Leon Giroux's Story

Leon sat on a stone bench, adjacent to the Police Department. He'd been told a new officer had joined the department which meant Giroux would have another body trailing him for the next few weeks. He never minded the company, he would of even enjoyed it if not for their relatively short shelf life.

He glanced down at the seeds piled up in his hand, picking one out occasionally and slipping it past his lips as he waited for the officer to join him.

El was experiencing a mixture of feelings. Excitement, nervousness… mainly disappointment. How long would she be shadowing other officers? It wasn’t a good mind-set to approach any job with, but her grumpiness wasn’t shifting no matter how much she tried to look on the bright side.

The bright side:

Her jaw moved the way a cows might whilst chewing grass, a habit she’d gotten into, a sign that showed she was frustrated.

It wasn’t raining.

The man was easy enough to spot. Figures passed in and out of the doors to the station, some uniformed, others not, most carried an air of importance as they strode to their destinations. This man was lingering, waiting.

As she made in a straight line for him she attempted to arrange her face into an expression that wasn’t downright unpleasant and grouchy. El wasn’t too sure if it was working. She smiled anyway and stuck out a hand to her partner, almost knocking the seeds straight out of his palm once she'd come to a square standstill.

“Elodie Blanc”

Her tone of happiness was noticeably strained.

Leon moved his hand down and away, trying to salvage the small mountain of seeds that rested in his palm. A few were lost in the process, spilling off the pile and skipping into the dirt. He looked at the scattered few before gazing up at the officer.

"Giroux. You in the business of knockin food outta stranger's hands?" He spoke with a thick accent.

He shut his hand, locking the remaining seeds away as he carried them to his jacket pocket. He rubbed his hand down his shirt before meeting Elodie's.

"I take it youre the new officer?"

“No” She said after taking a moment to decipher his words which were hidden by that accent. “I thought we were in the same business?” Her happy pretence had already begun to slide away, replaced quickly by snide.

“Yes. That would be me. I can see why you're a detective.” She released her hold on his hand after a firm handshake, which did leave a few seeds between her fingers, but she was just about polite enough to not scrub her hand on her trousers. Just about.

“Vargeras, we’re headed?” Just the thought of heading over there made her wrinkle up her nose. Nasty place. Full of werewolves - and a werewolf victim, apparently. If you could ever label one of them such a thing.

“I was told you’d be driving…”

Leon ran a hand through his hair, feeling each oliy strand pass between his fingers.

"Looks like you got this handled. What do yah need me for?" He stood, pulling a key from his pocket and sliding it into the officers palm before walking towards the passenger door of a beat Dodge, sporting a black and rust color scheme. The door screeched as he pulled it open.

“Aren’t you my babysitter?” she said, not hiding her bitterness very well.

Closing her fingers around the key, El mumbled a; “that works too.”

The car really wasn’t in the best of shape. The driver’s seat squeaked quite violently when she dropped into it, making her momentarily consider dieting. Most of the noises it was making sounded unhealthy, but when the engine was brought to life it didn’t sound like it was going to die just yet.

“How long you been working this? Get put on babysitting duty much?”

"Nope" Leon leaned back, pressing the soles of his shoes against the stripped dashboard.

"A little too early to be calling you Baby, anyways." He peered over at her for a moment, eyes skipping across her body. "Or maybe not." He let out a breath before gazing out the side window. His hand made its way back to his pocket, picking out a few seeds at a time.

"I do my job and Im not looking to get promoted. Get the greens dropped on me because of it. I dont mind it, never get tired of my partner."

She watched him prop his feet up and shot him a quick glance full of distaste. This wasn’t the weathered professional she had been expecting. In fact, he was anything but professional. At least his manner gave her high hopes for her own future career.

“Funny” El said without even the hint of a smile at his ‘baby’ comment before speedily pulling out.

