Legal Issues- The Sheriff and the Jailor

In which Jerimiah decides who to investigate tonight

This is his third damn time in a row being some kind of law enforcement and he was rather sick of it.

 'That damn town is the last thing I'd want to work for if I had a choice. Especially not the fucking investigative roles.'

If he had a choice, he'd be neutral killings. The power of being a Serial Killer! The joy of igniting as an arsonist! The sheer emotion and primal strength of a werewolf!

Even being a damn Jester would be better than being a sheriff again.

But, whatever really. When you've been through the town as many times as he had, you got used to having bad jobs.

He threw on a hide vest, pants, and boots (complete with spurs, for if a riot ever broke out and he had to get people to back off), and dropped a 10 gallon hat on his head.

He unconsiously did all this and cringed when he realized that he matched his outfit and role.

He decided in between incarnations that it'd be best if he had spontaneous forms and, lo behold, this purgatory shit on him by handing him the damn cowboy combo.

He tried dragging his feet outside, except his spurs caught on his shag carpeting and he started lifting his feet higher than normal instead. He was the first one in the center in the morning. His status forced him to do things like wake up at ungodly hours and stay up until almost the same time he woke.

If the mayor asked him to become more thorough in his interrogation at night, he'd run in to himself getting up in the morning.

He threw himself on the sidewalk in front of his home and watched the sky change colors.

Another shit day (Week. Month.) in this fucking purgatory that he still can't find a solution to.

Well, this poor little guy's stuck here for a reason.

So's everyone else in Salem.

Listen, sometimes there's a reason sometimes that there's signs all over an area telling you not to go in.

The issue with Salem was a sort of curse around it due to that damn witch. It was a petty reason too.

She wasn't allowed to live in the town back when it was being built for being a witch. Simple as that. Fair too, in my opinion.

So she threw a fit, planted some Morning Glory and Mayflower, and activated them through the very process that the town disowned her for. The flowers and magic entrapped their souls, keeping them in a cycle of chaos and unable to stop or leave.

You couldn't even try and get close externally to dig up the flowers, only someone close to the witch could get past the signs and sawhorses the other towns learned to put up overtime. Plus, if you were a random person trying to meddle with the flowers, you got dragged down to the Salem pit.

The witch herself dove in to watch her wonderful curse go down and, sadly, got her soul wrapped up in it too, unable to give up, forced to keep playing a shitty game about neighborly violence.

It sucked ass. It's been almost 250 years and it's gotten to a point where they get to lay around in a weird state as souls as another team messes around.

Someone exited their home and hooted a yawn. Sheriff looked in their noisy direction at a typical member.

Jerimiah stood up, clipping himself on his spurs. He wondered around boredly through the meeting. Sometimes answering something someone asked or kicking a passing frog.

Town Caller sat themselves in their high seat to watch the town's going-ons.

Everyone else came out over time in various states of wakefulness.

Someone named McDonald revealed themselves as the mayor less than 10 minutes within the official beginning of the meeting.

"Ok, guys, that means you all have to listen to me!"

Sheriff groaned. McDonald was already approaching them. Probably to ask if they're the sheriff, just because of his outfit, like a damn noob.

Well, he'd be right, but it'd be a dick move.

 "So," stage-whispered the mayor, "you're the sheriff riiiiiiiight?

"Sheriff nodded. At least five others in town knew his role now.

"Nice!" They were hopping now. "Let's get to work then!"

They were so fucking enthusiastic it was almost cute. 

"I want you to investigate." They stopped to look around. Stopped on everyone with a special skin.

Sheriff scanned over them too. Mostly normies, a Firebug and a Dexter flirting and whispering to each other, and a Warden, sitting alone, covering their ears.

Covering their ears.

All alone.

Sheriff frowned at that. They'd have to be checked soon. Probably just a Jester, but still.

McDonald saw them too.

"Them! That freak over there!"

Sheriff nodded. Mayor could get their ass beat in a second if Jerimiah were to disobey.

"I'll do it tonight little dude. Run off and talk to the others now."

Mayor skipped away to join the crowd. The Sheriff laughed at their joy. It was refreshing to see new souls running around sometimes.

Well, first off in finding the weird Warden's role, they'd go directly to them and ask what they are.

They were turned to the aisle between the houses, gripping their elbows and shaking gently.

Jerimiah placed his hand on the person's shoulder. The shaking stopped, at least.

He shook his hand since he didn't turn around.

"Ey, pal, you all good?"

It seemed like there was only them in the world. It was a terrifying feeling, the worst Jer had ever felt in his time in Salem. And he'd been burned alive before.

Warden whipped around, panting, crying. 

'Why are they so scared?'

"Wh-what," They quietly said in a hushed voice.