AWD #422: A Murder Most Foul
A Murder Most Foul
Summary: Marines and guests get to have a go at deductive reasoning in a more relaxed environment than usual.
Date: 17/02/2016
Related Logs: None
Amos Dreyer Lleufer Elena Randy Niamh Fischer 
Battlestar Orion - Deck 1 - Offices
Except when the gun batteries are firing, the offices aboard the battlestar tend to be a quiet area where sailors and Marines can get their work done as needed. However, there are several closed-door offices, with small windows, lining the walls in addition to unclaimed cubicles that run down the center of the long room. Anyone who has paperwork that they need to do and would prefer to do it someplace quiet can come here at all hours of the day or night to accomplish what they require space and peace to complete.
AWD #422

While the marines usually train in the MOUT room, or killhouse, or even in the wilds of P, today there's a session in an empty office on Deck 1. Well, office is perhaps not quite the term, it looks like it usually functions as some form of meeting room, but for now all the tables have been stacked to the side, and there's a few chairs set against the far bulkhead. There is also the battalions S3, and a small stack of A4 envelopes. As each person enters they are presented with an envelope with their name on it, and instructed not to open them until everyone is here. There are also among the invitees, none marines, just to make things a touch more interesting for all.

Still dressed in his greens, Dreyer is just cycling through the day. In relatively good spirits, at least. Gotta enjoy a day where you're not strictly on MP duty. No guarding a hallway or a crate of unknown contents for him! With a thermos of coffee in his off-hand, the man accepts his envelope with a nod to the S3 before moving off to the side for others to enter. Does he open his envelope? No. Does he look like he desperately wants to? Yes.

Lleufer arrives, also dressed in his greens which is strange for him. Usually he's in MP outfit for his on duty status, or maybe combat kit, or off duty tanks and tags. But greens? Rare for him. That's what he's wearing now. Bruises and bandages are long gone. Ynyr looks his normal fit and healthy except for the new pink skin recently healed around his wrists and upper hands. Like friction burns from straps or something. He accepts an envelope with quiet thanks, gives a faint nod to Dreyer and others, and files on in to wait along with the others.

Elena isn't entirely sure why she was invited, but she's far, far too polite to question anything on this ship right now. She arrives, in her double tanks, red hair in a presentable bun, following instructions dutifully, holding her envelope.

Randy arrives in her greens soon after Dreyer trailing a few other people. As she enters the room, her eyes register the change in how the room is configured, but she doesn't ask anything. She takes her envelope and sighs softly when they're told not to open it. She steps to the side to wait for everyone else, holding her hands in front of her at the wrist. She spots Lleu and nods to him, but mostly keeps to herself for the moment. She's not expecting non-Marines, so she doesn't register Elena's presence right away.

Niamh isn't sure why she was invited either, but hey, she's here! Bouncing in with her usual clumsiness, ricocheting off the hatch and stumbling over her own boots. She's dressed in her amazing orange coveralls, standing out like a beacon of visibility amid the muted greens of the Marines. Her green eyes are scanning the room as a gloved hand drags wayward orange strands of hair back from her face. Dreyer is a familiar face and he gets a cheerful wave as she snatches up an envelope.

Once all the envelopes are handed out Amos turns to address the group as a whole. "Right then Gentlemen. I thought today we might try something a little different. Most of our training focuses on combat situations, but a vital part of a marine's job is also deductive reasoning. Or an MP's job at least." Dreyer and Lleufer get a faint inclination of the head. "As such, I went hunting for a scenario to test your grey matter and found a murder mystery pack someone had clearly acquired on shore leave. In your envelopes you'll find details of your role in this little scenario, and then you're all going to try and deduce who did it, how they did it, and why they did it. One of you is the murderer by the way, and their information will explicitly say that, so if you're in any doubt after reading your information, it isn't you. Are there any questions before I read you the scenario and you open your envelopes?"

There's an upnod in Niamh's direction as she makes her way into the room. Dreyer, however, is angling towards Elena and offering his thermos her way. "Coffee?" But then Amos is speaking and the Sergeant falls silent to focus on the S3. A murder mystery? He manages to just barely *snerk* with a glance to the envelope. "No, sir. No questions."

Randy is given a return faint nod for greeting from Lleufer Ynyr. Then he sees Niamh arrive. Out of instinct, if she comes near him and looks about to bump into anything or trip, he puts out a hand to steady her without thinking about it. He even gives her a faint warm smile for welcome, but says nothing. He's listening to the Captain as Amos gives them their briefing.

Lleufer says, "No questions yet, Sir."

Randy starts to smile a little as the briefing unfolds. Nothing warms Randy's heart like the opportunity to playfully exercise her brain-muscle-thing. She keeps her eyes on Amos, trying to stay in one hundred percent attention mode. "Sounds good so far Sir." She glances down at her envelope between her fingers and taptaps faintly while she waits to be given the go.

Elena blinks in surprise. She nods calmly. Yet another thing she was not expecting on this ship. When she notices Randy, she tries to catch her gaze for a moment and give her a little eyebrow-greeting. She pretends not to see Dreyer.

With no immediate questions forthcoming, Amos nods once, eyes the coffee flask almost longingly, then pulls a folded up piece of paper out of his pocket. Opening it out he clears his throat, then reads, "Welcome to the Caprica Grand Casino. Everyone has gathered in the bar to see the star performer, renowned cabaret singer Rodrigo Hernadez, the finest singer in all of the Colonies." His delivery is dry and he's not hamming it up at all as he continues on, "as the show starts, a gun shot echos throughout the bar. The curtain comes up, and Roderigo goes down. The casino's bar doors slam shit and everyone in the bar is now a suspect." Folding the paper away again he gestures for them to open the envelopes. "Now, you all have to work out how did it, although I'm afraid the information pack doesn't explain why you can't just wait for the police and their forensic unit, but there you go. Once you think you have the who, how, and why, come speak to me."