Narrowing her eyes some, she stared straight ahead, mulling over her first impression of the man she had just met, her head tilted to the left a little as she did so. A bit vain, nonchalant, not aspirational and certainly not inspiring. A small sigh escaped from between her lips as she turned the corner and onto the main road which would take them into Vargeras.

“I’m assuming you’ve been briefed. Sounds like paranoia to me. When she called, she herself even said there were no traces of a physical break in at all. And, let’s face it, the woman, judging by her address, hardly lives the best lifestyle. Doubt she’d know someone who could even afford to hire anyone with magical abilities to pull off such a break in. And. Werewolf.” Elodie said the last part as though that confirmed the ‘victim’ for a fool.

“What do you think?”

"Listen, most important part of this job is a sense of humor. This line of work, it gets dark. Don't make it darker. Bosses aint gonnah be impressed cause you talk nice and look like you just came from a funeral." Leon funneled a few more seeds into his mouth, his heel clicking against the dashboard.

"Can't really tell you much without seein the scene. Dont walk into it with assumptions, itll just make it harder to see whats really there."

“I doubt humour is the most important part, really, unless you laugh criminals into jail. Which is impressive, I admit.” El chuckled some at her own joke, since she was sure she’d be getting nothing from her partner. That ended with a short sigh which sloped into awkward quietness between the two. The car seemed to be having its own conversation, however. As they made their way into Vargeras where the roads were less smooth, it rattled and bumped along, talking metallically whilst her occupants struggled to find something to converse about.

Luckily, they were saved by a voice emerging from the scratched dashboard.

"Looks like we're not going to find out, either. Higher priority call, take this next left."

Leon breathed through his nose, face scrunching as he tried to muffle a cough.

"Well at least you've got sense of humor, even if its a bad one." Giroux responded as if ten minutes hadnt passed.

---

The knowledge of the increase in werewolf attacks over the past few years, weeks, even, was enough to make El on edge as they drove through their haunt. Lining the streets were buildings which she would describe as shoddy. In her opinion, werewolves did not deserve any care from the state. They were dangerous, unruly, untrustworthy. She pulled in a little way up the street from the scene of the crime which was easily distinguishable by the small gathering partially visible down the alley in the morning light.

If she had to make an initial guess, she’d be putting this straight down to pack conflict. Werewolves really were a bunch of un-peaceful brutes.

She studied the area a bit closer, taking in the sodden rubbish laying in the gutters and trash piled against walls. Messy un-peaceful brutes.

The sun glinted off something half-hidden in the alley. A something which was strapped to someone’s back. Craning her neck, El let out a low whistle at what she judged to be an impressive greatsword.

“Hey, how come you don’t have one of those?” She asked Giroux as she reached to kill the engine.
If it was humour he wanted, then he’d have to get used to being the butt of the joke.

Leon funneled a few more seeds into his mouth. He took a moment to attempt to chew them before speaking, half chewed seeds muffling his words. "What? A svord?"

"Might make you look a bit less..." she watched him munch away. Him, he, this clown who was supposed to be her advisor "useless."

With that, she slung the keys back to him and climbed out of the car, only to step straight into a pile of soggy cardboard.

Leon shrugged. "Looks heavy, I've got back problems." He shoved another handful into his mouth, blowing his cheeks up like a squirrel.

He stepped out of the car, passing the bag of seeds to a vagrant dressed in burlap scraps before rubbing the reside off on his pants. The man smiled, taking the bag and disappearing into an alley.

Leon made his way towards the scene, pulling his badge out from beneath his grey t-shirt shirt and letting it hang against his chest. "Whos the cyclops?" His words were barely audible through his heavy accent. He addressed the other man; "Radio said it was a dog call, Choncey?" He peered down at the grisly corpse. "They're getting pretty brave with these..." He moved his hand to his waist, fingers capping what looked like a long, iron nail sitting in a leather holster.

