Modus Operandi (Ryoma's Saga, pt. 1)

IN THE STERILE FLUORESCENT SPOTLIGHTS of the crime scene buzzed angrily, perhaps over being put to use long after usual business hours. The light was pointed unflinchingly towards the deceased subject, who was presently being surveyed by a dark, statuesque figure. The reflected light emphasized the hard angles of his obsidian-lined face, glinting whenever the tilted his head one way or another. To smoldering pools of lava were set back in crater-like eye sockets, pointed speculatively at the victim form behind a pair of silver-rimmed glasses.

Night calls were not exactly Tobias's cup of tea-- but when there was suspected pro hero involvement, Tobias was the one who was often summoned. His summons came at ten o' clock, when the middle-aged librarian had been settling into his favorite spot-- the reading nook in his living room-- with a cup of tea and his most recent book. His phone rang, displaying the insignia of the hero association. When Toby answered, his presence was requested at the local pet shop immediately. Tobias went.

The stony-shelled Tobias was staring speculatively at the deceased. His mind churned over the tea-gone-cold that he'd left at home, his hands clasped solemnly behind his back. When a pair of brisk footsteps became audible in the quiet din of the crime scene, the detective lifted his gaze. A dark-haired man had arrived at the scene, not in police wear-- at the sight of the body, he brought a hand to his mouth.

Tobias watched, his hands clasped patiently behind his back. The man knelt at the sight of the victim, murmuring something unintelligible to the elemental's ears. Tobias waited-- and, once he was sure that the other man had no more to say, he finally spoke.

"Artisan?" Tobias finally spoke-up, his tone low and careful. The man seemed to be relatively normal. At the very least, his hero costume wasn't exceedingly eccentric, "Good evening. Thank you for coming out at such an unseemly hour."

When Tobias spoke, his mouth was also lined with magma, and glowed in the low-light. The gentleman extended a jagged obsidian hand, offering a handshake to the fellow pro-hero. Besides his clearly-mutated visage, Tobias was likewise a fairly normal site to behold-- dressed in a suit, over which he wore a formal winter coat.

"I am the Informant," Tobias explained, "I am the one who sent for you, just as I was sent for."

He smiled a thin, mirthless smile. It was probably lost in the darkness. He wanted to be at home, not helping process a crime scene.

"We may have some matters to discuss, if you would be so kind," Tobias spoke in his patient, mellifluous tones. He extended an arm, gesturing towards the aquarium section of the store, "There is an employee office that has been generously provided for our use. If you would please accompany me."

While Tobias spoke mindfully, he also spoke succinctly-- they had a limited number of hours before daylight, and he wanted the crime scene closed before daylight. Although sunrise felt a long ways off, Tobias didn't want to risk wasting any time.

ft. ryoma nijima

517 words

tl,dr: he's doing his job, but he's butthurt about his tea going cold at home.

THE OBSIDIAN-SHELLED MAN BOWED faintly at the waist. When his proffered hand was not shaken, Tobias simply secured it behind his back once again. A hum escaped him-- perhaps humored, perhaps mildly discontent.

Artisans hadn't shaken his hand, or even bowed. He had nodded. The audacity of some people, these days. Tobias's expression was grave as he led Ryoma away from the scene, past the blue-lit walls of aquariums, towards the cluttered office. Regardless of the form he held, Tobias had an enviable poker face. As such, it was easy for him to conceal his churlishness over the flubbed introductions.

He blinked blearily at the glaring fluorescent lights overhead, allowing Artisan to enter first. Tobias followed shortly thereafter, closing the door behind them. It was a smallish room, particularly for a man as robust as Tobias. But it was the only area they'd cleared, and he wanted to speak privately. Tobias meandered towards a pair of leather chairs, taking a seat in one of them.

The man remarked about how Tobias must have had questions, as he bobbed aimlessly around the room. He was probably a little frazzled. Who in their right mind wouldn't be, after finding a crime scene personally addressed to you?

The obsidian golem watched the other man, but he was preoccupied with fishing an audio recorder out of his chest pocket.

"Yes, I always have questions," Tobias confirmed, a note of humor in his tone. He crossed one leg over the other, gesturing towards the vacant chair beside him. Whether the man joined him or not, Tobias held the recorder to his mouth, murmuring the date, the location, and Artisan's name, before setting the recorder on the arm of the chair.

