Murder Mystery!

[ZACK CHARMING]

“Move along, people. Move along. Let’s go, this ain’t molecular physics here. Move along.”

Honestly. Whoever had scheduled this dance deserved a pleasant little anaphylactic seizure, with a nice bout of hyperemesis gravidarum on the side. His eyes sidled through the masses of students, scurrying around as aimlessly as a group of termites, with probably half the intelligence. “Please do not loiter in the middle of the gym, people. Let’s go. Get some movement in those quadriceps! That’s a part of the leg, for those of you who are complete and utter muttonheads. Come on, get moving! Get those clues! Burn off some of that cottage cheese!” He nodded at a hefty Heracles-wannabe scurrying past with a clipboard and a magnifying glass. “This academician here is certainly on the right track. Bravo, good sir! Delay the onset of stagnancy-induced tendonitis by a good fifteen years!”

Damnit, he was having an exorbitantly large amount of fun with this. Sure, he could give out this clue thing he was supposed to be distributing at the moment. But what on Earth would compel him to do such a thing? After all, it wasn’t as if he particularly cared for any of them. And anyways, he’d learned through sixteen years of experience that belittling ones cohorts was inordinately more fun than cooperating with them.

He wasn’t even sure why he was directing people away from the center of the gym floor. Perhaps the almighty quintessence known only as the school administration was trying to avoid moshing. Well, that certainly detracted from the solace and tomfoolery of the event. Zack greatly enjoyed mocking perspective moshers as they rolled about the nadir of the premise like fatuous, homosexual infants. In Zack’s humble opinion, his vivacious and peppy remarks added quite a bit of vigor to what was otherwise a rather routine and lackluster affair.

Or perhaps part of this desultory conglomerate was going to involve the center of the gym at some point. In that case, it really would be better to…

Something caught Zack’s eye. A flash of…no, no, it must just be…no, there it was again! Zack tossed his tomfoolery aside and craned his neck towards the opposite corner of the gym. A glint of golden hair in an alcove behind one of the stalls. There it was again, and again…but something was off about the color of the hair, something he couldn’t quite place. What was…blood. Yes, yes, that was it. Blood. Blood stained hair.

Was this part of the mystery? If so, none of the students appeared to have noticed it yet. This could be Zack’s chance. He slipped smoothly out from behind his booth, grasping the first student he saw by the collar. “Yo, watch my booth,” he commanded, dumbing down his language as much as possible. His vocabulary filter was so tight tonight, he was struggling not to choke on his words. Then he began to slip through the crowd.

[CHARLEY HARPER]

Charley was still having trouble registering that she was about to go into a high school dance. And not only was she going to a high school dance, she was going to a high school dance with her hair and makeup done. And not only was she going to a high school dance with her hair and makeup done, she was going to a high school dance with her hair and makeup done in a ball gown.

The circumstances that led to this point were ridiculous. First, that stupid bitch Regan Black told her that she wouldn't dare show up to this thing, and then her father forbid her from going because she never finished organizing his shoe collection. So of course she had to go. Unfortunately, golddigger whore girlfriend caught her getting ready, and insisted that if she was going to sneak out to the dance she at least had to look presentable, and subtly added in that if Charley didn't go along with it, her father would be informed that she was sneaking out. Somehow that led to her hair being put in this stupid bun thing, and she was wearing way too much mascara for her liking. Just as she had convinced whore girlfriend that it was okay if she went to the dance in some business suit she wore for a debate competition once, Zeke had to show up with a freaking ball gown. She had no idea where he got it from or what the hell he was thinking bringing it over there, but whore girlfriend of course flipped out and insisted she wore it.

So after an awkward moment where she couldn't fit into the taxi and about five million stops to pick up the hooker heels whore girlfriend made her wear, she had arrived at the Baum Academy gymnasium. Well, this was going to be a lovely evening.

Zeke of course had to run and do something or other and left her here at the side door looking like an idiot. She had been staring at the door for a good twenty minutes, debating on whether or not to go in. On the plus side, going in would make Regan Black's jaw hit the floor. On the other side, she looked like a total idiot and was going to make a complete fool of herself. So far, the other side was winning. The only thing that was making her continue staring at the door and not run away as fast as she could was the fact that she couldn't run period in these heels. And Zeke had all the money for the cab…damn him and his sneaky ways of knowing her too well.

Dammit, this stupid gardener had been staring at her for the past ten minutes like she was a crazy person. What the hell was that for? He was the one who was gardening during a high school dance. Why was the high school even hiring a gardner this late? Maybe he wasn't a gardner. Maybe he was a rapist. Shit, being raped could seriously mess up her life goals. However, being raped would be a great essay topic…it would make her a shoe-in for Yale. Wait, what was she thinking? It was rape for crying out loud! These shoes were making her go insane. Oh no, did he just wink at her? Shit shit shit…and what was he doing with that shovel? Who shoveled like that? Oh wait…that was definitely not a shovel. Yeah, she was going inside now.

Charley quickly opened the door and shut it behind her as fast as she could. Well, great…she was here. The people looked smaller from up here, and she realized that she was standing at the top of the bleachers. Why would Zeke take her to this door? Did he want her to die a slow painful death tripping down these stair things? Dammit. She took her sweet time getting down the first two steps, trying not to rip the gown with her shoes. She soon got frustrated and stopped for a second to look down at the crowd below her. There were a couple people she recognized, who all looked ridiculous, of course, but there were a lot of kids she didn't know at all. She took a couple more steps down as she examined the crowd. Where was Regan? And more importantly…where was Zeke? She couldn't go through this whole dance without him! She would just be standing in the corner awkwardly the whole time. Not that she was doing much better at the moment, she had spent a good five minutes trying to get down a flight of stairs.

