10567/could've been an accident

could've been an accident
Date of Scene:	25 March 2022
Location:	Abandoned Warehouse
Synopsis:	J'onn and Jamie crack the case while Booster and Plas crack jokes
Cast of Characters:	J'onn J'onzz, Jamie Madrox, Booster Gold, Patrick O'Brian

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J'onn J'onzz has posed:
J'onn J'onzz One of the most appreciated quality that humans should possess is the ability to learn from past experiences, gaining knowledge that will eventually influence the perception of future events, places or situations. Oftentimes it translates in the underrated skill of being able to judge at a glance what places are dangerous and what not, what places are likely to be good spots to hang in and what not, and as cliche as it sounds an abandoned warehouse in Bronx, walls covered in graffiti, some used syringes and other even less healthy stuff littering the ground outside, seems like the ideal crime scene. Some may be encouraged to not judge at first glance, what if it is an entirely safe place? what if it is just the nicest place to be in?
The police tape all around the building disagrees, and so does the body lying right in the middle of the warehouse floor, just under a catwalk. Probably in his early twenties, the dead guy wears somewhat cheap clothes and nothing else, no watch, no wallets, just a t-shirt, jeans, sneakers and either the shirt was worn back-front or his head is just turned 180 degrees.
standing not far from the corpse, two meters of detective are watching the scene with green eyes, a badge on the left side of a longcoat identifying him as detective John Jones.

Jamie Madrox has posed:
How Jamie Madrox finds these places (and gets past police tape) is anyone's guess. It's unfortunate, but more often than not, if finding someone turns out to be a quick thing, then that person usually turns out to be very, very dead. There are exceptions to the rule, but they are few and far between.

At the moment, Jamie -- _a_ Jamie, anyway, it's impossible even for a psychic to really figure out which one is Jamie Prime -- takes a few steps closer to the body and lets out a long-suffering sigh. "Damn. He was easy to find."

Of course, Jamie Madrox isn't known as a mutant to the public. He's not _terribly_ private about it, to be fair, and some member of the superhero community -- especially those that run in similar circles as him, such as other private eyes, for example -- might know, but for the most part, he's just Jamie Madrox, P.I., PhD, MD, MA, BA, DVM, etc., etc., etc.

He looks to the side and then up at Detective Jones. "Jones," Madrox says. "You got an ID already or am I doing this part of the job for you?"

Sometimes private eyes and police detectives just... _collide_. Jamie's nice enough to not let it get to him, especially if he can troll the NYPD while he's at it.

Booster Gold has posed:
When there's a crime, who will make them do the time? BOOSTER.

When there's a scene, who will be there to preen? BOOSTER.

If you need help in a flash, and you can't find the Flash, who can sometimes do as a sort of replacement? BOOSTER!

No, really, that is an actual song that plays as Booster Gold slowly floats into the scene. He is wearing a pair of 1970's police officer shades underneath his visor, and the source of the song trails along after him, a small floating golden robot. "What're we lookin' at here, boys?" asks Booster Gold, somehow adopting the accent of every hard boiled NYPD cop from every tvshow of the 1980s all at once.

His police procedure is a bit sloppy, though, as he lands within the marked off area despite having the ability to fly wherever, and definitely accidentally kicks the body as he walks over to John and Jamie.

Patrick O'Brian has posed:
"Tch. Damn shame."

There's a man suddenly here in a yellow suit, complete with a toothpick in his mouth, slicked back hair underneath the red fedora and red trenchcoat. This man looks like he just stepped off the pages of a Dick Tracy comic strip or something. Notice the chiseled jawline in all of its splendor.

"Of all the warehouses in all the world, this body had to be found in mine."

That's right, the narration is happening and it doesn't look like it's going to be stopping any time soon. Who knows if anyone recognizes him, he's fairly new to this whole hero gig, but he's definitely making a name for himself. Or attempting to by showing up here where he probably shouldn't be.

"Youse fellas thinkin' fowl play? Cuz I smell chicken." A hand comes out of his pocket and a drumstick bone is tossed over his shoulder. "Nevermind. That was yesterday's lunch."

Who the...

