FMA RP post

[Demonic Neko]

Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes Knox straightened up in his chair, making a face as his back made snapping sounds. He looked down at the autopsy report on his desk for what seemed like the hundredth time. They told him that Salem Bradly had been another victim of the Alchemist killer, which of course was absolute nonsense. He imploded the heads of those he killed, he didn't slit their throats. With a curved blade no less, Knox mused with professional detachment. It must of made an interesting blood-spray pattern.

Leaning back in his chair he lit up another cigarette and took a long drag and glared at the report on his desk once more. There was obviously a cover up going on and he wasn't sure who he could bring this information to without it coming back to bite him. He thought briefly about telling Roy about what he had found, but honestly he didn't know where that boy's head was these days. Lately it seemed the brat didn't have the common sense that God gave a gerbil.

He fought back a yawn and his gaze drifted over to a pocket watch the was laid carelessly amid the clutter on his desk. He cursed when he realized that it was much later than he thought it was. He stood up, wincing as his back make more creaks and snaps, and gave the paper work one last glare before gathering it up and tucking it under his arm. He would decide what to do tomorrow after he had at least a semi-decent amount of sleep.

[Demonic Neko]

Knox's secretary was a harried looking woman, who led Clara through the maze like corridors of the morgue to his personal office.
"I must warn you, Dr. Knox take a bit of getting used to..." she stated as she led her to the door of Knox's office. "I hope you don't mind cigarettes," she said making a face as she opened the door. Smoke billowed out of the room and the secretary waited until it cleared before poking her head in.

"Dr. Knox, your 9:30 appointment is here."

The office was cluttered, stacks of paperwork piled up on every available surface, but if asked Knox could find any file in a mater of seconds. Although his filing "system" seemed chaotic, it worked for him. He was sitting at his desk poring over paperwork, a half spent cigarette hanging from his lips. He glanced up briefly before turning his attention back to the files on his desk, and motioning Clara to enter the room.

----

((Clara/Psiren))

The room was stuffy and made Clara's eyes water, but it gave her respect for the man who worked -- and judging by the smell, lived -- in it. Clean offices were usually inhabited by one of two types of people: punctilious people, who would never let classified information slip, and those who could let others tidy up for them because they never knew anything worth classifying. Either one would have spelled disaster for her plan.

Something told her that flattery and charm wouldn't get her very far with this man. He looked grouchy and mean; his temper was probably shorter than that stub of cigarette he was holding between his lips.

"Hello, Doctor Knox. I'm Doctor Lampert," she said simply. "You look like a busy man, and I don't want to waste too much of your time, so I'll cut to the chase. I need to pick your brain about the Ishbalan Alchemist Killer. I've been commissioned to put together a psychological profile of him for the State."

Her stomach turned at the thought of the next part, but Clara steeled her nerves and continued, "In short, I need to discuss his techniques and any details of his crimes that you've inferred from those methods -- on a case-by-case basis, if you don't mind. I would like to be as thorough as possible."

[Demonic Neko]

Knox looked at her for a moment, his expression unreadable, before plucking the mostly ashed cigarette from his lips and grinding it into an ashtray.
He stood up and motioned her towards a beat-up, metal folding-chair that was set in front of his desk.

"Sit if you want."

Not waiting to see if she took him up on the offer, he walked over to a stack of files that was shoved against an overstuffed bookshelf. After a few seconds of deliberation he grabbed some from the middle and headed back to his chair, shoving the files that were onto his desk off to the corner, placing the new ones on the now clear space.

"So you want all the gruesome details then?" he chuckled darkly as he flipped the first one open revealing several photos, all washed in red. He shoved the file towards her with one hand while searching for his pack of cigarettes with the other.