Wait…was that Zack Charming? What the hell was he doing here, didn't he graduate already? Oh right, there was that whole Barrie University shindig going on here. Did that mean that Zack went to Barrie? Well, that was laughable. I mean, Barrie was a good school, but it wasn't Yale by any means. She wondered how he ended up there…not that she'd ever ask him that. Maybe he failed his SATs or something…what was she even thinking, this was Zack. Of course he didn't fail his SATs, he was a freaking genius. A pompous, asshole genius, but a genius nonetheless. He seemed particularly fixated on something in an alcove close to her…huh. Well, she didn't have anything else to do until Zeke decided to show up, so she might as well get in on whatever was going on.

"Going somewhere, Mr. Charming?" She said, trying to sound as confident as she could, which was quite difficult considering her feet were about to fall off from these stupid shoes and all she wanted to do right now was to get out of this stupid gown and go back home and look up some debate topics.

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tag:

[/color] zack!
words:[/b][/color] 990...gahh sorry
outfit:[/b][/color] FINALLY HERE and HERE
notes:[/b][/color] SO EXCITED SO EXCITED SO EXCITED
lyrics:[/b][/color] you've really got a hold on me - the miracles
credit: noa the fantasticamazingnessomg[/size][/center]

[ZACK CHARMING]

Zack jogged quickly across the gym, shoving several picayune underclassmen from his path as he barreled through. High school students. Zack’s eyes surveyed the gym as he leapt nimbly over a set of amplifiers, skimming from a group of ostensibly fashionable young men comparing t-shirts and jeans, presumably to discover whom exactly had managed to find a size of clothing furthest from that he actually wore, to a cluster of screeching monkey-hyena hybrids sprinting through the gymnasium with some sort of cloth trailing from their heads. Zack sighed. What utterly fatuous fiends. And to think that he could be one of them. That he would be one of them, had his fourth grade guidance counselor not been exceptionally credulous and overwhelmingly susceptible to nine-year-old Zack Charming’s rudimentary (by his own standards) rhetoric.

Zack ducked under a number of flagrantly asinine couples until he managed to get a clear view of the yellow flash. And indeed, there it was. A dress flapping in the wind currents, perhaps? Or some trick of the light’s refraction against the gym floor? Or maybe…wait. Was that…no. No, it couldn’t…okay, maybe…but no, no, it couldn’t really…

"Going somewhere, Mr. Charming?"

Zack was yanked from his atypical stupor by what he considered the most appropriately unfamiliar voice in the world. He plastered his idiosyncratic smirk upon his lips and turned.

“My dear Miss Harper.” He annunciated each word as its own dark assertion: clear, concise, and venomous. He made a cursory scan: a strapless white dress that billowed to the floor, bedecked with a profusion of nauseatingly curvaceous flowers. “Are you sure you’re not lost? My understanding is that Dress Like Frosty the Snowman day generally occurs at the Elementary school.” He grinned sadistically. “Though, judging from the demographic to which these gatherings seem to appeal, I can see how one might conceivably mix up the two,” he conceded, glancing sheepishly at his regrettable surroundings.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to examine this…this…”

His voice trailed off. But that couldn’t really be…but what else? After all, this was a murder mystery occasion. Perhaps it was all an elaborate attempt at dark humor. Or perhaps…but no, he couldn’t really be looking at…a corpse?

ATTIRE

[/color] www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=33203548 CREDIT SAM !? of A Changed Hogwarts. Don't remove the credit or I will find you. LYRICS animal i have become - three days grace NOTES YAY EXCITEDWORD COUNT 368 [/center][/size][/blockquote][/blockquote]

[CHARLEY HARPER]

He would bring up the dress, the pompous tool. "Believe it or not, this dress was the product of some very serious blackmail. Why do you even care? Would you prefer me to take it off?" There, that was clever enough. Wait…hold on a second. Did she just say would you prefer me to take it off?!?!? Was she on crack or something? That was absolutely not what she meant in the slightest. "That was not what I…" Who was she kidding, he probably wouldn't even notice how wrong that line could be perceived. He was too interested in…whatever he was interested in.

She tried to hold back a laugh as Zack stumbled over his own words, but a slight giggle managed to come out. What was he so interested in? Probably something stupid, maybe Regan Black had just entered the room wearing only a piece of duct tape. That wouldn't be surprising to her at all. Although that probably wouldn't be a surprise to any citizen of New York City, so that couldn't be it. Whatever, she couldn't let him go without pointing out the hilarious stuttering. "I didn't know you had developed a stutter, Zack. Is Barrie a bit too difficult for you? Or perhaps overwhelming social situations just make that hidden talent pop."

What was he looking at anyways? She turned around as much as she could in the stupid dress and stared in the direction he was looking in. After a couple seconds of seeing nothing but bleachers and some horny students trying to hook up behind a curtain, she saw a flash of red. What was that? It couldn't be…could it? No, her eyes weren't deceiving her. That red puddle was definitely…blood. And it was attached to…no, it couldn't be. But yet, as her eyes squinted to follow the trail of blood again, there was no denying it: it was coming from hair that was only a slight shade darker than her own. There was no way that was real. They were at a murder mystery dance, for christ's sake! It had to be a prop. But why would they hide the murder victim? And wasn't Zeke telling her earlier that the murder victim was a part of some Barrie student's game? So why would they hide another one? The whole thing just wasn't adding up. "Um…are you seeing what I'm seeing?" Unless there was the latest book on molecular biology up there that she had somehow missed, she was assuming this was what was making Zack act like a man possessed.

