffing one more bite of broiled yip-tip into her mouth, Bast shot up, grabbed her bag, and called for a taxi.

The ride itself was painfully long. The adrenaline of a call— of the urgent need for help, answers, justice, and comfort was still beating through her veins. Why had they not called her earlier? She had been sitting around, filing paperwork just to keep her mind busy. Now they had lost precious minutes in the investigation. The Rangers were simply spread so thin. Despite being a detective by trade, the Corellian woman spent roughly three-quarters of her time on duty patrolling, organizing and executing missions, or brushing up on training. Investigations were passed over her or not deemed as pressing, the cases becoming cold as soon as the bodies cooled. It was wrong, yes, but she did not have the energy or the means to fix it. Enough dead haunted her dreams, so those ignored by the justice system would have to wait in line for a bit. Nevertheless, something was different about this case. Something had to be, or she wouldn’t have been called in.

Bast pressed her lips together as she looked through the crime scene information. Casmere, Erina was 15. Still a kid. Something like a iron vise pinched the lieutenant’s chest. What kind of person would kill a kid in cold blood? Most of the murders she had witnessed were either crimes of passion or premeditated with some instigating disagreement, lie, or disagreeable fact. The victims were politicians or CEOs whose eulogies spoke more highly of them than any word on the street. That was not to say they had deserved death, but it was almost certain this girl did not. Bast sighed. Death couldn‘t care les of who was deserving.
——

Unsurprisingly, the scene had been cordoned off. Flashing her badge to one of the deputies on guard, Bast looked for other investigators, attempting to figure out who was in charge.

Erina lay, her legs bent at an unnatural angle, seventeen stairs from the bottom floor. The older woman’s mouth twitched, but her face remained otherwise impassive, her eyes soaking in every detail. Seventeen flowers, one on each stair. They were all the same sick shade of purple, indicating the perpetrator was not colorblind. One flower in the mouth. Another line of flowers placed in incisions along her back. It was clearly the work of a dangerous class of criminal: the well prepared. They had been in no hurry to flee the crime scene, and clearly took pleasure in causing pain and evoking disgust.

Bast blinked rapidly, refocusing. There was so much work to be done. First, she would talk to the man reading the slip of paper, then don her gloves and take a closer look at the body. If the leg was extremely swollen, it was likely the injury had occured pre-mortem. Another point of interest was the “artwork”, if such sadistic treatment of another could even be considered beautiful or meaningful. No. It wasn’t art, whatever the perpetrator might believe. Then, naturally, the cause of death should be determined, the bereaved parents interviewed, school reports and holonet data accessed. Having to start somewhere, Bast settled on extending a hand to the tired-looking man in the room.

@Raydo
@Altaria

 

[The Flower Killer]

There was many pieces to this puzzle once more, and the police department worked hard. The parents were already taken to the nearest station to be interrogated, although they were extremely unhappy to do so. It was understandable, it must hurt to lose something you love.

Upon further inspection of the girl's body, the legs were fairly swollen. The side of her legs that were touching the steps were scraped. Her eyes were a bit red and teary, and she was still wearing her school uniform. A nearby medical examiner spoke up when Lieutenant Bast approached the body "We believe she died from cardiac arrest. Probably due to excruciating pain and trauma. The flowers aren't poisonous, but there's enough blood coming from her back to have assisted in her death as well."

The other officers could not find anything of suspicion within the home. There were no signs of footprints, forced entry, or DNA samples. The killer was good at picking and choosing what tracks to leave behind, but the officers were stumped at how there wasn't anything else to use. The only thing that was worth collecting, outside of what the killer left behind, was Erina's dataphone. It was locked behind a password, so accessing it wasn't that simple.

A few neighbors would make their way outside their homes to see what all the commotion was about. Some would come near the house to try and ask the officers on standby questions. A media team would most likely arrive sooner or later to film for a live Holonet broadcast.

@Raydo @Kestrel

 

[Bast Emblai]

Bast pulled on a pair of clean gloves and knelt down near the body, nodding in response to the medical examiner’s information. Most people died of cardiac arrest- after all, once the heart stopped, the condition became incompatible with life. Nevertheless, cardiac arrest was rarely the true and complete cause of death. Poison could cause asphyxiation, making it in technicality, the cause of death, but no murderer walked around putting things in drinks to make someone asphyxiate. There had to be something deeper, perhaps the pain of having her back slit open, that killed Erina.

Although the poor girl could no longer feel anything, the Lieutenant did her best to be extremely gentle. Beginning at the head, Bast began her typical investigation. Forensic kits had already been processed, yielding no new information, so, mercifully, there was no need to painstakingly comb hair and scrape fingernails. When she got to the girl’s back, Bast removed the top flower and placed it in an evidence bag. Cutting away part of the shirt on the deceased, the detective looked carefully for any indication of the sort of weapon used.

It always seemed to Bast that quiet was mandated in the presence of the dead. A silly notion, really, but nevertheless she spoke with a lowered voice to one of the police on scene. “Check local stock and see where this flower is from, please. Ask the store owner about bulk orders. It might end in nothing, but I would like a lead.”

With that, she drew out a thin fabric shroud and draped it over the body. Hazel eyes flitted around once more, settling on a datapad which Bast picked up.

The first thing she saw when she stepped outside was a small mob of holonews reporters, cameras blinking and journalists ready to barge in. They flocked towards the new object of interest, crowding her even as she removed her gloves. “Ma’am do you have a moment? We have some questions.”
”Ma’am!”
“Lt. Emblai, why have the Sector Rangers been called in?”
”Is this the next major threat to the planet?”
“Can I have your gloves as a souvenir?”

At the last question, Bast sighed. Straightening, she looked towards the expectant group. “You will find that if one of your own family is murdered, you will desire peace and closure. Personally, I do not find peace or closure in the bright lights and looming microphones you intend to capture the moment with, so I ask that you all leave the premises.“
Turning her back, she headed on a short walk to the station where she would meet the girl’s parents.

@Altaria
@Raydo

 

[The Flower Killer]

The flower shop was already closed for the night, but were able to track down the owner of the shop. After a quick explanation to the owner, hetried to recall any orders. It wasn't a necessarily popular flower, and he didn't remember any large orders. The largest order he received for the flowers was a month ago, but only for five. They were ordered alongside a small glass vase. A middle-aged Twi'lek woman living in the lower floors of Coruscant purchased them.

The reporters exploded with more questions upon hearing the word "murder". They weren't aware that a murder had just occurred, and panic began to set in. They attempted to start following her but a group of officers rushed in to stop them, allowing the Lieutenant to make her way to the station.

At the station the two parents sat in an interrogation room. The father seemed extremely tired, his eyelids were baggy and had a purplish tint. A cup of StarDollar coffee was given to him, but he barely touched it. The mother seemed to be a whole wreck; her hair was frizzy and her mascara was running down her face as she wept. An officer would greet Lieutenant Bast upon her arrival "We've only asked a few basic questions so far such as where they work and what time they returned home. Our Chief of operations isn't too happy that you mentioned murder on a live feed, especially on such a fresh case." He would lead Bast to the interrogation room where the parents were waiting.

@Kestrel @Raydo