[Mlle Bienvenu]

All were killed, with the exception of Salem, by implosion of their brains

Shou Tucker (Sewing-Life Alchemist) and Nina Tucker (merged with a dog ) plus two guards (central) (maybe he might like to comment on the fact that nina tucker was merged with her dog by Shou. . .the sicko. . . :-P )

Five unnamed state alchemists, plus those who got in the way (central - said by hughes in Flame vs Fullmetal)

Brigadier General Basque Gran (Iron-Blood Alchemist) plus those in the vehical with him (East, three years since the Nina incident)

Jolliot Comanche (Silver Alchemist)

Salem Bradley (supposedly :-P Knife wound to the throat)

[Lolua]

((Clara/Psiren))

Clara stood unmoving as she endured Knox's scrutiny. Her story would fall to pieces like the ashy cigarette in the coroner's mouth if he found any point of weakness or twitchiness in her self-composure.

These moments were never easy; though she had long considered herself a cool liar, her methods had always counted on very casual encounters, relying on her smarts and acting skills to blend seamlessly into every new situation. If Knox had been an alchemist, and had laid his hands on Clara to analyze her structure and peer into her soul, that investigation might have been easier to endure than the present one. But what sort of conclusion the doctor came to, she did not know, for she could read nothing in his face to indicate that he thought any less or more of her than he had when she walked into his office.

This scrutiny ended when he invited her to sit and then turned to retrieve some files. Clara sat, feeling the hard metal chair squeak under her weight as if it were unaccustomed to regular use. Clearly Knox didn't hold many consultations in his office.

I can't imagine why, she thought sardonically to herself.

But Clara was glad of the chair's support when, a moment later, the first of the bloody images tumbled from the file and came to rest in front of her chair.

It was a good thing she hadn't eaten anything heavy for breakfast, or she'd have lost it right there. She had picked up the habit of light breakfasts as a nurse, when she'd often had to come in and steel her stomach to perform unpleasant procedures first thing in the morning.

Now the skill of compartmentalizing her disgust came in handy; she swallowed once, convinced herself that she was fine, and replied to the doctor's question.

"Yes," she said with a thin, determined smile, "every last one."

[Demonic Neko]

"Lets get started then. The first pictures you are looking at are of Shou Tucker, also known as the Sewing Life Alchemist," Knox began pointing at the first set of pictures. He paused, "Actually that's not true, his first vitims were the guards that were outside Tucker's home." Knox rummaged through one of the other files and pulled out another photo, tossing it on top of the others. It showed several soliders, dead, blood pooling under their heads.

"These men were guarding Tucker, who was under house arrest after what he did to his daughter... Who became The Alchemist Killer's next victim."

[Lolua]

((Clara/Psiren))

Shou Tucker, the Sewing Life Alchemist. State Alchemists' titles were always so confusing: "Fullmetal" only had automail on one arm and one leg, while his brother walked around encased in a full suit of armor. She wondered briefly if Tucker had been an alchemic doctor, and if not, what kind of life-sewing he had performed.

The revelation that Scar had attacked guards didn't really surprise her. She herself had often treated faceless policemen rather carelessly, writing their injuries off as collateral damage. Psiren's tidal waves had half-drowned them, and her cards had torn at their clothing and given them what she suspected were rather nasty cuts. They had signed up to be policemen; did they really expect it to all be sunshine and daisies?

But Scar had killed these men, whose blood-streaked faces were frozen forever in Knox's gory photographs, with his own hand They had stood in the way of his vengeance, and instead of stunning, blocking, or scaring them, he had killed them all. Had they pulled their guns on Scar? she wondered. Would that have counted as self-defense on Scar's part?

She quashed the notion as self-indulgent grasping at straws, reminding herself that she was here for hard evidence, not more avenues for speculation.

The attack on the guards proved that not everyone Scar killed had been a State Alchemist. She vaguely remembered now -- a memory triggered by the stark images before her? -- that Scar had said something about killing State Alchemists and "those who got in the way." It made her wonder just how much of a roadblock Scar might consider a young boy, the son of the Fuhrer, to be.

"Interesting," she forced herself to say with what professional detachment she could muster. "This daughter of Tucker's... was she a State Alchemist as well? What had Tucker done to her that he'd been arrested?"