Artisan spoke freely, and the Informant listened. He mentioned a case by name, one that the Informant was unfamiliar with. He pulled a small, spiral-bound notepad and a metallic pen from his chest pocket. He opened to the first blank page. "Nakano Murders" was written in small, precise text. Underneath, he wrote, "Artisan investigated these as a vigilante."

"What leads you to believe that it's the same perpetrator?" Tobias murmured. All this was information he'd find later when he pulled the case files. But it would be helpful to get a firsthand account. And a full firsthand account, but they didn't need to have the full exchange on-scene.

"Please allow me to… illuminate what my role is, in this process," Tobias requested, "Perhaps it will… help focus your narrative, yes?"

A dry smile touched his features. He adjusted his glasses with his forefinger and middle finger.

"I am a support hero that works independently from the local police department," Tobias began, "I specialize in cases that directly involve professional heroes-- either investigating on their behalf, or looking into cases that may be related to them."

It was his job to know about heroes, and find information for or about them. Hence his name.

"In less glamorous terms, I'm a grunt. I serve the professional heroes whose work is predominantly combat in the field. It's my duty to protect and serve you."

In other words, he was on Artisan's side. He wasn't trying to implicate his fellow hero in anything.

"I was summoned this evening to consult with the local criminal investigators regarding the codename that was left behind. When I confirmed that it was your former codename, I saw fit to summon you."

Perhaps he was repeating himself, but he wanted to be transparent with Artisan. He did not serve the cops. He was independently contracted to serve heroes.

"We can, of course, schedule additional meetings at later dates," Tobias assured the other man, "But, off the top of your head… can you describe to me your findings in the previous cases? Witnesses with whom you spoke, perhaps, similarities between those homicides and this one… whatever comes to mind. Anything that you think will help me."

ft. ryoma

651 words

tl,dr: he's here for you, but only if you shake his hand.

AS ARTISAN SPOKE, THE OBSIDIAN GOLEM would nod attentively, his luminous eyes boring-in to the other hero to show that he was listening. Periodically, he would avert his eyes—only to jot down a note on his steno-pad—before returning the molten stare to Ryoma. Some were unnerved by Tobias’s tendency to stare—but it sprung from a place of respectful attentiveness, at best, and a desire not to miss a single tell, at worst.

His notes were shorthand, perhaps unintelligible to the outside observer, but perfectly sensible to Tobias:

- Look-in to Nakano killer

--> Compare previous cases to current, copycat??

“It is an odd detail to include,” Tobias agreed, touching his ballpoint pen to his mouth, briefly.

- Look-in to Artisan’s/L.C.’s previous contacts.

Tobias let the pen rest, for a moment as Artisan did his best to delineate the earlier cases. All this was information he could likely glean from case files, but he saw benefit to speaking with witnesses (or investigators) firsthand.

A straight line was drawn across the page, and concise number “1” was circled in the upper-left corner, following Ryoma’s segue into the first case he investigated. His pen flitted over the page, recording each of the details that Artisan recounted. Tobias elected for less… descriptive ways of recording laceration, opting for the strictly clinical as opposed to making assumptions.

Young adult female target, dark hair, at Nakano Station five years ago. Multiple, thin lacerations with no discernible pattern or localization.

- Other cases attributed to NK prior to Artisan’s involvement? Research.

He sighed. Violence, while prevalent in plenty of literature, was different in-person. Who could have imagined that this quiet, unassuming librarian would soon be neck-deep in such grizzly investigations? He tapped his pen twice, then added.

- Art reported to PD, request case files ASAP.

He noted noting about whether or not the target was random, or what the lacerations looked-like. He’d discern that later when he compared cases. Tobias drew a line across the page, and wrote “2” before circling it.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, “Please continue.”

He was not the type to ask an abundance of questions. He listened, he wrote, and then if anything came to him at the end, he’d ask. It was part of the reason why he saw-fit to write notes. Besides which, he didn’t want to bias any of Artisan’s accounts by supplying leading questions. He wanted the information raw.

“I apologize for not being a more engaging investigator,” The Informant remarked, as per Artisan’s silence, “I prefer listening. As you move forward in your retelling, please highlight any similarities or differences you noticed.”

Crime was, unfortunately, common wherever there were people. As such, location wasn’t enough to suspect one person for numerous crimes.

ft. ryoma

460 words

tl,dr: toby is a man of few words, and very concise notes