Sitting across from Sphinx while the man was working the slab was always a rare treat. It was for Ash anyway. Then again that might have something to do with a fascination he had with the dead. Death you might say was a specialty of his. The body Sphinx was working on was not the one that Ash had come to see, it was instead the body of a suicide victim with ligature marks like a raised rash around their throat. You might ask why Sphinx was doing an autopsy on the apparent victim of a suicide, but the answer was simple. He did it because it was his job.
Ash and Sphinx had worked together for a long time, and the Ulfric trusted the large brute of a man when it came to the work he did. All around the scent of the dead clung to the place and if it weren't for the equally heavy scent of formaldehyde then his wolf might have found all the proceedings more interesting. As it was the beast had very little interest in these contaminated bodies.
"Same size bite marks as before?" Ash watched the nod of Sphinx's overly large head in response to the question. Sphinx was probing the inside of the dead womans mouth. Assumably for a swollen tongue or marks of irritation from the use of any druygs. It was doubtful he was planning on kissing her.
"So the funeral home wants the body released today?" Giving a shake of his head he looked over at the table where the body he'd come to see was laid out and still encased in a thick black plastic bag. He's had his time to look at it already and find what he needed. The time here with Sphinx was just a bonus. Still he hated how pushy the funeral homes could get. "The families want justice but god forbid they give us more than a day with the victim."
Arms were crossed over his chest as he leaned back in the stool he was sitting on. Sphinx only nodded. The man was even less chatty than Ash which was really saying something. Finally Sphinx extracted his fingers from the womans throat and pulled off his gloves with little sounds of popping rubber. The next thing the man did was reach for the ham sandwich sitting on his desk. Lunch, Ash supposed. Sphinx was the only human he knew who could eat a greasy sandwich while standing over a dead body. Apparently this job had been the mans calling.
They sky had fallen from it's vibrant blue grace into the darkened abyss of the star lit night with the moon hanging overhead like a soft glowing light. The Undertaker was still having trouble getting someone suitable for the day shift at the Funeral Home, and thus did most of the runs at night, when she could actually venture forth.
As always the five-seven South African was clad in black dress slacks, white running sneakers, wide black banded suspenders and a white tank top. Brilliant red hair was braided professionally down her back, leaving her face untainted by strands of crimson temptation so that the splash of soft green became the focal point. Lips were unpainted and kept moist by the swipe of tongue and application of chap stick.
The van was parked around the back and the clipbaord with the release papers were lifted from between the front seats. Donni stepped out of the vehicle and moved toward rear entry point with a pass of her key-card kept clipped with her ID against her left breast. Sneakers made a soft sqeak on the floor with each step of dew-touched soles. Eyes were locked onto the clip-board as she reviewed the bodies to be retreieved.
"One gunner and one choker" She whispered to herself as she neared the exam room to see who it was that was on duty tonight. Donni wasn't as familar with the night crew, the recent change however, meant she was going to.
"I have a lot to do, so if we could jus-" Donavin hadn't learned how to tell one creature from the next yet, her sensory capabilities often left her confused and unable to seporate the smells and sounds well enough to make sense of it. Even so, as she prattled on she found her vocals cut short and eyes pinned on the two males in the room. Why she felt the need to be quiet was beyond her; definatlly not the kind of people she expected to see.