J'onn J'onzz has posed:
J'onn J'onzz Likely, the appearance of Jamie should've surprised a detective, moreso perhaps that of Booster Gold, though the expression on the man's face is just a small frown as the body is moved "we have someone fortunately moving the body after, the pictures were taken and the scientific had a look...".
Turning to Jamie next, the detective clasps his hands behind his back offering the colleague, of sorts, a polite nod "James Falett, Jimmy for friends and family. 25 years, working at the mcdonalds not far from here and living basically across the street from it. Clean criminal record, no girlfriend, no boyfriend, almost no friends at all. They" and the glance at his own badge indicates that with 'they' he refers to his colleagues "say it could've been an accident, he just, fell, from there..." pointing now at the catwalk above "cause it's slippery and not so safe..."
Turning to booster gold again, he concludes "so we have people speaking mostly like you that say that someone came here for no apparent reason at all, climbed up there just for the view, and fell twisting his neck 180 degrees in the process..." his attention, however, quickly shifts to the newly appeared, current occupant of the warehouse? "is this legally your warehouse, sir, or just the place you sleep in?"

Jamie Madrox has posed:
"Yeah, well, his mama cared enough to hire me when he didn't show up for work at the MickeyDees for the third day straight and wouldn't pick up his phone or answer the door," Jamie tells Jones with a tilt of his head. "Did all the requisite," he adds, watching Booster kick the corpse and suppressing a snort. "No history of depression, no history of alcohol or drug abuse, no history or gang or criminal activity on or off the books, like ya said. Did have one thing, though," he adds, as Plas makes his entrance. "Debt. Lotta debt. His mama said he took out a less-than-legal loan to help her with the mortgage debt, then gambled half of it trying to expand it, lost hard... tried with the other half..." He looks at the corpse. "Same result, from the looks of it."

Booster Gold has posed:
"So who did he owe?" asks the goldenrod hero as he looks to Jamie. "Although that's probably just a red herrings - we all know you can't collect from a corpse. But we have to find the guy who he owes money to who will give us the clue about the guy who was hassling him and THAT's our killer!" Clearly Booster has seen one too many formulaic episodes of Law & Order.

He looks over at the Detective. "Or do you have another idea, John Jones?" There is something odd about how he pronounces that name. Maybe it's the grin. Or the wink.

Booster turns to look at Plastic Man and frowns for a moment. "Hey. There's only room for one of us to do this shtick." He pauses. "Unless we're gonna be buddy cops. I can /totally/ do buddy cops." He takes a few steps towards Plastic Man, nearly breaking the caution tape. "Which of us is getting too old for this sh--" He glances at John. "Uh, sorry." Back to Plas. "Crap."

Patrick O'Brian has posed:
"What?"

O'Brian blinks. "Oh, no, not mine as in /mine/. I was just doing the whole noir bit? Anyone?" Plas motions to himself and his outfit. Just in case the others aren't getting the joke. He probably shouldn't be joking around a dead body but he is what he is.

"Name's O'Brian. Patrick O'Brian. Private Dick." More toothpick chewing and a wink tossed to the others as he makes his approach. "First thing I learned at the School of Don Knotts? If it look like an accident an' everybody thinks it's an accident? It ain't no accident."

O'Brian crosses his arms. "I smell somethin' fishy an' it ain't my aftershave."

Plas looks over to Booster Gold. "I think you're onto somethin' here, pal. You're the cop badge that doesn't take no mess from no punks on the street. I'm the private dick with a chip on my shoulder the size of Mel Gibson's ego. We don't like each other but that's what makes us a very watchable duo." O'Brian is clearly taking this idea and running with it. Oh, well, except. "... uh and we'll solve the case too." Oy vey.

J'onn J'onzz has posed:
If someone rolling his eyes could make a sound, John would be so loud, though it is unclear if that is because of Booster's way of calling him with his real fake name, or the situation of the dead guy. "if you're owed money you don't exactly kill your debtor unless you want to give an example, which means the money owed arn't really missed, which could mean either an already organized and well established business, or a complete newbie that thinks this is the smartest thing to do, which is not..." a nod of aknowledgement is then offered to plastic man, as a thoughtful expression crosses the afroamerican traits of John's face "neckbreaking also is a rather, peculiar way to kill someone"

Jamie Madrox has posed:
"He didn't owe that much," Jamie says, "not from what his mama said the mortgage debt was. Even if you triple it, it isn't enough money for most outfits to worry about. It _is_ enough, though, for them to write it off and make an example out of him. Anyone else that owes them probably got a nice jpeg of this scene long before the cops got here."