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tag:

[/color] zack!
words:[/b][/color] 441
outfit:[/b][/color] FINALLY HERE and HERE
notes:[/b][/color] STILL SO EXCITED
lyrics:[/b][/color] you've really got a hold on me - the miracles
credit: noa the fantasticamazingnessomg[/size][/center]

[ZACK CHARMING]

Zack Charming had neither the time nor the inclination to partake in any sort of “murder mystery” at the moment. In fact, the only remotely tangible allurement on his part had been the monetary incentive. Harvard would be approximately four hundred dollars closer once this thrilling fiasco wound down. Whoopee. Break out the party-was that corpse missing a finger? Zack squinted, sidling forward through the crowd.

"Believe it or not, this dress was the product of some very serious blackmail. Why do you even care? Would you prefer me to take it off?"

Was she still talking to him? Zack sighed and turned around again. “Now now Charles,” he replied, speaking slowly as if explaining a spelling word to a rather slow kindergartener. “As is my obligatory ‘college chaperone’ duty, I’m going to request that you keep things PG. Not that I don’t condone the sight of a good-old mammary gland every once in a while, I’m not sure that this-“ He paused. Something smacked him metaphorically in the face. “Wait, blackmail? From whom, exactly?” Something related to that concept was nagging at the back of his mind. What on earth…

"Um…are you seeing what I'm seeing?"

Zack shook his head, pulling himself from his externalized fantasia. “If what you’re seeing is the charming vestige behind that clue stand over there, then I’m seeing exactly what you’re seeing. Otherwise, no. Apologies.”

Goodness gracious, was it still bleeding? Zack began to move forward again, craning his neck to see above the throng of maniacal, rollicking brutes.

- tag : Charley
- notes : SORRY IT’S SHORT, MY COMPUTERS ABOUT TO DIE D:
- words : 259 *fail*
- music : Michael Swaim’s beautiful rapping
- outfit : www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=33203548 - credit : template brought to you by The_Actress. lyrics from icing by charity vance

[CHARLEY HARPER]

Shit, he did notice her horrible mistake. And did he just call her Charles? What was that about? She didn't think they were exactly on nickname basis. But she wasn't about to point that out, it seemed stupid in light of the situation they were currently in. He went on a bit on some joke about being a college chaperone…Charley realized he wasn't going to make this easy for her and tuned out to look for Zeke again. She wanted to yell SAVE ME at the top of her lungs, but that would have made the situation even more awkward than it was currently. She turned back to Zack as he mentioned something about…did he seriously just say mammary gland? Who even said that in casual conversation? Jesus Christ, he hadn't changed a bit since last year.

And he had to top that off by asking about her life like it was the most normal thing in the world. What the fuck was up with him tonight? Charley rolled her eyes and answered him: "From my father's whore girlfriend. And from Zeke Mays as well…he goes to Baum. I don't know if you knew him: tall, longish dark hair, very friendly besides the occasional blackmailing scheme…ring any bells?" Once again, she didn't know why he cared. It wasn't exactly relevant to him.

Zack was still freaking staring at the bloody thing. Charley didn't blame him, it was pretty gruesome. But she was still confused about why he was still talking to her and not checking it out for himself. Maybe he had a fear of blood? She didn't expect that of him, but then again, she really didn't know him at all. Well, if he wasn't going to do it, somebody had to. "I mean, that has to be a prop…right? Well, I'm assuming you wouldn't mind if I checked it out, considering you've been staring at it like a dumbass for the past five minutes instead of investigating it for yourself." She gave Zack a quick smirk as she brushed past him and slowly (damn those stupid heels) headed in the direction of the…whatever it was.

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tag:

[/color] zack!
words:[/b][/color] 357
outfit:[/b][/color] FINALLY HERE and HERE
notes:[/b][/color] short short short short sorryyy!
lyrics:[/b][/color] you've really got a hold on me - the miracles
credit: noa the fantasticamazingnessomg[/size][/center]

[ZACK CHARMING]

Was that body…did it have…was its leg...and hadn’t this been vigorous and fecund five minutes? Zack Charming had, by all elucidations of literalness, spent the past five minutes staring blankly at a dead body.

"I mean, that has to be a prop…right? Well, I'm assuming you wouldn't mind if I checked it out, considering you've been staring at it like a dumbass for the past five minutes instead of investigating it for yourself."

And this scurrilous specimen was not going to let him forget it either. Zack stared after her as she prereginated vehemently towards the present object of his interests, his mind devoid of rational thought. Damnit, and what exactly was his quandary at the moment? What was it about this particular adolescent, obstinate female that somehow impaired his thought process to the point of complete and utter injudiciousness? And of course, here he was, spending even more time mulling over utterly ineffectual problems. He hurried after her.

"From my father's whore girlfriend. And from Zeke Mays as well…he goes to Baum. I don't know if you knew him: tall, longish dark hair, very friendly besides the occasional blackmailing scheme…ring any bells?" she answered, as if in an afterthought, as they reached the body.

“Whore girlfriends and tall, blackmailing boys, eh? My my, Miss Harper, aren’t we heterodox? In any case…”

His voice trailed off as they reached the corpse. . “My goodness. What do we…”

What was it about the combination of the young lady and the dead body that snatched the words from his mouth? Dear dear, he must be getting old. . “This appears awfully real to me,” he commented.

Awfully real. Wow. Irrefutable diagnosis there. Hugh Laurie would be humbled.