[Demonic Neko]

Knox gave her a mirthless grin, "Actually, Nina Tucker wasn't an alchemist at all. She was a child, approximately 5 years of age." He pulled out a fresh cigarette and lit it up, taking a few puffs to get it started.

He watched Clara for a few more moments before placing another photo on top of the others. It showed a small creature laying in a pool of blood. Before Clara could comment he spoke again.

"Shou Tucker had merged his daughter with their pet dog to create a chimera that could learn to speak." He leaned back in his chair. "From what I heard, Tucker was trying to get re-certified as a State Alchemist and did that to his daughter, just to see if he could."

[Lolua]

((Clara/Psiren))

"She was a child..."

Clara had once -- well, several times in the course of a day -- risked her freedom and her life for Scar. No wonder he had kept saying she shouldn't, with a crime like this one on his hands. How could he keep going on with his crusade against State Alchemists when he had killed a little girl in cold blood? It was beyond comprehension.

Now utterly disgusted with herself, Clara realized she should never have come to Central. And when Knox showed her the photograph of what had apparently once been a five-year-old girl, she thought her heart would break.

And then, having an apparent penchant for the dramatic, Knox dropped his bombshell.

"A chimera?" she asked dumbly, startled. "I didn't think those were possible." She didn't imagine it would be comfortable to be merged with a dog, and not just because you'd always be scraping what had once been your knuckles on the floor and snapping at fleas. Making a chimera was human transmutation, similar to but perhaps not quite as taboo as trying to resurrect the dead.

Which gave her an idea, and a question that a moment's reflection told her would probably be within the scope of a doctor's curiosity if not strictly inside the boundaries of her investigation.

"What was the girl's prognosis?" she asked, scribbling on her notepad so she wouldn't have to make eye contact with Knox when she asked.

[Demonic Neko]

Knox flipped through the file. "Well I belive it was the first time that anyone had preformed such a procedure, so more than likely the girl would of been stuck that way." A small frown tugged at his lips. "But knowing these alchemist, they might of come up with some way to turn her back.. At least one would hope..."

[Lolua]

Hope. Not a very comforting word in that bitter context, but it stood well enough on its own. Vaguely Clara remembered being taught that making a chimera was a process that could not be reversed, which was one of the reasons why it had long been considered dangerous alchemy to perform. She couldn't reassure the gruff coroner on this count, naturally, because Dr. Lampert was supposed to be alchemically ignorant, but the thought kept her company even as she contemplated the horrible condition into which that little girl's own father had forced her.

If the Tucker girl was stuck that way, then of course it would have been kinder to put her out of her misery. Part of her wondered if Scar had such mercy in him, but somehow she found that a lot easier to imagine than him killing the chimera-girl in cold blood...

Or murdering the Fuhrer's young son.

Clara had almost gotten all the information that she came for. She listened as Dr. Knox enumerated and described in vivid detail the other murders of State Alchemists and militaty personnel which had been committed by Scar, each following that same skull-exploding method. While she tried to remain detached and professional, by the end of the list she felt exhausted from hearing her friend's crimes compiled in a long, monotonous, and bloody chain.

As Dr. Knox's presentation came to a close, Clara put down the pen with which she had been taking absent-minded notes.

"I wonder, doctor," she said carefully, allowing a little compassion to tinge her voice, "is it too soon after the fact to ask about the Salem Bradley case?"

[Demonic Neko]

Knox leaned back in his chair and picked at a file that he had been glancing at before this woman had invaded his office.
"Funny thing about the death of Salem Bradley. As I told you, the heads of all the Alchemist Killer's victims had been imploded. Salem Bradley's killer did something completely different..." He paused as he flipped the file open. After a few moments he pulled out the notes he had quickly scrawled after the autopsy. This was one murder where there were no pictures for.

"Salem Bradly's death was caused from blood loss from a deep laceration to the throat which appeared to be made with a straight, saber like blade.."