Niamh takes her envelope and moves away toward Lleufer, but she's of course paying more attention to the envelope and not where she's going. So when she stumbles, and looks up to see the MP's hand coming toward her, she automatically flinches away. Then blinks and offers him a cheerful smile of greeting. Clutching the envelope between both hands and bouncing a little on her toes as she listens to the Captain addressing the group. "Hey." She leans toward Lleu and gives him the half whispered greeting while staring intently down at the package in her hands. Like maybe her eyes can see through the paper.

Having made his way in here as well, Fischer takes the envelope, holding it in one hand as he looks between the others nodding a little at what's said, but otherwise watching a bit thoughtful.

Elena ambles over to Randy. "You know what's awesome? Guns. You know what sucks? That dead singer." She manages to keep a straight face, though she's clearly on the edge of giggles.

More coffee for him. If Dreyer is bothered by this, the man manages not to show it. Rather he moves to one of the tables pushed off and to the side. Thermos is sat down and the man adopts a lean as he opens his envelope and begins reading. With paper held carefully in one hand, he snags the thermos in the other. *Siiiiiip* Just reading over here. Once satisfied, the man returns it to the envelope, folds it in half, and wedges it into a pocket. The Sergeant is not remotely nor nearly an actor so he adopts somewhat a crestfallen expression. So sad over the singer's death.

Niamh is eyed when she flinches and he sure as shit isn't going to touch her if she doesn't need it and doesn't want it. Lleu can respect that. She looks giddy happy to take part though so he smiles a little, then pays attention to Amos. When they are told they may open their envelopes, he does so and reads the bit in there, thinks about it and slips it back in for reference as needed. At once he offers his hand to Niamh, "Hey, did you see that?" He raises his voice, "Did anyone see what happened or where the shot came from?" That first, and keeping tabs on where Amos is to ask questions.

Amos has found himself a chair suspiciously close to Dreyer's thermos and is just starting to make notes on a piece of paper clipped to his clipboard.

Niamh quickly tears open the envelope and reads over whatever's written on the envelope. Her eyes widen, and then she laughs. She can't help it. But quickly does as the others are doing and tucks her paper into a pocket for easy reference. She then triple checks the fastenings on her pockets, before rolling back onto her heels. "Nope… I was jus' sitting over here enjoying my drink. Didn't see anything." She hoists her ever-present bottle of water like it's a beer and takes a swig. The Deckie does look around at the group though, studying their reactions to their papers.

Opening and reading the contents of the envelope, Fischer blinks a few times, reading it again. Grimacing momentarily, he shakes his head, pocketing the contents of the envelope, before he looks around. Shaking his head again at Lleufer's question. "No. Didn't see anything," he replies.

"Yeah, sure. You know what sucks more? Being stuck in this room. Time is money. I don't believe I've made your acquaintance." Randy turns her eyes on Elena. "Did you come for the singing or the gambling or…something else?" She arches her brow. "You know, the sooner we figure this out, the sooner they'll let us get back to the fun." Yep, she's in character. She slips her envelope and paper away into one of her pockets.

"I came for the singer. He's an impersonator and I'm the BIGGEST fan of the… Uh… Guy I forget who he's impersonating." Ellie tries. She always tries. "This guy sucked the last time I saw him and he still sucks now. I mean. He sucked. Now he's dead. Did you see what kind of gun the shooter used?" She leans in toward Randy conspiratorially.

That's Dreyer's thermos. The Sergeant even nudges it a bit closer to himself. "I can't believe this could happen," he finally announces, but there's a look towards Elena and a forced scowl. "I'll have you know I've been working hard with Rodrigo on his voice. Private lessons and everything. I was here tonight to watch him so I'd know what to work on next-" A long, over-dramatic sigh and he's grabbing his thermos to take a long drink. Actor, Dreyer is not, but at least he's trying. Even if he is just sort of standing with crossed arms.

"I came for the singer. He's an impersonator and I'm the BIGGEST fan of the… Uh… Rodrigo." Ellie tries. She always tries. "This guy isn't what he was in his prime. It kind of hurt to see him sucking so bad. Hey, did you see the kind of gun the shooter used?" She leans in toward Randy conspiratorially.

"I did not. I was freshening up with my mirror when it happened." Randy glances over at Dreyer and rolls her eyes. "I don't know why you ever kept with him. He was such…an ungrateful man." A hint of bitterness treads its way into her tone as she speaks about the singer.

Looking around carefully, Fischer mutters something under his breath, before he steps a bit further towards the others, listening a bit thoughtfully. He doesn't say anything right now, looking a bit unsure of what to say or do.

"That's what he sounds like after lessons?" Ellie snaps over to Dreyer. "What, did you have him gargle bleach?" The little ensign puts her hands on her hips cockily. Back to Randy, she grins. "Ooh, that sounds juicy. Dish!"

"Can we look at the singer's body?" Randy is metaphorically poking at the boundaries of the game itself, albeit in a subtle and probably unfortunate way, as it sometimes leads to dim questions. "He was a tease. He asked me to a wedding, so I went, and like any normal girl, I thought, wedding. That's kind of a big deal, but it's also one of those weird deals?" She explains to Elena effortlessly. This ability to come up with BS on the spot seems to be something she's rather good at. "Anyways, I sort of asked him up…and he uh, wasn't having it." She purses her lips slightly and reaches up to tuck her hair behind her ear.

"I was doing my best," Dreyer opines. He's trying to adjust his tone of voice properly, but it just isn't working right. The paper is pulled from his pocket and referenced. The thermos is set down as he takes a — perhaps ill-advised — step from the table after tucking his role sheet away again. "Rodrigo is a really good guy. My wife thought I was wasting my time, but-" the Sergeant shrugs. "Everyone has to start somewhere, right? Charisma's important in a performer and he has… had a lot of that."

