ArchivedLogs:Vignette - Jurisdiction

Vignette - Jurisdiction
Dramatis Personae Carnage('s corpse), & friends.
In Absentia	2013-03-15 '
Location Forensics lab, Office of the Chief Medical Examiner
Somewhere tucked away in a basement of OCME's headquarters, Andrea Hearns is not having a good time. She's been working this job for a long time. She's seen a lot of things. But the strange bloody /thing/ on her autopsy table is giving her a moment of pause anyway. She has her gloves on, her tools at hand, her recorder all set for note-taking, but after that she is just eyeing the -- person? Monster? Blob of red jello? -- with a weary sort of expression. She's not /displeased/ when the page comes down to the room, interrupting her -- well, her procrastination. There's a short exchange, and then she's stepping away from the table as the door opens, nodding a quick greeting to her supervisor. Her supervisor doesn't come alone. There's a trio of men with him, and though they are all dressed neatly plain in khakis, polos -- unassuming! -- their carriage tells a different story. Straight-backed, efficient, an economy of motion and force of presence that suggests military. They give her only curt nods before two head straight for the table, one of them unlatching a briefcase in his hands as he goes. Andrea gives her supervisor a quizzical look. He raises his hands, somewhat defensively, somewhat in surrender. "It's out of our hands," he says, "this freak is going federal." This would normally be a source of contention, really. There has been many a turf war in these very offices over jurisdiction. But he's taking one look at the mess on the table, one look at the weary reluctance in Andrea's face, and, well, their credentials were all in order and it's not a fight he cares to fight, today. "We not the only place this thing hit?" Andrea doesn't sound surprised. Curious, more. What does surprise her, though, is when the man takes a syringe out of his briefcase. Injecting the (dead? It was definitely dead, right?) body with a heavy dose of /something/ before the third man approaches. He has a large metal /box/ -- somewhat coffin-like, save for its heavy construction and -- Wait. He didn't have a box a moment ago, did he? Andrea is staring at this, confused, even as the men don gloves to half carry, half scoop the body into the box. Lock it up securely. The third man takes the container, nudges it away from himself; it slips away into nothingness, like disappearing into a cubby of thin air. The men are polite, as they thank the pair and head back out. Andrea's supervisor is looking equally bemused, before pinching at the bridge of his nose. "Guess there's noone better to deal with a freak than --" His head shakes. "Probably so." Andrea is turning back already to straighten her things. There are more cases to handle. Besides, this is New York. It might not even be the strangest thing she'll see this week.