Clothed in our grief

Chapter Seventeen

"Doctor Johnson, what're you making out of all of this?" As awkward as it is to have to hold a laptop to the scene of a crime, The commissioner had to bring in a new detective to work on the current case. Just moved in Gotham City Police Department from the Los Angeles Police Department. Not only that, but she's young. Younger than most detectives he's seen.

She's been assigned with a lab to work on half her new cases, and seeing as her progress is going fairly well? Gordon decided he'd go with her on the newest case called in by the Bat himself. Knowing the caped crusader, he already has an answer as to who did this. Probably why, and who the victim is. But it's more of a test for the blonde detective, as if Gordon's assumptions on her are actually going to be true.

She has blonde hair, it's a shade of gold that comes close to copper when it's in the shade. She wears a black pencil skirt with dark opaque tights, and has a holster not only under the beige trench coat she wears. But one hidden under the skirt, where she can easily get to and hide much more easier if that holster under her jacket it taken away.

She has narrowed blue eyes, like she always seems annoyed or fixated on something much more worthy of her attention. There's red tinges to the corners of her eyes, the raw flesh that shows simple signs of irritation. And it's not springtime in Gotham, so it's obviously not allergies. The dark circles that she's barely tried to cover with concealer and distract with long and dark eyelashes are noticeable to anybody, detective or not.

Despite living in Los Angeles, she has an accent and it's not American. She sounds Bristol, a round english accent. Say's 'Yer' instead of 'Your'. Pronounces her 'Er's' like 'Airs', though something mostly Scottish and Irish people would do. Sounding a little south of Bristol, where one's voice tends to go more on the pirate-y side of things. she's got one of those voices where you want to hear the things she says, the imagine how things would sound in that voice afterwards. Sounding a little like a Newcastle civilian every here and there with different words she'd say. Like it's what she had as a child but spent time in so many other places, to a point where she'd just drop it all together and started picking up a new way of speaking. Less of the geordie accent, but it underlays everything. In other words? She's english, probably drinks tea instead of coffee, and swears like a sailor.

There's a tattoo all along her arm, starting at her wrist and as far as Gordon knows? It stretches across her chest, seeing as it's on both of her arms, left and right. Identical in every detail, dragging from the inside of her arm and wrist. Something like that would be illegal in some states of the united states. Reasons being it would interfere on performance for doctors, when giving shots to the body. Finding the veins on the wrist would be slightly harder, and an easy mistake for accidentally slicing one open if done by somebody who dind't know what they were doing.

"Well, you're shaking the laptop so I can't see very well. What is this, a 2003 webcam someone bought to take a profile picture for MySpace? C'mon Detective, if you're gonna hold it up at least do it right."

Doctor Johnson, he's a Botanist, Forensic Scientist, and a forensic Scientist. In other words? He's good with whats left after the dirt is sifted. Of course, that's what she says. The two don't get along very well, or they do. Sometimes there's moments where the two agree on something, or they just argue as it's their way of quirky conversation. Insults also count for this.

"Sod off, just tell me what this is." She said, with narrowed eyes directed to the small plastic shard in her blue gloved hand. the plasticy latex moving along with her hand, as the material covered it well enough so that she wouldn't contaminate the evidence with her finger prints.