At the question about the body Amos pauses in his note taking, considers for a moment then replies, "it's a corpse. Still warm, with what appears to be a single gunshot wound to his chest. He's wearing his stage costume, there's nothing of note on him or in his pockets."

Niamh snorts, hearing Randy's commentary. "That's 'cause he was an asshole. The world is a better place without him in it." She shakes her head and takes another swig of her water, like it's booze or something, muttering something about talentless imbeciles under her breath. The redhead is really trying to put on a good show, but she's not very good at it, if the smile that threatens to burst forth is any indication. At least she's got the drunk part down pat as she tries to move into a better position to observe the room and manages to walk into a chair, giving her leg an audible whack, which prompts her to sit down in said chair, rubbing at the sore spot.

Lleufer perks up, "So, you're married? You are … were, Rodrigo's voice trainer?" This is addressed to Dreyer. He pulls out an actual tiny paper notepad and pencil and scribbles down some notes, "I've been trying to get an interview with Rodrigo for a while now. "I hear he was quite the lady's man, this Rodrigo." He looks pointedly at Randy, "Women always falling all over him."

"Gods. I'm working here darling," Randy offers to Lleufer. "I'm not some groupie looking to waste a retirement at the tables. If he had women, no one was close enough to go with him to that wedding." She glances to Dreyer sidelong.

Elena oozes over to Niamh. She seems to be digging the Caprica sleaze vibe. "So you had a falling out?" she asks, leaning against the table. "Did you see the gun the shooter used? I'm really interested in that part," she asks.

"If he was talentless," Dreyer offers to Niamh, "then why were you even here?!" The Sergeant affects a disdained sniff. But then Lleufer is speaking to him and he's squinting at the notepad. "He's not even in the ground and you're already writing your article?! Yes, I'm married and yes I was his voice trainer. I'm not going to tell you about his love life. That's just…" Anton tries to find a word, shrugs. "It's just wrong. Have some respect for the deceased."

"If anyone saw the gun the shooter used, maybe they saw who he was killed by," comes a quiet comment from Fischer, before he adds, "Which means, if they let the authorities know, we can all head off to somewhere better as soon as possible, right?"

Amos flicks his eyes to Fischer then tears a strip of paper off the bottom of his pad. Writing 'The Authorities' on it, then clips it to the back of his clipboard so they can all see it. Just in case they were confused.

Niamh looks at Elena and shakes her head. "No I didn't see the frakking gun. D'you think I'd still be sitting here if I did? No. I'd be gone." She shakes her head again and looks over to Dreyer, "He didn't have any respect for anyone, you just didn't hang 'round him long enough to stab you in the back." The Tauran's still a bit stilted and not really good at this whole pretend thing, she does look interested in what Lleu's doing, though, being obsessed with her own notebook.

"If anyone saw the gun, then presumably they would have stepped forward already, but they haven't. So either the shooter was seen and is coercing or in cohoots with someone…or, more than likely, no one saw the gun but Rodrigo and the shooter." Randy points out. Then she looks over at Amos' board and shrugs at the words. Then only afterwards does she put it together. "Who was the last to see him alive?"

Lleufer points his pencil at Randy, "Working here? What is it exactly that you /do/, miss… ?" Dreyer gets a smile, "He's a famous, very talented man. Who isn't interested in his love life?" And so his attention lands back on Niamh, "Jilted lover, perhaps?"

"So how about this — everyone submits to a voluntary search and we see who has a gun on them," Ellie suggests, hopping up to sit on the table.

"I hung around him plenty long enough," Dreyer says, voice rising a touch. "It's just like all rising stars. People want to hang on just for the fringe benefits-" A look to Randy, then Niamh. He does gesture towards Elena. "She seems awful interested in the gun. Shouldn't we be more concerned about who did it than what weapon they used? I'd really like to get out of here-" and a look back to Lleufer. "I'll have official statements to prepare, surely." Did Rodrigo have a manager? Seems Anton is assuming not.

"The last one to see him alive? I would think that probably would be the person who shot him?" Fischer remarks, before he looks between the others again, shrugging at Lleufer's words, "Many people probably isn't interested in it," he offers, before he shrugs at Elena. "But the gun could be planted on them?" he offers.

Niamh blinks at Lleu and his suggestion. "Uh… no." She shakes her head though she still blushes, because she's Niamh and although she's not good at pretending, it's still a bit embarrassing for her. "We were friends. 'Til he stabbed me in the back, got me fired from my job 'cause apparently I'm an alcoholic or something and was drinking on the job. So much for being friends." Oh the bitterness! If that isn't motive. "I agree," Her gaze shoots over to Elena and she nods, "Yeah, sure… search away, I got nothing to hide."

"I help some of our most illustrious guests pass the time," Randy says without missing a beat, her chin lifted ever so slightly as she regards Lleufer and then Dreyer. "What we need to-" Randy simply stops talking as Niamh lets all those gems tumble out. "Right. Yes, the killer might be anxious for us to find the gun on someone else…tell me, are you drinking now?" she asks the 'Deckhand.'

Lleufer smiles slyly at Dreyer, "Well, if you are a voice trainer, you might like to answer /my/ curiosity, Sir. I am very well connected in the Entertainment Industry. I'm a man who can get you hired or fired, depending on if you are on my good side or not. You do like working in the entertainment industry, don't you?" This is said low while Lleu watches Dreyer's face. But he also glances to Niamh and Randy, taking notes. "I see. You work here at the Casino?" That's to Randy. And to Niamh, "You worked for Rodrigo himself?"

