Scene #2618: Polka Mass ft. Harry and Inga

Owner	Pose
Harry Dresden	Cook County doesn't have a morgue any more, and the county coroner is a thing of the past, even before Harry was born. What it does have is a Medical Examiner's office. And what it also has is a night time, assistant coroner who gets to live in the same sorts of conditions that Harry does. In the dark, out at night a lot, and looked down on. Harry pulls up to the back entrance of the office, the Blue Beetle rumbling to a stop. "I really don't know, all Butters said was that he had something I should look at and that it was spooky and that hold on, lemme help." He's already out offerign a hand to his partner, looking out at the roiling storm clouds sweeping in across the vast tracts of corn to the west of Chicago. It's going to be a loud night.
Inga Freyjasdottir	Inga accepts the help out of the Blue Beetle. It's comfortable enough for her but Inga has no idea why Harry stuffs his lanky frame into that tiny metal box. She smoothes her dress--a modest white sundress with a lace overlay, knee length--then pulls he staff from the back. She has all her things in her pouch, the amazing magic of Agartha making it so she can pull just about anything out of there. You know, like goats. She's done it. "Spooky, hmm? Well, we'll see what we can find," she says, then looks over toward the incoming storm clouds. A bright smile appears as she reaches up to touch the hammer pendant. "I do love a thunderstorm--at least when not at sea," she adds. There's probably a story there.
Harry Dresden	Harry snorts and pulls out his little Chicago PD credentials, and clips them to the front of his shirt. "Well, that's there, come on, we're going in the back. And uh, it's very clean in there. Just so you are aware." Before they go in, though, Harry picks up a six pack of Mac's beer from the bonnet of the Beetle, and offers his other hand to Inga. Laching fingers even for a squeeze. Just a date at the morgue. The wizard steps down to the back door, and flips it open to step inside. There's a sleepy looking security guard at the security station, who wakes up enough to spot the giant Wizard and... "Dresden. Who's the lady? Wait, I heard you got a partner or something." Though the question is asked, the fellow is eyeing up the beer more than Inga.
Inga Freyjasdottir	Inga smiles, intertwining fingers. Indeed, a date surrounded by dead bodies. So, business as usual then? Inga looks to the security guard, nodding her head toward him quite formally. She hasn't really mastered the extremely casual manner in which people greet each other these days. "Or something," she answers. "I'm Inga Freyasdottir," she replies, watching his gaze move over the beer with far more interest than she herself. Sigh. Should she be insulted? Tch. "And you are?" Dresden has a badge thingy. Should she have a badge thingy? Hmm.
Harry Dresden	The big fellow grins. "Name's Phil. And good for you. This one needs a nice lady." He's at least looking at Inga at this point, before Harry slides the beer on the man's desk. "It's an Unofficial Visit. I hear Butters has got something for me." Phil snorts and winks at Inga before sliding the beer behind the desk. "Yeah, he's been twitchy and got out the Polka again. Something spooked him. Better get back there." Harry grunts, squeezes Inga's fingers again, and heads down the hall. "Thanks Phil." There were several slabs--I mean, examination rooms--in the morgue--that is, in the Forensic Institute. But the guy Harry was looking for would be in the smallest, crummiest room, the one farthest away from the entrance. And it's from that direction that some muffled polka music can be heard. Harry leads Inga around the corner and down the hall until... The sign on the door reads Waldo Butters and he's playing polka at full volume, the OOOM-PAH rattling the door's handle. Harry gives Inga a look. "Okay, so, Butters is a little jittery, so just... careful, alright? He's a nice guy."
Inga Freyjasdottir	Inga smiles then, nodding to Phil. "Thank you," she says, then grins to Harry. "Am I a nice lady?" she inquires cheekily. "Do enjoy the beer!" she calls back to Phil, following Harry, her staff clacking softly against the floor, echoing down the hall. Not that Butters was likely to hear it over the music. "Polka...?" she asks. Is that what that music is called? It's certainly...it's certainly something. Inga looks up to Harry, raising an eyebrow. "You are concerned he will be frightened of me?" she asks. Inga looks oddly pleased about it. "Don't worry, I will endevour not to scare him."
