DECLAN
Declan's gaze flinches at Sunjata's answer, looking back down at the words in the letter. He leaves it then, where he found it, since clearly it was addressed to the governor. There was something oddly personal about all of this. Sure, sending a message like this could've been from some disgruntled person with a grudge, and that could've been anyone. Knowing the sorts that lived in Torchline, he wasn't surprised that Sunjata had a fair bit of enemies. That happens when you become a figurehead.
The letter, though, that's a sign of some deeply personal vendetta. And the writer of it had to have been very fuckin' confident. The notion was enough to chill Declan's own blood, down to his bones, but he didn't reveal this. He merely shed his coat and left it on something nearby, something untouched by blood.
Believe it or not, this isn't his first murder scene- or clean-up. And maybe that's obvious in his unsurprised demeanor, but that's old news...
"Already done 'at, I knew somethin' was off the second I walked in," he made his way over to Sunjata's side brusquely, rolling up his sleeves, "Can't have some half-baked come in and start makin' more of'a mess."
Declan grabbed hold of one of the nails and one of the arms, prying the man free of the wall. Bloody weight befell the pair of them, and Declan hoisted it up as well as he could. "You got a place for our friend here?" He arced narrowed eyes over at Sunjata. Taking it that he was quite shaken from the 'message', Declan rumbled harshly, "Listen, I'll take care of this after we're done here. I got a wagon I can hide him in. Meantime, If y've got a blanket, sheets.. somethin' of the sort. Be kinda obvious if I go walkin' down the street with a body."
He grunted and shifted his weight.
"Unless y're wantin' to go public with 'im?"
The letter, though, that's a sign of some deeply personal vendetta. And the writer of it had to have been very fuckin' confident. The notion was enough to chill Declan's own blood, down to his bones, but he didn't reveal this. He merely shed his coat and left it on something nearby, something untouched by blood.
Believe it or not, this isn't his first murder scene- or clean-up. And maybe that's obvious in his unsurprised demeanor, but that's old news...
"Already done 'at, I knew somethin' was off the second I walked in," he made his way over to Sunjata's side brusquely, rolling up his sleeves, "Can't have some half-baked come in and start makin' more of'a mess."
Declan grabbed hold of one of the nails and one of the arms, prying the man free of the wall. Bloody weight befell the pair of them, and Declan hoisted it up as well as he could. "You got a place for our friend here?" He arced narrowed eyes over at Sunjata. Taking it that he was quite shaken from the 'message', Declan rumbled harshly, "Listen, I'll take care of this after we're done here. I got a wagon I can hide him in. Meantime, If y've got a blanket, sheets.. somethin' of the sort. Be kinda obvious if I go walkin' down the street with a body."
He grunted and shifted his weight.
"Unless y're wantin' to go public with 'im?"
I'm not always good.
