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"It depends on a number of variables, and elevated temperatures dictate that these variables are not in your favor," Mimsy blurted, her voice still dripping with irritability despite the fact that she was the one interjecting. She might have elaborated that the stench would probably be avoidable if they had no intention of hanging around for several more hours, had she not briefly caught the scent that might have been the topic of discussion.

"If that is emerging from the body, it is not following linear decomposition," she murmured thoughtfully. "Perhaps he was deceased before sustaining the injury."

Today Lawr was getting really great at being late to just about everything. He'd followed the general sound of ruckus with his usual quiet patience and showed up on the scene. Once upon a time he'd have been upset by the sight of a dead body, and certainly had been when they'd found one in the dining room at Wonder Park. Now there was just a sinking twisted feeling when he looked at death, like he was looking at some sort of old acquaintance he really would rather not meet at all.



He suppressed his revulsion and tried to sidle in with the others. Had anyone tried to commune with the spirit? He doubted it.

The body didn't look like it was rotting, which was part of the line of thought that Mimsy should have elaborated upon before. She spent so much time working problems out in her mind that she frequently forgot that not everyone knew what she was referencing.

"My apologies. I did not mean to infer that the body was moved. My intention was to suggest that it was retaining self-propulsion while already dead; however, that contradicts much of what we know about such cases, considering the existence of a body." She shrugged, still trying to remain as vague as possible in the presence of unrelated parties. "I do not claim to know everything about those varieties of circumstances, and am open to correction."

Ofelia had been impressed with everything Lucky said and then someone went off talking about something else. The redhead just looked at them. "Y'all are usin' lots an' lots'a big words Ah don't understand."

The card key was still in her hand because she wasn't really ready to let it go. Blood or not it could be used to try and open different doors on a certain deck 5, right? Also maybe the guards wouldn't notice she had it since there seemed to be more and more of her fellow hunters showing up.

"An' as fer the smell he jus' reminds me'a an undead person? Like a zombie or what not, nottin' super major." As if Ofelia had her share of undead students or something. At the very least though she could say the smell wasn't even something she batted an eye at. "Hahah what if everyone on this ship is really dead ta start wit' an' we're in some kinda trap?"

Okay maybe she shouldn't have laughed at that.

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Lucky acknowledged the newcomers with little more than nods and confused blinks. Mimsy's response had startled him with how uncharacteristic it seemed - when directed toward himself.

"There- there is no picture, I think it is just a name-" He was confused, and it broke his concentration. He couldn't parse it, it could be complete nonsense, or it could have been something relevant he'd missed or not even been informed of. "Vhy do you say there is a kingdom, and green-?"

"Mimsy, our job is to help-" And he still believed it, because he was still just naive enough to still see things through that simplistic black and white lens. But that wasn't what cut him off. It was the phantom feeling of a pair of arms encircling him, like an invisible entity was leaning in close to speak -

< Look, Szczeosny. > Fear was Song's strength. And fear was all around them here, in an ambient spike, like the first few drops of blood in shark-infested water. Just enough to taste. Just enough to motivate her to draw more. The wendigo whispered conspiratorially into his mind. < Look at what happens when you have no use to her any more... >

That's not true... But he couldn't deny the closeness between Mimsy and Kostya in front of him, no matter how he construed it. It wasn't so much how close they were, as it was how far he felt pushed in comparison. As if everything he had done with and for her meant nothing in a moment of actual crisis. He fidgeted under the coat around his shoulders. Maybe- maybe she's been affected by one of those artifacts we're looking for. She isn't making sense.

< I can't stop you from making the same mistake twice. > Song sounded surprisingly confident as she let the subject go, retreating back to a courteous silence. < But at least when it's all over, you'll know I tried, dear, I really did. >

He was alone again, and in desperate need of finishing the sentence he'd started. He hesitated a moment, and then looked away, back to the body and the growing crowd of eager would-be gumshoes. "- but, ah, do not feel obligated to stay."

Tuck rolled in (Nevada in tow) just in time to watch the security guards leave.

He squinted down at the body before glancing around.

"Anyone wanna give me a recap?"

Nevada followed closely behind Tuck, stepping carefull with the other hunters before nodding. "A recap would be refreshing." She ignored the fact that Roland was there and did her best small voice behind Tuck act. She wouldn't draw the mist hunters attention to herself if she didn't make herself worth acknowledging.

Desperate for distraction, he turned back to the crime scene. Something, anything to lock onto and forget all else...

He picked up one of the blood drenched pens with the tips of his fingers in almost a claw-like grip, letting some of the excess drip back down into the pool. This was probably going to be gross, but...

"Can I see your hand?" he asked quickly, flatly, and vaguely of the blonde girl who'd been asking questions. "Dziękuję."

He held Heidi's wrist carefully, and before she could catch on, scribbled a few times with the pen on the back of her hand, in a squiggly, scribbly motion.

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