Moving back to his thermos, Dreyer shrugs and lifts it for a long drink. "If searching everyone will help you feel better, sure." There's a glance back to Lleufer. The Sergeant blinks. Does he like working in the industry? "Maybe after all of this," he finally offers. "I'm still trying to accept that Rodrigo is actually dead."

"I think we should search everyone sooner rather than later, so the killer doesn't have any more chances to do something funny with the gun," Ellie insists firmly. "Come on, line up, if you have nothing to hide, this won't be a big deal." She stands straight, crossing her arms.

"Yes, what have I been telling you man? I come here. I work. I know how what guests want." When Ellie starts to herd people with her instructions, Randy sighs and walks over to hold her arms out. "So who's the one who feels more secure by frisking up their elders?"

<FS3> Lleufer rolls Alertness: Great Success.

Fischer shrugs a little as he listens to what's said, shrugging a little at the mention of lining up, moving over to do so, a bit slowly.

Lleufer isn't lining up, he's asking questions and watching people. He watches Dreyer very closely and then nods, "All right. Maybe a bit later. We can chat." He looks at Fischer and prods his pencil at him, "Who are you? Why are you here, chap?"

"Pft. No. I was part of a different act. Wouldn't work for that … waste of space no matter how much money he offered me." Niamh tries to glare, but fails miserable. "Of course I'm drinking. It's a bar, isn't it? And it's not like I'm working, so of course I'm drinking." She shakes her head and looks over at Elena ordering people to line up to be searched. "Who's going to search her?" Another swig of water.

"Any of you can search me. All of you, if it makes your socks go up and down. Okay, so let's start with… you," Ellie says, pointing at Randy.

There's a gesture towards Elena at her demands. "Why don't you show us what you have, first? I don't think it's right-" Dreyer gestures in turn to Niamh. "Right? Gotta search her, too. Be too easy for a murderer to throw around suspicion so no one looks at them. You can search me, but after she's been searched."

"Wait, what? I came up here to get /cleared/, not put my hands all over these…people. I couldn't. It'd taint my image." Seeing that no one is going for it, Randy's eyes go dull for a moment and then then she shrugs. "Alright fine, if it will get us out of here sooner. More than one person needs to watch everyone else, so no one tries to have us distracted." She steps forward and rolls up her sleeves quickly enough, pushing them to her elbows. "You know, this isn't going to get us anything. If the exercise is about deduction, we need to discover the clues," she says as she steps closer to Elena. She kicks her boot between the other woman's, "Feet a little wider, hands on the wall above your head please."

Lleufer is interested in Niamh, "So what do you do? You know, I hear Rogrido swung both ways. You married? He wasn't sleeping with your husband, was he to get your undies in a twist in addition to the job? I'd be drinking too if he did that to me." Elena gets a raised brow and he makes a few more notes. "It's a waste of time to search each other unless you are going to try to plant it on somebody. Anyone with half a brain would have gotten rid of it, already." But hey, watching Randy frisking Elena might be fun.

Shrugging a little at Lleufer's words, Fischer offers the man a brief grin. "This is a bar, I'm a thirsty person. Doesn't take someone hyper-intelligent to put two and two together, right? The only reason I'm here is that I needed a few drinks to unwind after the latest pyramid game. Helps with a few drinks, and a good night's sleep before one's able to analyze one's performance."

Fischer gets a lifted brow from Lleu. "Pyramid player. Got it. But this is a Casino on a big entertainment night. Try again?"

Another long drink from his thermos and Dreyer watches Randy and Elena. "Y'know, that's quite an intense 'search' method for someone who just… what, entertains people?" He gestures towards Lleufer and then to Randy again. "I think you need to speak to that one there. Something about that story doesn't line up." Hey, he may not be able to act very well, but at least he can notice other things. "That's not the behavior of someone just trying to be 'cleared'."

Elena turns around, hands against the wall. "Go ahead, hookerfriend. Have fun. You ain't gonna find nuthin." Ham ham ham ham, so much ham.

Randy has gotten his attention. Lleu eyes her, "You did admit to working here but not say what precisely you do. So let's have it. You a prostitute? Because you don't strike me as management or security." He smirks like a bastard. He watches Niamh rather closely for her reply with a glance to Fischer.

"With a heart of gold," Randy says deadpan and performs a by the book pat-down. Who knows what's going on in her mind though. She shakes her head, already having established a not so smooth as she likes to think she is worker of the night, she just sticks with it. "You know, for someone who is so aggrieved, you're really suspicious of everyone, directing the investigation we got going here..quietly manipulating everyone." Then she turns a small glare onto Lleu, "No, I didn't. What does it matter what I do? If you already pegged me as not a part of security then why do you need my help? Clearly, we're looking for someone who has access to a gun sweetheart, and that is not me."

"I think he's suspicious because I can't say I've ever seen an… escort pat someone down as if they were the authorities." Dreyer pipes up a bit, stepping away from the table. "And you did say Rodrigo spurned your advances. Something doesn't add up here." He's finished his coffee, alas, so the thermos is left behind.

"Well, maybe I like to burn some of my money with my drinks too," Fischer replies, shrugging again. "Ever felt the thrill of gambling with high stakes? If so, you would know why I came here." He looks between the others. "Usually, when someone asks very many questions, they are usually the ones that has something to hide themselves, you know…"

"Okay, your turn, Jezebel," Ellie says, spinning her finger in the air, indicating it's Randy's turn to assume the position. "See, I had nothing on me. That's one down, right?" She leans against the wall, arms crossed.

"Yeah, because that's a good enough reason for someone like me to kill someone…because they pay and they /don't/ want to fool around." Randy falls quiet and stays quiet in the wake of Fischer's words. "Right, I should have known this was going to happen. Blame the hooker. Have our powers of deduction forced us to travel back in time to some dark age?" She rolls her eyes and puts her hands up on the wall, assuming the position.