[Lolua]

I thought this post was complete when I wrote it in the car... but then I got home and reread the previous Knox post and realized she hadn't really responded to anything. >_<

---

((Clara/Psiren))

The Bradley kid had been cut across the throat with a blade? For Clara it was even harder to imagine Scar doing this than exploding Salem's braincase. He was too focused on his mission and too self-reliant to use a knife when his bare hands would do; snapping the child's neck would have been more believable. Scar didn't need or want weapons when he had that destructive arm at his command.

Clara schooled her features as she felt rage against the injustice of it bubbling inside of her. It wouldn't do for the doctor to sense any outrage in her; as a doctor of psychiatry and particularly as a woman, it was in character for her to be upset at the fact that a child had been slaughtered like a sacrificial victim, but that was as far as her emotional response could be allowed to go.

Knox himself had been fairly even-handed so far, sticking to the facts and playing it as straight as that saber blade he'd been talking about. But something about what he'd said caught her attention...

"But Salem Bradley's killer did something completely different..."

Clara now suspected that Knox didn't buy Scar's connection to the killing any more than she did... but she couldn't be certain, and she wasn't willing to risk everything on a man who seemed so taciturn and unreadable.

She thought carefully before asking her next question; Clara had to be sure of Knox's cooperation in answering it before she could let the seditious words leave her mouth... just in case. The question had to be phrased just right, to make Knox understand the true meaning without making it sound like she was too suspiciously sympathetic to the Alchemist Killer. "Dr. Lampert" had to be on a quest for the truth without showing interest in clearing a single man's name.

"What made anyone think the Alchemist killer was responsible, then?" she asked innocently, as if she really expected that to be some as-yet undiscussed part of the report, perhaps something beyond the scope of the autopsy itself. "Witnesses at the scene?"

[Demonic Neko]

Knox looked at her for a moment, his expression carefully neutral. He had already told her too much for his own good. With all the secrecy that surrounded this murder, he knew that a cover up of a very massive scale was going on. He suspected that it led to the Fuhrer himself, but knew better than to question what he was told. He liked breathing, thank you very much.

So, what was he to tell this Dr Lampert woman? He could lie.. In fact that might be the safer course of action at the moment. What if she was sent by those high muckity mucks who had started this whole cover up in the first place?

"I'm a coroner not an investigator," he stated firmly, "I just cut up the bodies and deal with the facts that are given to me. It's not my job to speculate. If they say the Alchemist Killer did this, then who am I to argue?"

[Lolua]

((Clara/Psiren))

"Who, indeed?" Clara replied, laughing a little, though the whole thing smelled foul. He had been so upfront about everything thus far, relishing all the disgusting details of his craft, and now to suddenly clam up... It was suspicious, to say the least, and her knowledge of people gave her one further insight: Knox seems mighty un-opinionated for someone so generally grumpy.

In Clara's eyes, it was as good as if he had backed up Scar's innocence with five independent reports and a photograph of someone else slitting Salem Bradley's throat.

Clara smiled at Knox -- not as broadly as she wanted to, but enough of a grateful smile to express that the meeting hadn't been a waste of time.

"Well, I must thank you, doctor, for your professional opinion in these matters," she said officiously. "This meeting has been most helpful." Clara stood up and smoothed out the skirt of the tweedy suit she'd put on this morning as her "costume" of the day.

"I'll be leaving now, as I have another appointment this morning," she added, referring to her upcoming counselling session with the Bradleys, which was more important now than ever. If this campaign to blame Scar for the murder went to the top, then the Fuhrer himself might be the only one to know the truth about his son's death... and with a little careful questioning, she might be able to figure it out.

"...unless you have anything to add about the cases we've discussed?" she demurred politely, giving Knox one last chance to come clean with any additional information.

[Demonic Neko]

Knox shook his head, standing up as well, prepared to show this woman out of his office. Dredging all this up made him nervous, since the higher ups had made a point of the fact that the death was caused by the alchemist killer, despite the fact that the evidence said otherwise. He was left to wonder whose side this woman was on.