Zack knelt next to the body and performed a cursory examination. . “No pulse,” he clarified, trailing his fingers up the victim’s arm. . “But these are certainly veins.” He peeled the eyes open, scanning the assemblage. . “Sclera, choroid, retina,” he counted , ticking them off on his fingers, “macula, fovea, gangs all here.” He snapped his fingers directly in front of the latter, as per the forensics teacher in the class he’d once accidentally attended. . “No blink reflex. If this is a fabrication, it’s quite a grandiose one.”

- tag : Charley
- notes : GAHHH 3 MINUTES TO POST NO TIME TO EDIT SORRYYYY
- words : 385
- music : Michael Swaim’s beautiful rapping
- outfit : www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=33203548 - credit : template brought to you by The_Actress. lyrics from icing by charity vance

[CHARLEY HARPER]

Okay, now Zack had to just be trying to piss her off. What the fuck did heterodox even mean? "Believe it or not, Zack, not all of us have a dictionary in our heads instead of a brain. Would you care to tell me the definition of 'heterodox'?" She wasn't even sure why she cared what it meant, maybe it was because she had no idea what he meant by that statement whatsoever. However, knowing Zack, it was probably an insult. So why did she care? Maybe it was because he was almost…intriguing. Even though he was a total douchebag, he was the one person she couldn't completely figure out. Most people were pretty self-explanatory and easy to read, but Zack wasn't. Charley hated to think that it was because he was, perhaps, smarter than her, but she assumed that that probably was the case. While she was book smart, Zack didn't even need the books…it was like the books were already in his head. He didn't even have to try, and it absolutely infuriated her.

But before she could get any more angry thinking about that topic, they had reached what definitely was…a corpse. Holy shit. She was currently standing next to a corpse in a ball gown with Zack Charming. If somebody had told her at the beginning of the night that this was where she would be, she would have told them they were out of their mind. But here she was…and she didn't even know how to react.

Luckily for her, Zack had made probably the most stupid comment he could have possibly made at the moment, and that gave her brain a kickstart. "No shit, Sherlock. What gave that away? The puddle of blood or the smell of corpse? Surprisingly, I don't think they make that as a perfume." What was up with him tonight? However, it was possible that he'd never seen a corpse before. Actually it was very plausible, few people had. Charley however, clearly recognized the aura that surrounded a newly deceased corpse: and she didn't like reliving the memory.

Oh shit, was Zack actually checking the anatomy of this girl? Had he ever watched CSI? Charley marched over to wear Zack was standing, not really caring about the blood that was probably getting all over the stupid dress. She grabbed his arm and pulled it away from the body as she said, "Jesus Christ, Zack, are you out of your mind? You can't just touch a dead body! You're compromising the evidence!"

[/blockquote][/center]

tag:

[/color] zack!
words:[/b][/color] 432
outfit:[/b][/color] FINALLY HERE and HERE
notes:[/b][/color] i love them so much
lyrics:[/b][/color] you've really got a hold on me - the miracles
credit: noa the fantasticamazingnessomg[/size][/center]

[ZACK CHARMING]

Well well well. Zack Charming had previously associated a number of sensations with this particular event, none of which even remotely resembled affinity. But…corpses. Things were “heating up”, as it were. This could actually get a tad alluring, were he inclined to continue this case study, of sorts. Zack Charming had been born for scenarios such as these. Such conundrums were his element, his titillation. He apotheosized the sensation of a question to which he could not immediately formulate an answer. God, it was just so satiating. And all too sporadic an actuality. If only he could-

"Believe it or not, Zack, not all of us have a dictionary in our heads instead of a brain. Would you care to tell me the definition of 'heterodox'?"

-not have his tasks so asininely interrupted every .0000001 seconds. Goodness gracious, this girl.

Zack shook his head sadly. “Charles, Charles, Charles.” Incidentally, the first mispronunciation of her name had been completely unintentional. But the name had caught on, somewhere in his cerebral cortex. “And to think I had assumed I could toss my vocabulary filter to the winds in conversation with the likes of you. Ah, wistful thinking.” He shrugged, pulling up the last time he’d visited that accursed ‘dictionary.com’. “Heterodox: not in accordance with established and accepted doctrines and/or opinions. Translated for simpletons such as yourself I would…what is it they’re calling it these days? ‘Hipster?’ Now. To return to the more pertinent matter of the ulcerating corpse before us.” Zack began to run his hands along various appendages of the body, searching for hidden clues. Perhaps there would be a mark, a wound, something…

"No shit, Sherlock. What gave that away? The puddle of blood or the smell of corpse? Surprisingly, I don't think they make that as a perfume."

Zack rolled his eyes. Benightedness at its most paramount. “Ah! Blood!” He slapped his forehead sarcastically. “How on earth could I forget? Blood is certainly a universal indicator of all things funerary. Forgive me for my intuitive nature’s anathema that predominantly necessitates my needing a bit more corroboration than a ‘corpse-y smell’ for such a drastic adjudication as death. Incidentally, being a civilian and all, I can’t quite claim that I’ve had an inordinate amount of experience around deceased corpses. Both of which would tend to postulate a more in-depth analysis of such matters.” He returned to his investigation. Certainly there would be some indication…

"Jesus Christ, Zack, are you out of your mind? You can't just touch a dead body! You're compromising the evidence!"

Zack snapped his forearm irritably from her grip, feeling the tingling in his skin. Oh goodness, what had gotten into him? Whatever the…ah, here they were.

“Relax, Miss. Mortician.” He rolled his eyes for the umptillionth time that night, pulling up the corpse’s sleeves. “Take a look at this.”

