Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-25151516-20131103145155/@comment-25151516-20131127033846

MacLeod...

"Not now, Áinfean." Revan knocked four times on the door, both shutting out the sad, angry half of him and trying to awaken the sleepy slicer.

On the other side of the city, James Holmes was standing in the morgue, once again. He held what looked like thick, steel claws fitted onto a glove. Three claws were already in place, leaving one slit empty.

A young rookie came in, holding a thick blade, the fourth claw.

"Don't salute," The Detective ordered, taking the blade and examining it.

"Yes, Detective." The young officer responded. After a few moments, he stammered: "S-Sir. About those men the Highlander and the Miss Ripper took down..."

"Make it quick, I need to test something. Your stammering is making it difficult."

"Detective, the're dead. Cyanide."

Holmes stopped what he was doing.