Harry Dresden	Harry grins a bit. "Just saying... be ready." He clicks the door open and inside... it's a slab. Well, it's a room full of refrigerated places to hold bodies. It smeels clean and strile and not at all like rotting corpses. Might be new for Inga there. It also has the magical feel of a strile place, like... the effort to clean the place reaches a more metaphysical level. The fates of the deceased linger, but are muted by the perfunctory nature of things around here. It's not a mortuary, it's a place of science. It's also a place of NOISE AND 4/4 TIME as a little radio in the corner belts out the finest of The Music Connection if the CD case sitting on the side of the radio is to be believed. The man inside the room is typing away at a computer and engaging in what can be described as a 'full body chair dance', as he swivels and rolls his chair a bit. He's not big, a little on the skinny side, really, but sports a messy shock of hair. Doing reports, it would seem. He only really notices Harry and Inga when thecomputer's monitor flickers and the radio skips a few times. "Harry, three steps to the left please, I don't want to lose this agia-ah! Oh, you.. you brought someone!" Harry sighs, stepping into the room and away from the computer. "Waldo, this is Inga. She's my new-ish partner."
Inga Freyjasdottir	Inga nods to Harry, squaring her shoulders slightly. Always wanting to make a good impression, though she tries not to be /too/ formal, as this is Harry's friend. She doesn't want to put him off. She wants to be liked--be friends perhaps as well. She knows she won't be going back to her own time. Inga's nostrils flare as she enters the remarkable sterile room, the pupils of her eyes dialating slightly as she takes in the lingering echoes of wyrd. Strands that have come to their ends, no longer stretching out in myriad directions...just a tapestry, already woven, complete in this life. The smell is completely strange. There are bodies, but she does not smell them. Very odd indeed. Then Inga looks to Butters. She smiles, her smile genuine. He's got a manic look about him that's charming in its way. So this is Waldo Butters. Inga extends a hand toward him. "A pleasure to meet you. Harry speaks of you often," she comments, talking a little loud to be heard over the music.
Harry Dresden	Harry's eyes widen a bit as Inga extends her hand and... Butters looks at it a moment before taking it in a shake. Like, a real shake. A little bit of a squawk though. "Ah! Hello. Murphy mentioned you. You're a 'witch', right?" The Quote Marks are obvious in his speech though he doesn't say it with any sort of malice. Harry sighs. "Just like I'm a Wizard. You'll have to excuse him, he thinks in Science and magic is an affront to his analysis." "Nooooo. It just can't be quantified and studied like science. And I'll stick to science, thanks. Okay, so." He starts flicking off the radio and the computer and then heads over to one of the drawers. "Okay, so this one is the freaky one. A Miss Jane Doe. Still haven't found anyone matching her in the system, but she doesn't appear to be a vagrant. Still well cared for, so..." A shrug. "Maybe not a local." Miss Doe is a darker skinned lady, looking slightly overweight but well kept, maybe in her late forties, with brown hair and now clouded eyes. The hair and the eyes are sitting next to her, because her head is seperated from the rest of her... by a very clean cut. Precision. Surgical even. The body is very pale, like it's been drained. Butters has got a clip board out and hmmms. "And that's all I'm going to tell you until you get a good exam. Don't want ot spook the results just yet, Mr. Wizard."
Inga Freyjasdottir	Inga takes the hand, grasping it as she looks into Butter's eyes for a moment. Really, she did intend /not/ to alarm him....but as she shakes his hand, her pupils suddenly widen to nearly eclipse the irises, her eyes widening slightly. It passes quickly, but a moment, but her smile changes some from a polite but warm smile, to one in which she is trying to cover sudden amusement. "Yes, I suppose that is what I would be called," she replies, letting go of his hand. Inga takes a steps back, looking toward Harry for a moment, a look of someone gleefully keeping a secret. All amusement fades as the deceases is shown. Down to business, then. Inga's eyes widen, a small intake of breath. Inga has seen plenty of death, but that doesn't make it pleasant. She approaches though, frowning gently, inspecting without touching. Inga has indeed seen death, she may be able to tell if this was done with a weapon more likley used in her own time. "I take it this is an unusual state for a body to be found?" she asks to confirm.
Harry Dresden	Harry's hand squeezes Inga's for a moment. "Thanks for the vote of support, Waldo." And then he's peeking under the sheet on the corpse. She's got the standard Y-incision across her chest and body cavity. No marks or obvious signs of 'i was doing drugs' there. "Mostly yeah. Headless corpses in this office tend to be more... you know. Messy." It's not a weapon she's seen, at least in the pass. It looks as if one swift motion was enough to sever flesh from flesh and head from neck. It also looks like the strike, whatever it was, cleaved the vertabrae right in half as well. Didn't bother to slip between.
