Forums » General Roleplay » Murderer. (Closed)

Trixie managed to open her eyes and look up at Owl. "Y-yeah, I'm fine--OH MY GOD!" Her eyes widened as she shot up and went on her knees in front if him, spotting the blood. "You're bleeding!" She panicked as she reached out her hand to put pressure on is wound but withdrawed, not wanting to hurt him. She looked at him. "We have to..get you to a hospital!" She said as she searched her jacket pockets for her cellphone. She expected everyone to already be out of the building from the loud noise the gun shot made, and nobody dared to go on the bathroom.

He nodded. "Yeah. He shot me on his way out. I didn't chase him though- I wanted to make sure you were okay first... We can definitely assume he's the janitor. He used a few cleaning solution mixtures to make that. I can smell it from here." He said. "Now we have a face. We need a name. Something's nagging me though.. I don't think he's alone in this."
[Owl totally doesn't care that he's been shot. He's still babbling about the evidence. ]

((Pfft. ))
She listened to him but she couldn't take her eyes off his bleeding wound. She finally was understanding what he was saying, talking about the case again while he's bleeding to death. She took both of her hands and held his face in her hands. "Lets worry about who that man was later, for now, lets make sure you don't die on this bathroom floor." She whispered as she looked at him. Her hands then continued searching for her cell phone in her pockets. She found it after a moment then pulled it out. "Got it." She stated as she dialled 911 into the phone. When the police picked up, she explained everything to them in a short summary. She also told them where they were currently.

Owl stood up. He was a little wobbly at first, and for a good reason. Holding his shoulder, he looked down at the pool of blood he'd bled onto the floor. "Interesting." He said, quite pale. "I haven't passed out ye-.." Well. Yeah. He did. He collapsed on the bathroom floor in a thud, just as police and paramedics arrived. He was hauled onto a stretcher, and with his last conscious thought, he mutteed: "Don't blame Trixie." Before passing out again. Was that the first time he'd called her that? Probably. Mainly it had been "Detective" or "Detective Harabell".

Trixie was there the whole time. She watched as the paramedics came and hauled Owl out in an ambulance. She quickly walked behind them, following them to the ambulance. A man paramedic stopped Trixie though, from entering the ambulance. "Sorry, ma'am, your going to have to fine visit him later." He said. "N-no! Please! You don't understand! I need to know if he is alright. Please!" Trixie basically begged and pleaded with the paramedics before they let her get on the ambulance and ride along with Owl. She sat beside him and reached out for his hand, grabbing it gently as she looked down at him.

Owl was in the hospital for about a week, give or take. Today he left, despite the doctors' wishes for him to stay. His first stop was at a pawn shop, where he bought a pistol and a few clips, then renewed his permit at the license place so that he could carry it in a holster on his side. Once that was done, he walked to the police station and looked through the files of detectives, found Trixie's address and decided to pay a visit. "God how lovely it is to be me. I get access to almost all of the files, no questions asked." He muttered to himself, wincing slightly when a little chuckle pained his shoulder. He knocked on the door, taking a step back to allow room for the resident when she answered. His shoulder was bandaged and stitched under his clothes, but he didn't want Trixie to know anything about it. Judging from her reactions when the wound first occurred, she'd probably freak out and order him not to overwork himself. He couldn't afford such a thing as others worrying about him.

Trixie had only gone to work twice since Owl got shot. There wasn't much to do there since she couldn't go on with the case by herself. So, she decided to take a few days off she stay at home. There wasn't much to do at her house either but watch TV and sleep all day. She would usually stay in her pajamas all day too.

Trixie was sitting on her couch watching the news. More murdere have been made. She sighed, feeling helpless. She was in her pajama pants and shirt with her hair wet after taking a shower. Her eyelids were getting heavy and she was just about to fall asleep when she heard a knock on the door. She sprung up from the couch and her knee popped while doing so. "Ow." She mumbled while she made her way to the front door. She opened the door while looking down at the ground, "Hi--Oh! It's you!" She said, surprised as she hugged him gently, making sure not to hurt his shoulder. "How have you been? You all fixed up now? I've been so worried!" She said as she pulled away and opened her door more so he could go in. "Please, come in." She said as she pressed her back against the door.

Owl let out a sharp gasp when he was hugged and tensed up, though that was from surprise, mainly. "Yeah... Fixed up, mostly. As for how I've been, well... Hospital food sucks, I can never get enough bedding and what bedding I do itches like hell, there's nothing good on TV and the nurse I had wouldn't stop talking and tried insisting on a sponge bath, which I strongly refused. Hospitals creep me out too much to have some strange woman washing me." He said with a shudder, though with his grin on his face it was obviously he wasn't really complaining, just trying to sound like he was while stating his opinions. He stepped inside and tapped his new gun and holster, showing it off. "It's an M9. Super accurate, large clip and semiautomatic. It's a military grade. I've had my eye on it for a while, but I haven't bothered until now. My stun gun wasn't much use from afar, of course." He made himself (quite rudely by putting his feet up and laying back in the cushions) comfortable on the couch, sighing softly. "Ahhh.. Yeahhh. It actually feels like a couch and not ply board with material stretched over it."

Trixie laughed at his little "hospital" story and shut the door behind them. She looked down at his gun, "An M9? Wow. Lucky duck." She smiled then made her way to the couch and sat down beside him. Trixie placed her hands in her lap and sat up straight. She didn't mind Owl lounging either. She thought he had a rough weak at a boring hospital. "Are you thinking about going back to work soon?" She asked, "...Because, well, you should take some time off. You could still do a little healing." She said quietly.

"Yeah, it's been in there for a long time. Real expensive, but I never bothered with it until now. I already had a permit, I just needed to renew it." He sat up suddenly when the topic of rest came up, scrambling out the door. He soon returned with a photograph, perhaps trying to change the subject. It was a picture of the man that had attacked them a week ago. "Word on the street is that his name is Chad. While I was in the hospital I had a few friends of mine ask around and put this in my mail." He said, handing over the picture. "My psychological diagnosis of the perpetrator so far, is a case of sociopathic thought processes with a strong, big ol' tasty layer of ego. He thinks he's above everyone and can get away with this. But now we have a face and a first name. He'll be tough to catch... I don't think we should involve the police any right now though. When my own cases get to points like this they get pushy."

Trixie watched him run out the door. "Huh." She whispered before he came back. She looked at the photograph. "Yeah, that's him. Chad? Hmm..." She thought for a second then sighed. "I feel bad for...letting him get away. We'll get him next time." She said, thinking out loud. "Well." She sat back in the couch. "Atleast we know what he looks like." She said, "He looks like a big man. Maybe six foot something." Trixie said quietly, still thinking out loud.

Owl shrugged. "Doesn't matter. An M9 will put down a moose." He said with a toothy grin. "Anyway, at least we know who to look for now. I don't know what kind of gun he was using, but I sent my bullet to a friend who does underground forensics. She'll work out the ammo type and hopefully the kind of gun."

Trixie agreed. "Ok. Then once we find out what type of gun he used, we can surely have a better way of finding him again." She said as she sat back up straightly. "Would you like any tea? Coffee?" She asked as she looked at him.