He indicated the item in question: a crescent-shaped slice directly below the elbow joint, as if a section of the man’s skin had been diligently carved and removed from the body. The wound seemed relatively fresh and, judging from its relatively minute dimensions, not immediately fatal. Still, it could be a clue. “So then, almighty guru of all things forensic, what do you make of this?”

- tag : Charley
- notes : Nyahhh
- words : 537
- music : Michael Swaim’s beautiful rapping
- outfit : www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=33203548 - credit : template brought to you by The_Actress. lyrics from icing by charity vance

[CHARLEY HARPER]

Charley tuned out Zack making fun of her as she examined the body. The man was dressed in a suit, so he had to have been killed sometime during the dance or shortly before the dance, people obviously didn't wander around the gym in suits everyday. She turned her eyes away from the man and looked back at Zack as he finished his speech. Did he just call her hipster? Had he been living in a box his entire life? She was the opposite of hipster. Hipsters were those idiots at Baum who went around wearing glasses without lenses and took pictures of the ceiling on their overly priced cameras. Charley's eyebrows raised as she responded to his entire speech with just the short line, "You think I'm…hipster." She wanted to smack herself as the line blurted out of her mouth. That was the best she could respond with, really? She was just so stunned by the comparison of herself to a hipster that she couldn't say anything else. She would have burst into laughter if she hadn't been standing in front of a dead body.

Great, now Zack was talking about how she didn't know what she was talking about because of…whatever she never understood what he said anyways. She felt he was purposefully picking out the most ridiculous words at this point just to annoy her. Like 'anathema', and 'adjudication'…who said that? And worst of all, he thought she had no idea what she was talking about. No, the worst part was that he assumed she had no idea what she was talking about. He needed to shut his mouth and accept that she had more experience in the subject than he did.

She realized she had been standing in silence for a bit longer than was comfortable, so she put out a snappy "I'm sorry I know what a corpse looks like so I don't have to throughly analyze it." Zack had to be the most ridiculous human being she had ever met in her life, and it took all of her inner strength not to go right up to him and strangle him until his ginormous brain came out of his ears. Plus there was already a corpse right in front of them and she had no desire to add another one to the bunch. Looking at the corpse for this long almost frightened her, because no matter how much she wanted to forget the image, being put in this situation still brought her back to the day when everything changed.

No. She wasn't going to think about that now. She had to forget the past and go back to the matter at hand. The dead man, okay. As much as she hated to admit it, the man, although dead, was…attractive. Or, in more politically correct terms, must have been somewhat good looking when he was living. Of course, when he was lying there right next to Zack, there really was no comparison. Wait…did she actually just think that? Sure, she'd witnessed countless girls throwing themselves at Zack, so he had to be somewhat attractive, but she'd never thought of it in terms of what she herself actually thought. No, she definitely did not think that Zack was attractive, at all. That happened to be the last thing that she thought of him, more appropriate adjectives would be 'conceited,' 'ignorant' or 'big-headed'.

Speaking of Zack, he had just asked her a question. Something about all things forensic and…oh. What the hell was that? It was weird and…weird. There really was no other way to describe it, she'd never seen anything like it. The only thing that popped into her head was that debate she once had to do about the death penalty and serial killers, and how serial killers tended to have a specific signature that they left with their victims. "Um…there's a serial killer around here who really likes moons?" Wow, very scientific, Charley. She wanted to just jump off the alcove right then, she knew Zack was going to give her shit for that. Okay, time to clean up the mess. "I mean, serial killers tend to leave their 'mark' on their victim, it seems like that could be the case here, since the mark looks so deliberate. The most popular motives for serial killers are anger, thrill, financial gain, sex, and attention seeking. See any evidence of that?"

[/blockquote][/center]

tag:

[/color] zack!
words:[/b][/color] 760...gahh
outfit:[/b][/color] FINALLY HERE and HERE
notes:[/b][/color] wayyy too long sorry
lyrics:[/b][/color] you've really got a hold on me - the miracles
credit: noa the fantasticamazingnessomg[/size][/center]

[ZACK CHARMING]

Goodness, this was fun. As much of a fuss as he made, Zack was truly enjoying his banter with this Charley. He’d been her acquaintance for as much as a week, and already she was growing on him. Their interaction had been quite a-

Goodness gracious, what on Earth are you thinking, Zack Charming? Honestly. Himself and his rampant teenage hormones. If only there were a way to suppress such frivolities. He was Zackary Morgan Charming, after all, not a character Secret Life of the Gossip Vampires, or whatever it was they were watching these days. He could not let such things distract him from what truly mattered in his life at the moment. Namely, deducing the events behind this suppurating cadaver.

"You think I'm…hipster."

Zack’s eyes scanned the crescent-slice again. “Miss Harper!” He turned his head ever so slightly towards her. “Congratulations. You are not, in fact, as hard of hearing as your outward appearance of oblivion may indicate.” What was it that adolescents said? Oh…snap?

No, no, that had been a completely virulent statement. “In jest, of course,” he added, ruffling the hair on the man’s skull.

They spent the next few moments in silence, scrutinizing the corpse. Zack began to think how nice it was, the absence of snarky exegeses to which he was forced to devote largely unnecessary stamina to procuring equally snarky replies. And then, of course, she had to burst in again. "I'm sorry I know what a corpse looks like so I don't have to throughly analyze it."

“My my, aren’t we cantankerous this evening?” Zack rolled his eyes. “I’ll take your word on this one. But when this unfortunate man springs up and begins cavorting to a merry Scottish shanty, I’ll certainly be pointing him in your general proclivity.” He glanced at the marking again. “Don’t ever go on House, Charles. You’ll blow his team out of the water with your revolutionary operandi. Though they all are nauseatingly dull-witted. Honestly. It’s never lupus. Never. For heaven’s sake, you're supposed to be a genius. See the patterns.”