Inga Freyjasdottir	Inga sighs quietly, shaking her head. "I know no weapon that cuts so cleanly. Cutting off a head is a very difficult task. It takes a very sharp blade and a great deal of brute force....and it is messy," she replies. Inga looks to Harry then. "Shall I see if I can call her back? Or try to look to her wyrd?" she asks. Or would that qualify as freaking out Butters?
Harry Dresden	Harry... blows out a breath. "See, that's why I bring you around, love. You can do some of the stuff I can't. You know, like properly talk to the dead." Butters lets out a snort at that, but doesn't stop them. Though there's something about this one, now that Inga is close. This was not one who'd been cleaned and scrubbed fresh of her Wyrd. This was something... unresolved. A tingling feeling where her head was supposed to be on her body. Something asking for comfort.
Inga Freyjasdottir	Inga nods. "I could teach you, you know," she says, though she suspects if Harry did some of the things she does he would get himself in even more trouble with the White Counsil. Inga however, has no scruples about using the powers she was taught. Inga moves closer to the body, her frown deepening, brow furrowing in concentration. She reaches out, running her hands an inch or so above the body, letting the energies wash over her. Her eyes glaze, hand hovering hear her neck. "Her spirit is restless. She will wander, seeking comfort or justice...something must be done or her spirit will linger here. She could become draugr," she says quietly. She means zombie, rather than the fishmen draugr found in Kingsmouth. Inga sighs again, shaking her head. "Is it alright then, to call her here? It isn't how it is traditionally done, but I think that I can do it," she asks, looking to Harry then to Butters.
Harry Dresden	Harry's eyes lower a bit, as do Butters. Even among the mundane... calling up the dead is something that isn't done lightly. That said... Butters is the first to break the slience. "People say the examiners can give voice to the dead, but... uh. I'm just gonna not watch if that's okay with you." He turns his back. "Just don't do anything to the body that'll get me in trouble, please." Harry snorts. "It's a long story. Go ahead." Miss Jane Doe lies there, that spirit... maybe aware that someone is here to help. For all the corpse is left dead on this slab, her spirit still remains.
Inga Freyjasdottir	Inga nods to Butters. "I shall not disturb her body," she says, then hands her staff to Harry for a moment so that she can open her pouch and begin to pull out some obects. There are various charms carved into bones, along with a satchel full of herbs and a charcoal tablet. These she hands to Harry, who knows what to do. Inga then moves to set the bone charms around the body, placing what looks like a piece of vertibrae near her neck. Her knife is drawn then and her finger pricked, a symbol drawn in blood on her brow to help open her sight to the spiritual world. If this wasn't enough, well...she would just go there herself. Inga has a seat near the body then, closing her eyes as she begins to chant the spells she was taught to draw up a spirit. It is not a quick process generally, but as the spirit is most certainly lingering nearby, perhaps it will not take long to speak with her.
Harry Dresden	The Sight, as ever, is a tricky thing, no matter what side of Magic you lie on. In Inga's case... it's a slower process than Harry, though nowhere less effective. After a few long moments, the spell takes hold and- In her mind's eye, Inga will see the eyes of that severed head turn back to their original amber, and warily fix themselves on Inga's face. The mouth doesn't move but the voice can be heard. (ohgodohgodohgodohgodimdeadimdeadimdeadohgod) Panic, sheer terror.
Inga Freyjasdottir	Inga, reaches out toward that panic, trying to sooth the woman's spirit with her own. "Yes, you are dead. But death is not the end, and we will help you. We will help you rest and move on to where you go next--to be with your ancestors. You have people waiting for you, waiting to take you into their arms. You do not want to linger here too long--we will help you. This should not have happened to you. We want to give you justice. Can you tell me what happened?" she asks, her voice both soothing and confident. She truly wants to help. She does not want to see this woman turn into the restless dead.
Harry Dresden	The woman's spirit frazzles faintly, almost staticy as she seems to be trying to call up the gausey past behind her, so very far behind her now. "I was... I was in a house, and there was... I was selling the house, I was going to show the house and I... I went downstairs?" The disembodied head seems to shiver, but doesn't actually move. "Where was I? I was... it was wrong..." Dresden and Waldo exchange a glance, and the polka master mumbles. "Are we supposed to be seeing anything?" Harry snorts. "Depends on who's doing this. Not usually in Inga's case."