Richard looked up, then greeted the man with a nod. "Nothing good, Kane. I'm not sure I've ever seen one like this before. Werewolf with sharper teeth, maybe. I don't know. It's why I called you down here. We've had two attacks within the last week. This is the third. It's strange, look-"

He knelt down on the ground next to the corpse, carefully avoiding the large puddle of blood around it. Pulling out a pen from his pocket, he pointed to the space around the bite. "That's a lot of slobber. But the wound almost looks like it's been made with a knife. This is also the only injury we can pick out. Until we get this guy to our pathologist, we won't know much more. What do you think?"

As two more people began to approach, Richard got up and approached them, scowling at the nickname. "It's not Choncey," he growled. "Kane, you know agent Giroux, I'm sure. Ah, who is this?" he asked, gesturing to the young woman.

El had trailed after Giroux, quite ungracefully as she’d been slyly trying to get the saturated cardboard off the bottom of her boot by dragging it along the concrete. She came to a momentary standstill behind the bodies which ringed the corpse before worming her way in besides her partner.

To be honest, the sight made her a bit queasy, she hadn’t seen anything this bad so far, and her discomfort was written across her face.

What did she think?
She was sure they weren’t asking her, but… two attacks within the last week. But from what she’d heard, she’d describe them more as maulings. Whereas this… this seemed purposeful, targeted, there was no denying the fatality of that single wound -

Giroux brought the palm of his hand against his forhead, squinting his eyes "Doh! Forgot we ended up naming you Richard. Choncey was our second choice. Apologies." He smiled before peering over his shoulder. "I dont know, she just kinda followed me here. Get behind the yellow tape, lady."

El shot Giroux a reproachful glare.
“Elodie Blanc, I’m his shadow. Greeny.” She might have smiled if she wasn’t agitated at how this ‘seasoned officer’ was influencing her first impression. Not that her own attitude was helping in any way.

Aldous merely looked over the new arrivals and scoffed; especially at the woman who introduced herself as a greenhorn. "Fine lot you work with, Dick," he stated dryly. He turned his attention back to the corpse. It was quite a vicious kill indeed; Aldous wondered, for a brief moment at least, if the victim felt anything before the lights went out. Instantaneous death, or the slow, bloody kind?

"Emerich Michael..." he said absentmindedly. The name didn't ring any bells, as was expected. He pondered over the corpse, however, the smell of blood and what he could only assume were voided bowels lingering on the air. Despite the horrid stench and gory visuals, Aldous kept his lunch. He'd seen a lot worse in his many years working for the Society; this young man's death was nothing too impressive, if he had to think back.

Still, he had to ask the obvious question: "Do we have any leads?" He was sure he knew the answer to that already, but it couldn't hurt to inquire.

"Eloide. Nice to meet you," said Richard, giving her a nod. There was a short glare given to Leon before he turned back to the hunter.

Raising one hand, Richard flicked the wall beside them. "This is the Den. Hotspot for werewolves. I doubt this murder is linked to them or else they'd of disposed of the body and not left it festering out in the alley, but they might have heard something," he said, motioning for them to move out of the alley as several members from the forensics team came to collect the body. "I'll be questioning the members, and I want you all to do the same. Kane, I know you and werewolves- the Society and werewolves in general- aren't on the friendliest terms, so I'm leaving it up to you if you want to join us. I'll be keeping you up to date on any information we come across."

Leon trailed in behind Richard, fingers wrapped around the nail. It remained firmly within its leather housing, but his grip seemed to tighten around it. His hand stung.

He glanced at a few of the bars patrons, nose twitching slightly as he took in their scent. He cupped his nose within his free hand, attempting to calm its movement. As he continued watching the pack, his eyes fell on things they shouldn't. The door, its knob, the windows and the various exits.

"Yeah, what Choncey said."

Baron frowned as the police trailed into his establishment. Their presence turned more than a few heads, and a few patrons made it a point to finish off their drinks to leave early for the night. More than a few of the people who visited The Den where faces that didn't want to be crossing words with the police.

No one seemed to be jumping at talking to the police and those who didn't leave turned back to their drinks and ignored the police entirely.