He could've spent hours reciting a several-hour dissertation in the intricacies of House, but Charley interrupted mid-lecture. "Um…there's a serial killer around here who really likes moons?" Wow, very scientific, Charley. She wanted to just jump off the alcove right then, she knew Zack was going to give her shit for that. Okay, time to clean up the mess. "I mean, serial killers tend to leave their 'mark' on their victim, it seems like that could be the case here, since the mark looks so deliberate. The most popular motives for serial killers are anger, thrill, financial gain, sex, and attention seeking. See any evidence of that?"

“Serial killer around here who really likes moons.” Zack shook his head for the umpteenth time that night. “My my, Miss Harper, such a deduction. Please, enlighten me as to how-“ He stopped for a second. “Sex.” Yes. Perhaps. “Miss Harper, you’re in on the sex scene here at Baum, I assume.” His fingers scampered up the corpse’s skin again. “Interesting theory. This cut does look awfully deliberate in that it’s completely clean. Look at the surrounding skin. Immaculate. Anyways, have there been any new couples recently? And by that I mean the publicized…hold up.” Zack felt a bump beneath his fingers along the chest. “I feel…take the corpse’s shirt off, Charles.”

- tag : Charley
- notes : SORRY THAT TOOK SO LONG
- words : 548
- music : Michael Swaim’s beautiful rapping
- outfit : www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=33203548 - credit : template brought to you by The_Actress. lyrics from icing by charity vance

[CHARLEY HARPER]

Charley picked at her fingers for a second as Zack continued to insult her about something or other. It was almost getting boring at this point, he wasn't even thinking of anything original anymore. Seriously, 'outward appearance of oblivion'? He'd had to have said something along those lines about five times last year. But wait…did he just apologize? That was definitely new. Was there something about the corpse that was somehow making him less of a complete asshole? Jeez, in that case she should just forget about solving the murder and just tie the corpse around Zack's leg and just have him perpetually drag it around. Maybe he'd adopt a stray cat or start working at a soup kitchen or something. She laughed out loud for a second, the image of Zack spooning out soup to a homeless man with a corpse tied around his leg was just too good.

She was pulled away from her train of thought as Zack mentioned a familiar television show. "You watch House?" Charley was surprised, Zack didn't seem like the type of person who would watch the show, or television at all…he seemed like much more of a book person. As for herself, Charley secretly loved the show. Even though it was full of medical errors, she continued watching it secretly every week. It was like a game to her, she would try to figure out what the disease was before House did, and when she got it wrong she would try to figure out what medical impossibilities the show made up just to add drama. "Did you see that episode in season six where House deduced that the guy had a Berry aneurysm? The whole thing was ridiculous. Berry aneurysms can be inherited, but five generations of patients with an aneurysm at the identical location in the brain — out of all the arteries in the brain — growing at an identical rate? Impossible." She knew that was a bit random, but she just had to bring it up.

He did catch the moon thing, fantastic. But, of course, he listened to the list she mentioned afterwards and pointed out sex. Stupid teenage boys, thinking about sex 24/7. She did some research for a debate once and found out that teenage boys thought about sex every 20 seconds or something like that. It was ridiculous, almost as ridiculous as the thought that Zack fit into the mold of a regular teenage boy. Wait, if teenage boys thought about sex every 20 seconds, and Zack had only been with her and a corpse for the past ten minutes, that means…oh god. He was a necrophiliac. It all made sense now: why he was so secretive about seeing a dead body, why he insisted on touching it when they first got here, why he was now slowly running his fingers over the dead man's chest…shit shit shit. Okay, stay calm. She was probably overreacting, what were the chances that Zack was actually a necrophiliac? No matter how much the pieces added up, she had to ignore them for now until she had solid proof. There, now Zack was talking about something legitimate and scientific. He was just being thorough, that's all. He was saying nothing that implied that…

"I feel…take the corpse's shirt off, Charles."

Oh no. No no no no no. He could do whatever freaky shit he wanted in private, but he was not going to drag her into it. She took a couple steps backward, as she softly muttered, "Excuse me?"

[/blockquote][/center]

tag:

[/color] zack!
words:[/b][/color] 608
outfit:[/b][/color] FINALLY HERE and HERE
notes:[/b][/color] i literally copied and pasted that berry aneurysm stuff from
some random house medical website, so sorry if it's way wrong
lyrics:[/b][/color] you've really got a hold on me - the miracles
credit: noa the fantasticamazingnessomg[/size][/center]

[ZACK CHARMING]

Zack felt as if the pieces of a puzzle were finally clicking into place. Goodness gracious, this was all coming together for him. He hadn’t been this intellectually stimulated by a puzzle in years, even counting that particularly noteworthy occasion last year upon which he’d rewired Baum Academy’s mainframe in order to access a particularly irksome fellow calculus student’s grades. He’d quite enjoyed that particular occurrence, actually. It really would be within his best interests to frequent crime scenes more often, if only to ingest the given intimations and attempt to reach an elucidation of his own. A more exhilarating activity than Algebra homework, certainly. Perhaps it would be a bit like watching House, except that the professionals solving the cases would presumably harbor more common sense than, say, three-year-olds, coma patients, and avocados.

"You watch House?"

Charles watched House? Zack wondered if she felt the same discomfiture as he did when watching the sophomoric doctors go about their platitudinous days. “I do, in fact. I actually wrote one of my papers for my incongruous Organic Chemistry class on the fact that the Berry An-“

"Did you see that episode in season six where House deduced that the guy had a Berry aneurysm? The whole thing was ridiculous. Berry aneurysms can be inherited, but five generations of patients with an aneurysm at the identical location in the brain — out of all the arteries in the brain — growing at an identical rate? Impossible."

