4533/The Shooting Aftermath

The Shooting Aftermath
Date of Scene:	29 December 2020
Location:	Eden Investigations
Synopsis:	Eve and Jamie work together to figure out who shot, who.
Cast of Characters:	Eve Eden, Jamie Madrox

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Eve Eden has posed:
"The coffee is still on and hot, the first aid kit is in the bathroom to your left." The words are spoken with a note of concern, "So, if you refuse to go to the hospital, at least take care of your shoulder.." There's a slight pause, before the voice states. "Shoulders? How the hell do you even cope with that." The voice continues to ring outwards as the voice stalks up the stairs with a thud of booted feet upon carpeted stairs.

"I have dirt everywhere, I need to change, then we can discuss what the hell that was about. Was it you.. was it me.. was it just a random terrorist. It's New York, you never know!" The voice finally is almost shouting as the apartment located above the business is reached and a slam of a door is given.

It's only a few minutes after the shooting of one Jamie Madrox, and at the moment - he will have found himself..himselves? Situated in a small detective office after being teleported through a pocket dimension and back out again. The street outside is Metropolis. The office, itself, has a much more sterile and impersonal feel to it, and the owner, one Eve Eden, has disappeared upstairs for the time being.

Jamie Madrox has posed:
One moment he's in the middle of the park - the next... Who knows where? Not in New York, that's for sure. The duplicate that had been trying to run after the shooter is left alone with the would-be assassin's weapon, the mental link with his other selves all but gone after the teleportation, much too far to get any sort of input other than a general background awareness that they're somewhere alive. With the shooter's gun tucked under his trenchcoat, he bolts from the scene of the gunfire lest he be called into question himself, making a beeline for his own pad to catch up with himself later.

Which brings Jamie to the question of... just where *is* he? One of himselves is uninjured, two are sporting nasty gunshot wounds in the shoulder. And of *course* he turned down hospital treatment - even if he wasn't able to heal himself through creative duplication and absorption, he's got enough off-the-books contacts around New York (and, not to be discounted, the surrounding areas - like Westchester County) that he hardly needs to go into an emergency room where they'll start asking all sorts of probing questions about how he got shot. But the last thing he expected was to be teleported to another city entirely.

"Not wanting to go the hospital is lot different than not wanting to stay in New York," the uninjured Jamie quips as he takes stock of the office they're in. As he speaks, he begins to idly snap his fingers, creating additional copies of himself with a tell-tale *pok* noise that accompanies each duplication. At the same time, the two duplicates with shoulder wounds merge together, leaving just one wincing and injured Jamie to go along with what soon becomes a roomful of healthy ones. A single Jamie heads over to start fixing a cup of coffee while the rest of the duplicates queue up and begin an odd procession of absorbing the most injured Jamie amongst them, the duplicate doing the absorbing engaging in a bit of wincing and shoulder rubbing before becoming absorbed himself.

As this goes on in the background, the solitary Jamie slurps calmly on his fresh coffee, calling up the stairs afterwards. "Where in the name of my Aunt Sadie are we, anyways?" He moves to the window, bending the blinds to get a better look outside. "I'm guessing either Metropolis or a backlot set in LA of the new Flash Gordon show..."

Eve Eden has posed:
The question is either not heard, or ignored, or perhaps a little bit of both, as silence rings from the apartment situated above the office space. The walls, for the most part, are bare of most decor - just an official looking detective license in Eve Eden's name can be found, and two 'personal' pictures. One is a picture of Eve smiling to the camera next to a chimp in a gray deerstalker hat and clothing. The other is a more somber Eve standing next to an even more somber gentleman - one that may, perhaps, be recognized as a United States Senator. The books in the shelves are vast and varied, though none are exactly 'revealing' of anything more than a good library of criminal, law and 'true crime' fiction and non-fiction novels.

It takes a good fifteen minutes before Eve finally opens the door and makes her way back down the stairs, casting a quizzical expression to the process of absorbing and recovering of the bullet wound. "Fancy trick." She offers from the top of the staircase, before making her way back down, pouring herself a cup of coffee complete with six creamers and five packets of sugar, before settling into the chair behind her desk, stocking feet, sans boots, kicked up onto her desk.

"So, first question, do you have any enemies that would want to take a pot shot at you, Mr. Madrox?" Eve's fingers wrap about the warm mug of heavily sweetened coffee as she casts her blue eyes towards Jamie the expression on her features set into a neutral articulation.