"We'll talk more later," Baron told Blaze.

Even without anyone aiding the police in their search, it wouldn't take them long to locate him in his usual seat by the window. He had a handful of arrests under his belt, though they had never been able to pin much on him over the years. A handful of misdemeanors, some assault and battery charges, and a few counts of obstructing justice. He had seem some prison time for the latter, but they had only been able to nail him with two years. With his position at the head of the Bloodstone Pack, and his pack members accumulating a far wider range of criminal offenses over the years, the police where always keeping half an eye on his goings.

It was enough to sow some unpleasantness between him and the police, but with far larger concerns going on in the city - including the spread of organized crime among the Crescent Sky pack - Baron's goings on where typically of a far lower priority.

Jesse moved a hand to Blaze's elbow as he nodded his head to guide her away from the table.

"I'm going to check on Re'Altarm," he said to Baron.

The police being in here made him uneasy, and he wanted to check up on her now that the matter of Blaze was taken care of.

Baron only nodded briefly as he withdrew a pack of cigarette's from his pocket. He propped one foot up against the seat of another chair as he lit a cigarette up and took a drag of it and waited for the police to find their way to his table.

The doors opened again, and walking in came yet another detective. She laid a hand on Leon's cheek and pushed him to the side in a rude and unprofessional greeting. "Morning, mouthbreather," Jeanne joked, flashing her badge. She nudged Richard. "Gave the little speech?"

Richard arched a brow. "Yes."

"Not very responsive, mm? You did it wrong."

The scar-faced man scoffed at his senior. How did he get in a department with a bunch of morons?

"I'm going to question Baron. You ain't the one for 'im, Choncey" said Jeanne, walking ahead of him over to Baron's table. She threw out the ends of her long coat behind her before sitting herself down. "Hallo, there. I don't think we've actually formally met, but you've got quite the reputation around the office. I'm Jeanne Bonheur. I'm happy to finally meet you, Baron. So, now." Jeanne gave him a tight smile, raising up her eyebrows. "Is there anything you can tell me about last night? Some strange murder you got in your alley, huh?"

Leon pushed his cheek against her hand, smiling lightly. "Finally, someone shows up without a broom up their ass". His eyes flicked towards the door as a small white rat trailed in behind the officer.

He spectated it for a moment longer, watching it sneak behind the counter top. He looked back towards the officer as she began speaking. He let out a quiet laugh; Looked like his nickname for Dick would catch on quicker than he thought. He made his way towards her, remaining silent. For the first time in a long time, the childish look left his face as he gazed upon Baron.

He didn't dare to speak. He had done enough to hurt his cause the last time he encountered the man.

The hard realization of undeath and finding yourself in a less-than-hospitable city has a tendency to get on someones nerves big time. This reflected in his once savvy small-talk skills being replaced by a void of damp air. Eli took another drink, trying to rack up some sass, but his body just seemed to jump straight to the hangover phase, which did not help his case of post-death crankiness.
And then without warning, the law enters the room.
The law, in this case, was a fancy lad dressed in a jacket, shouting about murder and yellow tape. Not soon after another strapping lawman enters the room, reinforcing the statement the first one was giving. As they walked around, Eli felt uneasy since he was not sure if being undead was a criminal offense in this armpit of Terra, and tried to keep his head down. On the other hand the authorities could get him out of this planet, back to the Old Country, if his ID was still valid. The thought of this suddenly materialized the central problem Eli was having trouble to solve. Eli leaned over the counter to speak to the bartender under his breath.

"What year is it?"

"I don't know anything about it," Baron replied simply. "Other than you've been running my business off all night."

A dead body in an alley wasn't too unusual of an occurrence in Vargeras, but the presence of the the police all over the street outside his bar was deterring some of his more unsavory patrons. They had a fraction of their usual crowd tonight.

"Are you going to be in here long? Or should I just close up for the night, because I'm not going to have any customers left soon."