Zack clapped his hands in agreement. “Yes. Yes. Yes, exactly, precisely. A preposterous conclusion that even the most jejune of medical professionals would discard instantly. I mean, exaggeration of the truth is all well and good, but these writers really must learn where to draw the line. Honestly, I thought I was the only one who…” Yes. Well, you’re obviously not the only one. Goodness gracious, the detritus that was coming out of his mouth today. “I’ve always been irked by the episode dealing with Bulimia Nervosa…thirteen, of some season. The fact that Pulmonary Adema was diagnosed and treated when it was abundantly clear from the chest pain, hiccups, and shortness of breath, that the patient had a Pleural Effusion. Boy did that anger me. And the fact that Dr. House is the only physician to notice the patient’s slash marks? Or the paralyzed vocal chords? A competent McDonalds worker could have noticed those symptoms, let alone a professional physician.”

Wow. Had he truly just spilled so much of his inner feelings to this…female? Feelings about a television show, but feelings that he wouldn’t necessarily divulge to others regardless. Something about Charley just seemed to put him at ease, to make the feelings release themselves. It was quite…

No. He couldn’t let himself get distracted. He had a puzzle to solve.

"Excuse me?"

“Ah, is Miss. Forensic scientist feeling squeamish? There’s a bump under the shirt, something protruding. Now, were we on CSI, that asinine drama, I would think the next logical step would be to remove said shirt and identify the obstacle, wouldn’t you?”

- tag : Charley
- notes : SOURCEY SOURCE SOURCE
- words : 512
- music : Michael Swaim’s beautiful rapping
- outfit : www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=33203548 - credit : template brought to you by The_Actress. lyrics from icing by charity vance

[CHARLEY HARPER]

Zack couldn't be a necrophiliac. She had to stop over-thinking all the time. The problem with constantly challenging her mind was the fact that whenever she was faced with a problem she tended to over-think the potential outcomes. Of course, this skill was very useful in debate, when she could think of every possible response her competitor could say, but not very useful in situations like this. Zack was acting completely normal, or as normal as Zack could be. She also knew that the Zack she remembered would know the risks of necrophilia and wouldn't be idiotic enough to attempt it, especially in front of a witness…okay, so she'd keep the thought in the back of her mind. But she had to stop thinking so much about it, especially when Zack was actually talking about something she could understand.

She wasn't used to having a conversation with Zack where they actually agreed on something. In fact, she wasn't that used to having a conversation with rarely anyone where they agreed on something, especially something that was this specific. It was weird, Zack was almost treating her like they were on the same intelligence level, or if not that, at least in the same playing field. Did it really take him this long and one House reference to figure that out? She looked back down at him, and saw a slight smile on his face. Weird, Charley was sure she'd never seen Zack smile…at least, not sincerely. Mostly he had that cocky grin, but this was different.

She suddenly got a weird feeling in her stomach. It wasn't nervousness, she knew that feeling all too well. It had some similarities, though. It reminded her of the feeling she got before a big debate competition, but it wasn't excitement. It was shorter, more like a quick burst than a long, drawn out panic. It felt almost…jittery, in a way. However, almost as soon as it came, it disappeared. How strange.

She blinked a couple of times as if that would make the strange feeling never return, and then finally responded,"Yes, I remember that episode, and agree completely that it was particularly frustrating, especially the fact that the animation made it clear that the fluid was inside the lungs, so treating it with chest tubes wouldn't have done anything. It was absurd, especially since I'm not even going into medicine and even I know the difference between a Pulmonary Edema and a Pleural Effusion and could easily spot that mistake. Also, do the writers even know how a transplant list works? In that same episode, as soon as House puts the patient on the transplant list she automatically gets the new heart she needs. What kind of a world are they living in? You can't just say 'Hey, my patient needs a heart' and the heart just suddenly appears. Being on a transplant list is a long and painful process that usually takes months, if not years. Plus, that whole episode mostly revolved around some petty drama between the different characters. Who cares about their problems? House is supposed to be a medical drama, not a soap opera." Wow, where did all that come from? It was like all of the things she had always wanted to yell at the writers of that show just came pouring out. She didn't even have to worry about dumbing it down like she had to do when Golddigging Whore once made her explain an episode. It was almost…nice.

No. Stop thinking that. Conversing with Zack was not nice. Especially when he was teasing her about being squeamish when he was the one who refused to think reasonably about the situation whatsoever. "Yes, that would be the next step, but the smart way to go about this would be to use gloves or…" Damn it, what was the point. He obviously wasn't going to conduct this investigation professionally, so she might as well go along with it. If he was a necrophiliac, there just wouldn't be a bump and she'd know for sure. She slowly bent down (stupid dress) and started to lift the shirt up.

Wow, Zack was right: there was a giant…bump. It looked more like a tumor than a bump, actually. It had to be the size of her fist. Okay, maybe not that big, but around that size. What in the world could have caused that sort of…thing? Okay, she had to go back into her head to think this through. She for sure studied something like this in Physics. Except it was a much less…gruesome example, to say the least. However, the same logic could be applied to this situation. "Well, this kind of injury is similar to being struck by a blunt object…" She paused for a second, taking sudden notice that their faces were a bit too close for comfort. Damn it, there was that stomach feeling again. What was that? She wasn't sure if she liked it or not, but it worried her that she couldn't place what it was. She looked down and bit her lip for a second, maybe if she ignored it it would go away, "um…one that was probably a couple pounds that could be swung at a high velocity." Damn, it was still there. What was going on, and why wasn't that stupid feeling disappearing? It was distracting.