Dreyer makes Ynyr snicker. In character at least. Lleu the play actor is rather amused by everyone's rolls they are playing. It's actually nice not to … be himself for a change. He looks back to Elena, "And you are an adoring fan turned sour on our singer. Why are you here again if you think he sucked? You enjoy getting felt up by strangers?"

"Huh?" Niamh blinks at Lleu, then narrows her eyes, trying (and failing) to look offended, or maybe angry, or maybe a bit of both. "No. Not married. And…" She looks around, listening to all the ideas being flung around. "Well, the player has a point about you asking a lot of questions. You do ask /a lot/ of questions." She wags a gloved finger at him, but makes no attempt to move from her chair, or continue that line of thought, her amused eyes travelling around the room, watching everyone else playing their roles as she takes another sip of water.

Elena swiftly pats Randy down. "Do I find anything?" she asks, out of character. She turns to Lleu. "Yeah, he sucks now, but I was hoping he was making a comeback. You know, like any /true/ fan." She waves him over. "Your turn, then?"

"Maybe these ladies weren't as interested in the man as they imply," Dreyer notes as he, too, heads towards the chairs. One a couple seats down from Niamh is claimed. "They both seem rather keen on groping one another and pretending to play cop."

Lleufer looks at Elena, "What? You want me to feel you up again, or you want to feel if this is a roll of quarters in my pants?" He waggles his brows at her, or well tries to. The left side of Ynyr's face doesn't work right so his right brow waggles. That part isn't play acting judging by the gunshot wound scar to the Marine's head. He looks back to Niamh, "I'm a reporter. A top writing for Rolling Meteor Magazine. Entertainment Industry's finest. So naturally I'm very keenly interested in Rodrgio's life and career. And seeing how somebody here tonight shot him, and it wasn't me, naturally I'm interested in finding out more."

"Nope," Randy offers the Nugget before her eyes grow dull at Dreyer's words. "Come on. I already told all of you men like three times in the most polite ways possible. /He/ wasn't interested." She pushes away from the wall as she's cleared, giving Elena more room to conduct more searches. "So, you were /trying/ to help him get better, training him, but he wasn't was he? Returning to his former glory that is?" What does Randy do when she gets restless? Goes hunting..this time, in a metaphorical sense as she zeros in on Dreyer.

"How do we know it wasn't you? You could have been the one who stole my gun. Fine, if you don't want me searching you, have the professional do it. You'll probably have more fun." Ellie swaggers over to Lleu, peering up at him. The normally shy and nervous redhead is having a blast.

Niamh bites her lip giving Lleu a small frown that's /not/ fake. Though it only lasts a brief moment or two before she's back to her smiling self. Well, she's trying really hard not to smile, because theoretical dead man and all that. She's quite happy to sit nice and safe in her chair and drink her water and watch the goings on like she's watching a movie or something.

"He was doing well enough," Dreyer offers to Randy with a shrug, leaning back and crossing one leg over the other. "Can't force the magic, y'know. I was here to see his performance so I'd know what we needed to work o-" but then he's looking in Elena's direction, a brow arching. "Your gun?!"

"Knew something was smelling," Fischer mutters under his breath, before he looks between the others again. "Reporter, huh…" A brief pause, and he looks towards Elena as well, "Your gun, hmmm?" he echoes Dreyer. "Interesting…"

"Yeah, my gun. I'm a collector. Someone stole my piece before the show. That's why I want to see the frakking thing," Ellie replies testily. "And I was searched, I don't have a gun on me. But someone probably does, if we don't see the thing laying around."

"I think it's telling how some people haven't moved from where I first saw them when the gun went off," Randy points out as her eyes graze those who know who they are. "You, who lost your gun. Did someone by offchance run into you before the show?"

Lleufer catches onto something Elena says, "You had a gun in here but somebody took it?" He gives her a funny look, "Why would you ever bring a gun into a Casino?" Hmmm, redhead. He smiles, "Sure you can feel me up if you want to. But I want to see your warrant first. You aren't a cop." His attention goes back to Niamh and he wanders over to lean against the bar and pick her drink up to take a sip of it for himself, "Hmmm, not bad. You didn't answer my question whether you are married or not." By the way he looks her up and down, Lleu tries to make it sleazy though too honest bastard isn't great at play acting sleazy.

<FS3> Lleufer rolls Acting: Failure.

Nearby Niamh, Dreyer crosses his arm as Lleufer approaches. "She said earlier she's not married," the man points out. He looks back to Elena, mouth drawing to the side. "Your gun. Supposedly you… lost it. Seems pretty irresponsible to me."

Elena shakes her head in response to Randy's question, double-checking her sheet. "No, wait, I lost it a week before the show. But it was here, in the casino." She corrects herself. "You're being really evasive," she says to Lleu. "Talking about how it obviously can't be you. You're clean? Prove it. Come on, buddy." She turns to Dreyer. "Hey, I'm a collector. I have tons of guns and I keep them all safely. This one wasn't lost — like, I didn't leave it in the head or anything. It was /stolen/."

Fischer looks to Lleufer again. "What's the matter, reporter? Got something to hide there?" A brief grin is offered, before he looks to Elena again. "You lost it in here, a week ago, you say?"

The Marine trying to pretend to be a reporter looks back to Elena, "You want me to strip?" Lleufer starts unbuttoning his green overshirt for his fatigues and then starts to peel it off, and when it's down to his elbows he rubs his shirt back and forth across his butt cheeks. To Randy he asks, "Am I doing this right? I've never been in a Casino before. You can ask the doorman or the barman. They'll tell you they never saw me in here before. Unlike say, Mr. Pyramid or Miss Lily of the Night."

