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Thanatos really, to be honest, did not care about the life - or death - of a mere gnome. However, the party was getting repetitive, and there were only so many people he could watch as he walked around with his date, which meant that he was looking for something else to do - helping to solve a mystery sounded like something he could get involved with.

Or rather, it sounded like something that might be entertaining.

In the room, he headed straight towards bookcase 1, more interested in the title of the books than anything else, as he ran his finger along the spine of the books, trying to see if there was anything that might catch his eye.

sn: Dragain

Heidla slid into the room, and looked around. Argh, good, there was a bookcase! There were four of them! Even better!

Her instincts of a death priestess who spent most of her time in the library told her she should check the books first, so she slowly approached the bookcase. Now, shall she look for clues there? Could it be that the victim was reading before death? Or the murderer - before his crime? And what would the book be?...

She approached the last bookcase (4), and touched it gently, careful not to leave too many fingerprints. Not too many shelves (she compared it to the library on the Isle of Death), so they are not extravagant readers, though well... the shelves seemed rather packed. In a moment she was engrossed in reading book titles. Any clues here?

[sn=olwen]

"How is it possible for one to die in Halloweentown?"

By the fireplace, (naturally,) Eris watched the commotion with only moderate interest, molten amber eyes sliding lazily around the room. It wasn't obvious if she was speaking TO someone, or if just commenting in general, although by the looks of it, it was likely the latter. Already she was turning about in place, turning her back on those who had begun to congregate in the room, her eyes wandering down to where the fire crackled contentedly in the hearth. Despite the heat of the roaring flames, the Protector of War stood close to it, far closer than she probably aught to have. But she wasn't afraid of fire -- the blaze was her friend, her eternal companion -- it burned continuously within her. It had scorched her body time and time again, to the point where the skin of her hands was permanently charred black from their constant time in the flames.

Perhaps it was for this reason that she crouched, then, one hand reaching into the cinder, playing with the logs of the fireplace as if, possibly, searching for clues.

"I was under the impression you merely dissipated."

(Directed towards anyone who wants a conversationalist~)

SN: Nata

While LW was pestering Jove (and taking away Ren's phone), Ren had been attempting to get a drink - except apparently he had somehow segued into figuring out what had happened to one of the gnomes who was apparently...dead.

Talk about a mood killer.

"S'a good question," said Ren lightly to Eris, as he idly picked up a small glass object, turning it over in his fingers as he cast a glance over his shoulder at the horseman. "I've dissipated enough times to know that that's quite true."

He shrugged his shoulders, wings ruffling, then settling back against his shoulder blades, his tail curling around one of his legs. "Which brings to mind...what exactly happened here. And, you know, if he's actually dead."


[ kuromizuki ]

The War horsewoman glanced over her shoulder as she heard Ren reply, intrigue evident in her expression. Eyebrows lifting slightly, she cocked her head slightly, watching him play with something small and rather delicate-looking idly. "Does it hurt?" she mused, her attention seeming completely focused on the item in his hand, rather than the freckled student himself, as if staring off into space. "I have always imagined it would hurt, having your body explode into the raw essence of FEAR..."

Letting her words drift off a little, she continued to stare at the object for a few more moments, lost in her own thoughts before flicking her amber regard back to Ren, a slightly unsettling smirk curling the corners of her lips.

"Your wings are lovely~"

Jericho was getting a similar feel there.

He offered the horseman a small, slightly sardonic smile. "It's..unpleasant, to say the least," said Ren lightly, and then shrugged his shoulders again, still turning the glass object over in his hands. He supposed this could have been used as the murder weapon; it was certainly heavy enough, but one could never be certain.

"And yes," said Ren, tail flicking about his ankle now. "It hurts. I think I described it once as going through a blender..."

Which only served to wonder what exactly had happened to the gnome in the room. Ren glanced down at the chalk outline briefly before going back to examining the little glass thing and musing about it. Tilting his head a little, he added, with an easy smile, wings fluttering against his back, "Thank you. Yours, I have to say, are quite impressive. But then, that's to be expected from a Protector of War."

He lifted the glass object. "Got any theories?"