[/blockquote][/center]

tag:

[/color] zack!
words:[/b][/color] 913...whoops.
outfit:[/b][/color] FINALLY HERE and HERE
notes:[/b][/color] same source as the one you posted above plus my father.
also, charley doesn't know how to describe butterflies
in her stomach awwww. AND FINALLY, SO EXCITED.
lyrics:[/b][/color] you've really got a hold on me - the miracles
credit: noa the fantasticamazingnessomg[/size][/center]

[ZACK CHARMING]

Zack watched as Charley diligently moved through the appropriate operandi, scuffling over the corpse and shuffling through various crime scene investigation procedures. He made a valiant attempt to view this young woman with the utmost respect, an iconoclast of the generation’s teenage stereotypes, a brilliant mind of transcendental intelligence (save his own, of course). He made a herculean effort to view Miss Harper as a role model, someone to watch and observe, with an attitude towards science, logic, and critical thinking that Zack could certainly do to emulate. He tried to see her as simply a woman with an incredibly capable mind, quite deserving of Zack’s approbation, admiration even.

And yet, he couldn’t focus himself on her efforts as a thinker. His asinine pubescent hormones would not allow him to look at Charley Harper objectively. Instead, he stared at the young woman-girl, really-who pursed her lips in concentration as she no doubt rifled through the foundation of information she no doubt housed in her mind, and couldn’t wrap his mind around any coherent notion except the notion of how absolutely pulchritudinous she looked tonight. The lights of the dance floor reflected off of her blonde hair, illuminating her face like a halo above the head of an angel. Her smile as she immersed herself in her work had a radiance of its own, and her eyes glinted like two jewels in a...

”Yes, I remember that episode, and agree completely that it was particularly frustrating, especially the fact that the animation made it clear that the fluid was inside the lungs, so treating it with chest tubes wouldn't have done anything. It was absurd, especially since I'm not even going into medicine and even I know the difference between a Pulmonary Edema and a Pleural Effusion and could easily spot that mistake. Also, do the writers even know how a transplant list works? In that same episode, as soon as House puts the patient on the transplant list she automatically gets the new heart she needs. What kind of a world are they living in? You can't just say 'Hey, my patient needs a heart' and the heart just suddenly appears. Being on a transplant list is a long and painful process that usually takes months, if not years. Plus, that whole episode mostly revolved around some petty drama between the different characters. Who cares about their problems? House is supposed to be a medical drama, not a soap opera."

House. Right. Yes. Good. An alteration of subject was exactly what he needed at the moment. What on Earth had gotten into him today? “Yes. Yes, exactly.” He jumped eagerly to agree with her. Everything she said was so…veracious. He swallowed her words like a child swallowing popcorn. Where had this sort of clear and crisp logic been for Zack’s entire life? “An absolutely rudimentary mistake. The reputable doctors as Gregory House and his team present themselves to be should have had absolutely no problem.” Oh, dear, the transplant list. Zack could go on for multiple hours about the unfathomable atrocities of Dr. House’s transplant list. “You would think that the almighty Dr. House were sprouting spare organs out of his eyes, given the frequency with which he manages to come by them for his patients. And goodness, I agree wholeheartedly. Sixty to seventy percent of every episode is wasted in innocuous banter. I mean, honestly, I am less than callous in respect to the frivolous love affairs between Dr. House and miscellaneous women. I’d much rather glimpse the medical procedures of Princeton Plainsboro. Much more intellectually titillating, if completely erroneous in a number of ways. If I’m looking for a childish soap opera, I’ll certainly watch a childish soap opera.”

“Yes, that would be the next step, but the smart way to go about this would be to use gloves or…"

“Gloves. Right. Yes.” Zack didn’t have any gloves and he didn’t particularly care. He just wanted to keep hearing that voice, that sharp, tinkling, beautiful-

"Well, this kind of injury is similar to being struck by a blunt object…" She paused for a second, taking sudden notice that their faces were a bit too close for comfort. Damn it, there was that stomach feeling again. What was that? She wasn't sure if she liked it or not, but it worried her that she couldn't place what it was. She looked down and bit her lip for a second, maybe if she ignored it it would go away, "um…one that was probably a couple pounds that could be swung at a high velocity."

“Indeed…the symptoms certainly…” They leaned over the body together, and Zack became uncannily aware of Charley’s proximity to him. “A blunt object at high velocity…” she was really close to him, “a chair, for instance…” he was really close to her, “perhaps a classroom chair…” he could feel her breath on his cheek, “in fact, if you look at this protrusion from a certain angle, it’s shaped exactly like the legs of those oddly-shaped chairs in the Debate Room…” it smelled like peppermints and butterscotch, “which can probably lead us to conclude…” he felt his face flushing, though that may have been from the bright lights directly above them, “that the barrage took place in the Debate Room…”

He was losing his train of thought. Zack felt his muscles seizing control, obtaining a mind of their own: he felt himself leaning forward, he felt his lips pressing against hers, and before he could wrap his mind around the situation his surroundings had disappeared completely, and he was utterly and hopelessly entangled in everything beautiful that was Charley Harper.

- tag : Charley
- notes : I'M SOOOOORRYYYY THIS TOOK SO LONG I HOPE THIS POST IS WORTH IT
- words : 956
- music : Michael Swaim’s beautiful rapping
- outfit : www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=33203548 - credit : template brought to you by The_Actress. lyrics from icing by charity vance