<FS3> Lleufer rolls Dancing: Good Success.

"Uh… yeah, what he said. I'm not married." Niamh looks at Lleu and can't help the cheerful grin that cross her face, despite her best efforts to keep it under wraps. Even his attempt at leery gets a giggle and a shake of her head. "So obviously, you know someone here in this room, or someone knows you, otherwise they wouldn't know you had guns or where you keep them." Niamh blurts out on Elena's revelation. She blinks. Then blushes and snatches her 'drink' right out of Lleu's hand to hide behind while she regains her composure. Until Lleu starts stripping and then she chokes on the water. Like, literally.

Elena stands there, dumbfounded, jaw hanging slack. Her cheeks burn crimson. "I… uh… do… do you have, like, a gun on you?" she manages to choke out, looking like she wants to hide in a closet forever and die.

Eyes narrowing a bit at the stripping, Fischer shakes his head a little. "Good job in trying to distract people from the fact that it seems to be the first time you're here, and straight away someone gets shot. Unlike those of us who has been here before, with no people dying as a result."

There is actually a glance to Amos and Lleu remembers the Captain /is/ watching their shenanigans. He draws his outer shirt back on over his tanks, "No, I'm not allowed… I'm not carrying a firearm." That's not clear if it's play acting or real. Ynyr sobers up. Even if there's no real alcohol involved. He looks at Fischer, "Oh, so /everyone/ who's never been here is a motive? That's brilliant. Mr. Gambler, are you married?" Ynyr pretends to look for a ring on the man's left hand, "I happen to know that Rodrigo was sleeping around with someone's spouse. That's a real motive. Only," He looks at Randy, "I don't know if he swung for women, or men. He wasn't my type."

"Ugh." This is Dreyer's answer to the stripping. He rolls his eyes and kicks out his legs, slouching in the chair. "Would someone just own up to this? There's funeral arrangements to be made and I'd really rather not be sitting on my ass while poor Rodrigo lies dead. This is getting nowhere."

Randy blinks at Lleu beginning to strip in what she's recognized as an exercise. "I don't think he went for women. I mean…people can say it was /me/, but why would he pay to essentially have a public beard. Nine times out of ten it's the lover, not the working girl who has enough problems of her own.

Elena points to Dreyer. "Searching you next, grumbly. Come on. Show us what you've got." She clears her throat, trying to get her blushing under control.

"No, everyone who's not been in here before doesn't necessarily have motive, but there's still something suspicious about it." Fischer replies, before he shakes his head. "No, not married. How about you?"

The Sergeant shrugs, getting to his feet. He shoves his hands in his pockets and makes his way towards Elena to stop before her. Dreyer just stares at her for a moment before clearing his throat and withdrawing hands from his pockets. "Have at. I have nothing to hide." He does tilt his head in to mutter something to her once she is close, however.

Niamh is back to being silent, still trying to get her breath back from almost choking to death on her water. She takes another sip, eyeing Lleu with equal parts of horror and admiration. After a moment, she drags her eyes away from him and looks around the room. "Uhm…" The Deckie clears her throat, looking like she's going to say something, then changes her mind and falls silent again.

Amos glances up from his notes, well they're probably notes, they might just be doodles, and eyes Niamh. "Do think you've solved it Crewman?"

And there goes the blushing again. Dammit, Dreyer. Ellie gives him a little grin, though, and does a perfunctory search. "Got anything on you?" she asks, looking up at him.

Randy steps back, letting her act fall a little as she looks over to Niamh, considering. She gives the girl space to talk in response to the Captain. She nods her head encouragingly to the Deckhand that's nearby. "Give it a shot."

Niamh blinks at the Captain, then shakes her head, "I uh… don't think so. I was just wondering who knows her," Niamh points at Ellie, "I mean, its her gun that got stolen, and if the killer's in the room, then someone here must know her, or know of her, to know she's got guns. Or, she knows someone here who'd know she's got guns. And maybe the 'theft' was just a convenient cover up for the real reason why the guy is dead. But I don't know what that reason is." There. The Crewman kind of blurts that out, then cringes and hides behind her water bottle again.

Lleufer has gotten quiet, watching Dreyer mumble something to Elena. He watches the others and looks around to see if there is anything to pour himself a drink, coffee or water, "No, I'm not married. Sadly far too celibate." Ynyr tries to give Niamh an encouraging nod. "So we have weapon, that may have belonged to Elena. Who claims it was lost weeks ago. Did you report that to the police? And if not, why?"

"Lost or stolen," Dreyer clarifies over his shoulder to Lleufer. He grins, in turn, to Elena before dropping his arms to his sides. "Not a thing. No gun. And I won't even make crude allusions to what's in my pants like Mr. Reporter over there." A wink for the woman and Anton is making his way back to his chair. "She said lost and then later said stolen," he continues his previous interjection. "As for spouses… I'm married, but as far as I know, Rodrigo wasn't sleeping with my wife. We're still happily wed."
Lleufer whispers: Anybody here wearing a wedding band I could have noticed in character?

"I dunno if it was reported to the police, that wasn't on my paper," Ellie replies lamely to Lleufer. "Why does it matter if people are married? It's kind of a weird, specific question you keep asking everyone." She gives Dreyer a little nod as he walks away.

Lleufer watches Elena and Dreyer, "Why you barely pat him at all, like a blushing virgin. What did he say to you just now?" He looks back to Dreyer, "Have you ever been here before? You seem like maybe you know Elena here, whispering in her ear while she pretended to pat you down, without really searching you at all."

Fischer listens in quiet again, shrugging a little bit. He doesn't seem to have any suggestion about who the murder might be, just listening thoughtfully for now.