A thought crossed his mind as he stood up, prepared to show her the way out, and at the last minute he grabbed the damning file holding it behind his back as he herded the young woman, (her name escaped him now) towards the door. At the last moment he slid the file into her hand.

"I think you might be needing this, and in the future.. You may want to be careful about the questions you ask, and who you ask them to. Such things are hazardous to one's health..."

[Lolua]

((Clara/Psiren))

Clara turned toward Knox, one hand poised on the worn doorknob, as the edge of the file made contact with her other palm. She stood there dumbly, at a loss for words, as she looked at him, not quite comprehending either the warning or the gift he had given her. Having lived with danger on a nightly basis for the last few years, it was perfectly clear that he meant every word, and that she had just been far stupider than she really should have been in pressing the issue of Salem.

All Clara's cleverly worded, innocent little questions were worth nothing when all along the danger lay in the subject matter itself.

The empty silence needed filling, but what could she say to Knox? Was it possible to politely thank a man for such a perilous gift?

No... but as she had been unsettled by his words, so too could she unsettle him. He was, after all, still male, and tweedy suit or not, she was still Psiren.

Clara smiled a bit -- almost flirtatiously -- and met his gaze as she said, "So's smoking... but I don't see you quitting that, either. I'll see you around... doctor."

Her grin widened and she gave Knox a small wink before turning away. Tightening her grip on her briefcase and the precious file folder, Clara twisted the knob of the door, yanked it open, and strode toward the exit as fast as her high-heeled feet could carry her.

[Demonic Neko]

A humorless smirk pulled at the edges of Knox's mouth. Well the girl had asked for everything and he had given it to her. At least now he could wash his hands of this whole mess.

He turned back to his desk and began shuffling through his paperwork, his mouth drawn into a straight line. If the fool girl kept asking questions, she might get the wrong people very interested in her.

He shook his head and hunkered down in his chair. No. This was no longer his problem. If she wanted to get herself killed, that was all on her. He no longer wanted anything to do with it.

[Lolua]

((Clara/Psiren))

After leaving Knox's office, Clara sat on a bench in the little park across the street, digesting their meeting and killing time before she had to meet the Fuhrer and Mrs. Bradley for their counseling session.

Like a schoolgirl on a field trip, she had waltzed into the coroner's office and asked Knox for the truth, for the hard and gruesome facts. He had given them to her, though in a somewhat more enduring and heavier form than she had anticipated: a standard coroner's report, prepared by Knox himself, describing Salem's wound in great technical detail. What the file lacked in photos it made up for in the precise, vivid diction of a coroner who knew a thousand different ways to say "dead".

Clara looked down at the file that lay open across her lap. These facts were undoubtedly dangerous, yes, but fatal? Knox had made it sound as if they were poised to mortally wound her in the side like a double-edged blade...

The same straight saber that had killed Salem Bradley, perhaps.

She swallowed and turned a page. Dr. Knox was an expert in his field, so if he said something was "hazardous to her health", then she had to believe that it might very well get her killed.

Whether or not this had anything at all to do with Greed's call to her, Clara was in way over her head... but the only thing to be done, really, was to wade through it until she reached the other side. If she pulled out now, burned the file, and went home to Aquaroya, disappearing anonymously into the fabric of the water city as she had so many times before, disguised as so many different Claras... Greed would find her. He was that sort of person. He never went back on a deal, and didn't have a lot of patience for those who would.

Clara sighed and closed the file folder, then tucked it label-side down into her briefcase. Not quite daring to let the thing out of her sight and lacking any secure spot in Central where she could squirrel it away, there was little choice but to bring the damning folder with her to her next appointment.

She rose, brushed off her skirt, and walked a few blocks down the street until she found a doorman who was willing to hail a cab for the pretty girl with the nice legs and important-looking briefcase. He wasn't strictly supposed to do that, since she wasn't a guest or a resident in the apartment house he was guarding, but Clara's flirtatious smile was encouragement enough for him to bend the rules a little...

A few minutes later Clara stepped out of the taxi onto the austere white pavement in front of Central Headquarters.