He looks at Plas and Booster and shakes his head, laughing. "You two are gonna trip over each other so many times Don Knotts is gonan sue you for copyright infringement." Get it? Knotts? Knot? Never mind.

"I heard he owed the Black Dragons." Crime syndicate. Rumors of a guy with laser eyes. Maybe. "No confirmation though. But," he points at the corpse, "Jimmy was a mutant. I wouldn't tell the higher-ups, though," he says to Jones. "You know how they get all un-interested when it's a mutant.

Booster Gold has posed:
Nodding quickly to Plas, Booster Gold grins. "Yeah, yeah...we'll solve the case, and then realize we ain't so bad, and we'll clink our beers together while staring at the sunset while sitting on the hood of our Ford Thunderbird and watchin' all the ladies go by. I can dig it!"

He looks back towards John, and his face turns serious. Slightly. "So he's a dumb loanshark." he surmises. Then his face twists into a grin. "Or a smart one /pretending/ to be a dumb one, to throw us off his trail!" A quick look to Jamie. "Black Dragons, huh? Who is the /smartest/ person in their outfit?" He hears the talk of laser eyes and thinks for a moment. "Superman has laser eyes." He looks around for a moment. "Uh, but I don't see any scorch marks here, sir." he announces loudly, as if someone were overhearing him.

He leans over towards Plas and stage whispers. "How are we doing? Did we crack it yet?"

Patrick O'Brian has posed:
"Thunderbird, eh? I was leanin' towards an Impala." O'Brian gives a wave of his hand with dismissive flair. "We'll figure it out. As long as it's iconic." Looks like Plas is more into planning out this tv series that'll never happen as opposed to actually trying to solve this case.

"The Black Dragons, huh? Never heard of 'em. Granted, I'm usually out by way of Metropolis so this ain't exactly my turf. But, fuggedaboutit, I was in the neighborhood, y'know?" O'Brian tries to shrug it off. "Tell ya' what, I'll put the screws to a few of my pigeons. See if any of 'em wanna' sing."

O'Brian looks back over at Booster and leans for his returning stage whisper, "We're gettin' close. I can feel it in my bones."

J'onn J'onzz has posed:
"a mutant? mhm" John looks at the body again, studying it thoughtfully some more and nodding to himself "what could he do if I may ask? Also, the higher ups won't know..." the man concedes with a tired sigh "though doesn't really know like they're doing much of anything for the guy in any case, it's almost a personal project by now... As for the dragons, if they are so well established and the sum of money was nothing to speak of, the example lead makes perfect sense, and when this kind of criminals are involved, it also makes sense some of my colleagues are not really interested in doing their actual job".
Focusing his gaze on booster gold and plastic man, the detective rectifies "superman's sight is not exactly a laser, more like a... Ah well nevermind, call it a laser... But if you can find any informations about this person, it can certainly help and will surely be appreciated."

Jamie Madrox has posed:
Jamie shakes his head. "He had some low-level enhanced agility." The PI turns to look at Jones. "So you better believe he didn't just 'trip and fall'. From what his mama told me he was disqualified from gymnastics at school because he was a mutant. Listen, I'll mail you the rest of what I got."

Jamie sighs and shakes his head. "I gotta go tell his ma he's dead, and then try to convince her she doesn't owe me anything." Because even Jamie Madrox isn't low enough to charge a woman a fee for finding her dead son.

"Hey, you two." He looks at Plastic Man and Booster Gold. "Imapalas are for monster hunting. You want a Crown Vic. Obviously."

J'onn J'onzz has posed:
John nods again at Jamie "I will likewise mail you back what I find should I find anything and should you be interested in that..., I suppose now some paperwork is awaiting me and I believe the theory of an accident can be laughed at even without knowing of his agility." giving a final glance at the room, the corpse, the various still living people in their various outfits, the detective adds "I trust you all know how to get in touch, please reach to me personally within the department if needed. And a crown is definitely, policey, I'd highly advise it too!"

Booster Gold has posed:
Booster looks thoughtful about the car choice for a moment. But as John seems to have declared the mystery resolved and Jamie is off to tell the next of kin, that leaves Booster and Plas to...

"Brewskies?" he asks, nodding off into the distance. "That sunset isn't going to wait for itself."