"The disgruntled employee worked here and probably has the most motive of all," Randy breaks from her character to point out. "Perhaps the jilted lover jilted in more ways than one." She seems to take the role of influencing when others have already taken the lead. She'll help turn an idea over and over, poking at the holes. "We're doing a lot of questioning based on behavior that's inherent to a game that gives you conflicting motives and artificial barriers. Which, we all know we have to work with," she offers a nod in Amos' direction. "Let's not let the artificial aspects of the game get in the way of what we can establish." Yeah, screw her in-character-ness. This time, it wasn't impulsiveness, but a need to say it. "We need to work as a team, organize the clues, and start making it clearer. Right now our efforts and knowledge are so divided, we're being conquered. Theoretically, this is /solvable/, unless the Captain's run one over on us. This means…theoretically, we have everything we need to solve it."

Elena goes wide-eyed and even redder. "Hey! I didn't even pat you at all! You're not one to, uh… cast that aspersion," she says to Lleu. She presses her lips together, then points to Randy. "Yeah, what she said."

The MP Sergeant that isn't Lleufer clears his throat a bit and holds up a hand. "Out of character here. What I said to Elena was wholly independent of the game. My apologies." Dreyer looks a bit abashed for it. "As for being here before? Of course I have. I try to make all of Rodrigo's performances. I'd be a rather shoddy coach if I hadn't!"

"It's entirely solvable," Amos notes as he taps the pen on the side of the clipboard. "And I think I've heard just about all of the pertinent information being discussed." He offers them all a brief smile then adds, "but then that’s easy for me to say, I've read the answer."

Lleufer gives Dreyer and Elena an upnod, "Duly noted, whisper was done out of character." Smirking to try and indicate he's back in character, "But you have both been here before. Same with Mr. Pyramid, and Miss Lily of the Night. Seems like all of you have been here before, except me."

Still nothing to add, Fischer keeps quiet as he listens now.

Elena points to Fischer. "This one has been really quiet. What's your deal?" she asks, walking over.

"Yeah, but why would you point out that you're an oddball if you're the killer?…well, I guess if you'rea cold-blooded killer you could be insane," Randy reasons aloud and then shakes her head. "So, we know he's not interested in the ladies, but he's interested in seeming like he's interested in them. We know that the highly circumstantial suspected murder weapon is still at large and was /stolen/ weeks ago. We don't really know a whole lot about the relationship between his trainer and him…other than, he seems to have been with him twenty four/seven. And-there she goes," Randy says as Elena beelines for Fischer.
Long distance to Dreyer: Amos eyes Randy's pose, eyes you, eyes Randy's pose. "How can she get all the salient points, and -then- go for the tangent?

Amos checks his watch, checks his notes, then looks up. "Is anyone ready to hazard a guess at who, how, and why yet? You've got all the information you need." And a load that they don't of course.
From afar, Dreyer snerks.

"My deal?" Fischer replies. "Not being able to enjoy my drink, but aside from that, nothing really." It's offered with a brief shrug, before he looks to Amos, shaking his head.

"Well, sir-" Dreyer has settled back in a chair and has one leg crossed over the other, arms folded across his chest. "I have a feeling it may be the reporter here. What better story than to be on the scene when a potentially up-and-coming performer has been killed? I don't know anything about his career, but it could be the big break a fledgling journalist needs."

Elena perks up, Dreyer's theory making sense. "And he started to say he's not allowed to have a gun — maybe for legal reasons? Which could be why he stole my damned gun."
From afar, Dreyer halo.

Niamh just sits quietly, watching the proceedings and sipping her water. She seems to find this whole thing quite entertaining, a small smile playing about her lips, amusement in her green eyes. She's been trying pretty hard up to now, to play her part, but since things seem to possibly be winding down, she lets herself relax a bit, leaning back in her chair and rocking it onto its back legs.

"I think it was Niamh's character. I think it involved an affair, and that Niamh simply stole the gun while still working here. My guess is that Elena's character is simply a regular eccentric who has too much money and spends a lot on guns." Randy shrugs and looks to the Captain after throwing in her theories.
"Making a good target to not notice a gun going 'missing,'" Randy adds.

Lleufer shrugs, "I was still sniffing around Dreyer due to being married but Niamh's character does seem to have motive. Fischer's a gambler who likes to take risks but hasn't made any comments about the deceased like he had any grudges. I don't /actually/ know if my clue is linked to the murderer or is a red herring, Sir."

Amos nods slowly as each person speaks, then considers for a moment, "does the group want to have a couple of minutes to try and come to a consensus on the three questions, or would those who've not given me a who, and how, and a why like to do so individually and we'll see who's closest?"

"I'm going to say it was the Pyramid player." Niamh pipes up, still rocking on her chair, "Because he probably slept with Rodrigo, then Rodrigo tried to blackmail him, because lets face it Rodrigo's a scumbag. The gambler probably found the gun by luck and used it to shoot the entertainer." The Deckie knows she's probably wrong, but hey, she's not actually an MP, so it's okay.

Taking a bit of a breath as he listens, Fischer shakes his head a little. "I… haven't been able to come up with any theory at all," he replies, before he offers a brief grin in Niamh's direction.

Settling in his seat, Dreyer seems content to let the others offer their theories. there's a tilt to his head. Left, right, as he considers it. "That would be a valid reason. If they'd slept together… At this point, the Pyramid player's career might take a bigger hit than Rodrigo's."

"That's also possible, but, I'll stick to mine unless everyone wants to join the bandwagon," Randy offers, even as she concedes the fact that she might be wrong. She looks to the Captain and then back over at Fischer as he admits he hasn't come up with a theory. "Eh, maybe it's just because we stole them all already."