Inga Freyjasdottir	Unless Inga put the spell on them as well they wouldn't be able to see into the spirit world. It is quite possible they will still shiver as the temperature in the room drops, a certain grave energy whispering through the room. Inga's eyes stay on the woman, listening, projecting comfort. "Can you show me? Give me an address? Any information you give us could mean justice to put your spirit at ease," she replies quietly. Perhaps she should enter the spirit world herself--but that would /really/ freak out poor Butters. "I'm here with you. Soon you will be with the family waiting for you. See if you can remember, then I will help you join them."
Harry Dresden	The woman's brow would furrow if it could. "I... ah... 21? 21st century? Norwood Park? Ahnnng." Existential fear is creeping in again, and the woman seems to be struggling to do... somthing. It's no use though, this shell is far beyond the poor woman's reach. "T-three beds two baths. Lovely... Cape Cod..."
Inga Freyjasdottir	Inga repeats what the woman says quietly, vaguely gesturing toward Harry to write it down. "Good, good. That will help a great deal. We will do out best to see justice done. Rest now. Your family is waiting. I see your grandfather, what a kind smile he has. Do you see him there? Go with him," she urges, trying to guide her toward her rest. She's suffering here, and Inga doesn't want to keep her any longer than necessary. She would also rather not have to exorcise her!
Harry Dresden	Harry pulls out a notepad, scribbling as Inga mumbles the words back... Waldo's eyes widen a bit though and he crosses his arms again. The woman's eyes widen out again and she whimpers thorugh that ghostly voice. "I... oh... Hnnn you... I...." And then, with as little fanfare as neccessary, she's gone. Passed. And then there's a delicate, slow slackening of the tension in the air. Harry looks up at Waldo, and grumbles. "She's a real estate agent and she couldn't be identified?" The examiner looks nervous. "Well, I'm still not convinced this stuff is entirely real. I just wanted to make sure you were, you know. Playing honest." He shuffles a bit, and grumbles, pulling out a thicker folder with a name on it. "Name's Alvira Murray. Police found her in a basement, head slit off after another realtor came by with a tour of the place. SI's kept it quiet at least." He sits down. "The basement didn't have any blood in it, just Miss Murray and her head."
Inga Freyjasdottir	Inga bids the woman farewell, sighing heavily as the spiritual presence leaves. Her shoulders slump as she reaches up to rub at her forehead, smearing the blood drawn symbol to dispell the effects. She sits with her eyes closed for a few moments, breathing in and out deeply, then turns toward Harry and Butters, her gaze no longer far off. She gives Butters a long stare, her mouth curved in a gentle frown. "You doubted me?" she asks, her dark eyes intense and unmoving. At least until she looks to Harry. An eyebrow quirks gently. "Did you get the information? We'll need to investigate the scene. Once there I might be able to get more. An...impression on the spiritual world perhaps," she says, leaning on her staff. "But if there was no blood there...its quite possibile that was not where she was killed. But all she could remember was going into that basement....why would someone clean up the mess but leave the body?" she asks no one in particular. Inga sighs, looking to the body, grey from death and blood loss. "Has anything else turned up that is strange, Mr. Butters?"
Harry Dresden	Butters crosses his arms. "Of course I doubted you. I doubt Harry. Magic isn't real." Harry , but Butters"I mean it's not something that can be measured, not like normal science. And I'm a scientist, sorry." he flips open the folde some more. "Ah, there wasn't any blood on her clothes, which she was wearing. Whatever cut of her head also sliced her necklace apart too. Same very clean cut." He shrugs. "That's abut what we've got. SI still haven't sent everyhting over yet, you'll have to go talk to Murphy."
Inga Freyjasdottir	This is a friend of Harry's. She will not curse him, even though the temptation to is curretly strong. Instead, Inga sighs, shaking her head. "Strange things happen when you think something isn't real," she replies. Inga nods, listening. "Very well, I suppose we will have to speak to Ms. Murphy. I told the woman I would try to see justice done," she responds, looking to Harry. How can Butters doubt magic, knowing Harry!? Tch.
Harry Dresden	Harry sighs. "Yeah we'll go talk to Murph, see what's going on. I just hope this doesn't turn into another goose chase like those damn heckmouths from last year." Butter's is mouthing the word 'Heckmouth' as Harry helpfully slides Miss Muray back into her slab for her final rest. "Come on, Inga, we'll leave Butters to it." The coroner coughs and sighs and murmurs. "Yeah, I'm starting to get that part at least."
Inga Freyjasdottir	Inga nods. "Indeed," she agrees. Inga extends her hand again to Butters. "It was nice meeting you. I hope we meet again without a dead body in the room," she offers.