Jamie Madrox has posed:
Abandoning the scene of the futuristic streetscape that lays beyond the window, Jamie keeps the mug of coffee in one hand, sipping from it idly as he strolls about the rest of the small office, scoping out the photographs, the bookshelf, any magazines next to the client's waiting chairs. It's not long after Eve makes her appearance that the injured duplicates are all but healed, the final Jamie in queue rolling his shoulder back and forth with nary a hitch or grimace of pain and, perhaps oddly, only the faintest of blood splatter stain on his trenchcoat. That Jamie grins to Eve at the comment she makes, quipping back, "It's great for laundry too."

The Jamie with the coffee in his hand remains (slightly) more serious, a minute scowl forming across his lips as to the question of enemies. "Plenty. But none that don't know me well enough not to use an energy blast," he begins. "Or to use something a little more creative like hollow points." A light shudder passes over his frame at that, as if perhaps reliving an unpleasant memory. He turns his attention fully to Eve then, leveling his gaze at her over the rim of his coffee cup as he takes another sip - his own apparently black, straight from the pot. "I could ask the same of you. Occupation aside, given your own abilities, I bet you've probably had your run-in with more than a few would-be killers who have some grievances against you." Jamie exhales briefly, shaking his head. "Not sure if we'll get very far without some research on the gun. Which," he adds, "I *have*, but being as you left that duplicate all the way back in New York, it'll be awhile before he can get here." He pauses just a beat then, before tacking on in a deadpan tone. "I'll be charging you for the Uber."

Eve Eden has posed:
Taking a sip of her coffee, Eve's expression shifts into a wry grin, "If you let me know where he's at, I'll happily take you there, or anywhere. On the planet." There's another almost impish expression that crosses Eve's expression, then. "Without charge." The expression fades, somewhat, as Eve takes in a deep breath, brows furrowing together.

"It is a possibility, I have ... not made many friends in this business, nor my previous job, however, they would all know that I am not easily hurt by means of a bullet. It was a sloppy job, and an amateur way to do it. Either they're trying to get one of our attentions, knowing full well that neither of us are going to be fully harmed through this way, which leaves out many of my enemies. Or." And Eve pauses at this, taking another sip of her coffee before shaking her head. "Or I don't really have an or, I guess there is the possibility they were making a statement."

Biting down on her lower lip, Eve kicks her feet off her desk and sits up right again, "Did the lady you're helping mention anything about having enemies, I mean, I suppose there could be something to do with the case you and I are on?"

Jamie Madrox has posed:
"I'm probably half-way back to my apartment by now," Jamie answers. "Assuming I haven't been accosted by the police or, you know, actually *found* the shooter and am in a fight with him." He pauses at that, a bit of a thoughtful look crossing his features, though the duplicate on the other side of the room chimes in. "Not likely. The link isn't strong but we'd be able to tell *something* was up."

"Yeah, we would," the first Jamie agrees, taking another sip of his coffee before addressing Eve again. "At any rate. We can catch up with me later. I agree that this smacks of an amateur job. I don't know about you, but anyone that I've tangled with in the past who'd want to make any sort of a statement? They'd want me to know it was them. I can't think of anyone who'd be content hiring out a contractor or, heaven forbid, trying the job themselves without a grand announcement and all that."

"I know, right?" the second Jamie contributes. "Oh, look at me, it's the Evil Dr. Megalo-Drama-Queen and I have a severe need for attention!"

The first Jamie shoots his duplicate a brief look that can only be desribed as 'Really?', to which the second Jamie shrugs, and the first Jamie picks back up again. "I didn't get far enough into the case for her to give me any information like that. Just that she felt her husband was going behind her back and she wanted some proof. But it's as good as place to start as any. Ten to one says there's either another player in this game besides the husband and the wife, or one of them has decided to hire out more than just you or me and 'forgot' to let us know."

Eve Eden has posed:
"At this point, Mr. Madrox." Eve states with a bob of her head, "I feel that joining forces will be far better than not. So, ah, basically, I'll tell you my shit, if you tell me yours?" The smile is - once again - an amused expression of delight. "Seems we'll just have to work with each other for a bit, until this is solved, or one of us gets too annoyed with the other." And with that, Eve lifts her mug of coffee upwards in a mock toast. "To working together."