Ynyr leans against the wall and folds his arms across his chest, "I can make guesses, but without actual evidence such as the weapon, prints, strong clear motive, I couldn't possibly make an arrest without orders. It takes time to cross check people to see if something they said was a lie, check alibies, talk to the bar staff and doormen, and by asking suspects over and again to repeat themselves to see if there are variations in their stories. Do background checks, back track people's past whereabouts. Suspicions fine but without proof, asking questions isn't enough yet. Anybody could be lying." So he waits to see what the others and Amos says.

Amos makes a quick note of each trio as they're proposed, and a note of who proposed and supported them. Lleufer gets a sideways look before he closes the folder over his notes so any eagle eyes can't peek. "Very true Sergeant, but that's not what this exercise was about. All the pertinent information was freely available, and no one lied. Interestingly," and this is now to everyone, "no one has correctly solved the case, so can I ask the murder to make themselves known please."

You can't blame the MP for sticking to his training about physical evidence and all the rest of that. It's been drummed into Lleu for years. He doesn't argue though. He refolds his arms over his chest and rolls his head around to pop his neck and waits, listening and looking from one to another. Who was it?

"Well," Dreyer points out to Ynyr, "at least according to my sheet… Any secrets I had can remain secrets, but I'm not allowed to deny them if they come up or I'm asked directly. If it's the same on everyone else's, I'd figure in this game we're not worried about lies. Misdirection, sure, but not outright lies about things like-" Anton waves a hand absently. "…say, being married or not. Or what we have on our person." When Amos calls for the murderer to make themselves known, the Sergeant grunts and pushes to his feet. There's a sort of lopsided grin in the Captain's direction, before he gestures to himself. "Ynyr was right in that someone's spouse was having an affair with Rodrigo. I just happened to be the spouse in question. Rodrigo wanted me to leave my wife, I refused, he threatened to take the affair public so alas- I had to shoot him." A gesture to Elena. "With a gun carelessly left in the bar." BAM.

Niamh lets her chair drop to the ground with a thunk, then she pushes to her feet and moves over to slouch next to Lleu, giving him a grin and offering the water bottle again. Aside from that though, the Tauran looks over the group, waiting for the killer to be revealed. And when Dreyer turns out to be the killer, she just laughs, and shakes her head. "That's brilliant. This was so much fun, we should do it again. Even though I'm a terrible actor…"

Elena points at Dreyer. "You fiend!"

Fischer raises an eyebrow as he hears Dreyer's words. "I wouldn't have managed to guess that," he offers, before he adds, "Well done."

"I was so close!" Randy exclaims, unable to hold back the evidence of how engaged she was. "I actually did think they were the ones having an affair at the beginning. Damnit! Should have trusted my instinct and pursued more questioning," Randy grumbles mostly to herself as she mulls it over. Then she nods to Dreyer. "Yeah your terrible acting threw me off the right trail…well I should say my 'stellar' judgement."

Lleufer pulls a Mal, "Huh." After a second he says, "I suspected you most of all, but … you seemed genuinely remorseful of his death, and seemed to be telling the truth about your wife … " He laughs softly, "Dummy me. I even hit on him preferring men, too. But didn't click to think of you and him being /that/ tight." He shakes his head faintly and is just too traditional that way, "My sheet inferred I'd lie about anything to get what I wanted, or use underhanded means to make people do what I wanted. Only, I couldn't think of anything to do like that." He gives Randy a nod and looks amused.

Hey, if nothing else, the silly exercise finally drew Lleu out to relax and be more normal than he's been lately. Ynyr was actually talking to people and trying to interact.

"Just 'cause my character killed him doesn't mean he didn't truly feel remorseful over his death," Dreyer points out towards Lleufer. "Crimes of passion and all. My guy did it out of what he thought was necessity. Not out of any sort of… dislike of the victim." The young man ambles his way over to his thermos, grabbing it up. There's a glance towards Amos, amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes. "Sir, interesting exercise. Shall we keep an eye out for more of these next time we raid a shopping mall?"

"The only real secret my self in this had was not knowing the rules of the game he plays," Fischer remarks. "Interesting enough, I suppose, but nothing to do with the murder."

"Lovers aren't /tight/," Randy chimes informatively to Lleufer and shoots him a grin. "Well, that probably would have thrown us off further, because of the suspicious behavior." She's not saying it in a condescending manner…she's not an MP, so to her, these are fresh exercises. "Yeah, that was…really fun." She sounds slightly surprised.

Amos pushing himself to his feet and tucking the clipboard under his arm Amos addresses the group. "Thank you to our guests from the Wing, and Deck, I hope you both enjoyed this little exercise. As for the rest of you, it'll be back to standard exercises tomorrow, so make sure you get plenty of rack time." As he has nothing else to say of note he then adds the standard, "dismissed," before turning briefly to Dreyer, "up to you Sergeant, up to you." And with that he ducks out of the hatch, he still has to write up a training report on this after all.

"Thanks for the invitation," Ellie says, pulling her character sheet from her pocket. "I think we all learned something today. If only that certain MPs are better dancers than they look like.

Ah well, it was interesting even if he didn't do too well. At least for a few minutes he got to pretend to be somebody else instead of himself. He smiles a little thingly and then reminded of his terribly dreary day ahead for tomorrow, Ynyr draws a slow breath and steels himself to get back to his own life. Without saying anything else, he heads on out the hatch after Amos to get back to his personal grind.

There's a grin after Amos before Dreyer looks towards Elena. He cants his head towards the hatch. "Up to grabbing a bite to eat? I was going to head to the Mess. See what's left before I hit the hay."

Elena blinks and grins. "Oh, um, sure!" she chirps. "I need to remember to eat more. I've been so busy getting used to everything."

Randy watches Dreyer speak to Amos and then Elena. She doesn't interfere with it all or anything, and doesn't ambush the other two either. It's a quick walk to the hatch and beyond.

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