People are gathered in a group around the nearby apartments. Some are
staring, others are crying. Several police units have arrived on the
scene, and although lights are flashing, illuminating the dark, it appears
that the quiet is holding for now. Police move about the scene, muttering
and working, but no sirens are blaring, and no one seems to be in any
particular hurry. 

(OOC) Psycho_Emitter says, "You have been called to investigate the
scene... we'll go from your arrival..." 

Indelicato steps out of his car and closes the door. It makes a metallic
'crump'. His thick black coat is wrapped around him, his badge flopping
from one dark lapel. He exhales sharply, a cloud of vapor dissipating from
his mouth. He approaches the ranking man at the scene, nodding his
greeting. "What do we got, Manciewicz?" 

The officer reports to you, in a nearly monotone voice. "Approximately
2:20 AM we received a 911 call from this woman here, " and he gestures
towards an elderly woman, in her late sixties, "who reported a burglar
climbing up the fire escape. My patrol car was sent to investigate, and I
arrived on the scene around 2:35 AM. I observed a figure atop the
building, running about. I called for backup, and started up the fire
escape, but as I did, she leapt off the building and landed right where
you see her." 

He point to where a small circle of officers surround a body covered by a
sheet. 

Indelicato nods to the elderly woman, flipping through the crime scene log
blankly as the officer speaks. He hands it back as the officer finishes.
"No sign of anyone else up there?" he says, approaching the body. 

The officer shakes his head. "Not a one. Looks like we might just have a
jumper, here. The roof doors were all locked from the inside." He looks
over the detective's shoulder as he heads towards the body and remarks,
"Not a pretty sight." 

Indelicato looks up at the building. "From that height, they never are."
he says, squatting down next to the body, between it and the observers, so
that when he lifts the sheet and peers underneath, the civilians aren't
further shocked and appalled. 

The attending officer makes it a point to move elsewhere, and does his
best to push the crowd back somewhat as the detective moves the sheet back
for a view. 

Indelicato leans his bulky shoulders across, and tilts his head slightly
to look at the place where the victim's face should be, straight on, as if
seeing them on the street. 

A ghastly sight greets you as you enter the police area. The grisly
remains of a young girl, approximately thirteen years in age, lie upon the
pavement. Her head is broken, like an eggshell, with pieces strewn out
from the insides. Her body is twisted and broken, with arms and legs
turned in unusual directions. He clothing is blood-soaked, although you
can barely make out what appears to be a blue pair of shorts with a red
top. She was a brunette, and her hair was curly and shoulder length. A
police scientist is taking samples around the area, and marking with care,
an outline of the body. The paramedics wait patiently nearby, knowing that
their services are not needed at this time. 

Wonder Woman enters Greenwich Village from Soho.
Wonder Woman has arrived.

Police units surround an area near to an apartment building. A small crowd
has gathered, watching in near silence. The area is lit by the flashing
lights as the police mull about trying to do their work. Detective
Indelicato is near to the body, which lies several feet from the base of
the apartments. 

There is a slight gleaming in the air, but not a sound, at least until
some bystanders begin gesturing to the sky. With nary a rustle of the
breeze Diana's form gracefully descends from the sky, her boots leading
like in arrow, though in the darkness, it is the reflection dim
streetlights from her bracers and the golden symbol of her armor that is
first seen. She lilts to the Earth, as one would imagine an angel
descending on graceful wings, her arms outstretched until her soles touch
the earth beneath, and with a slight bend of her knees, she lands just
beyond the police line seperating the crowd from the scene. She says
nothing at first, looking to the detective, and not seeing what it is he
surveys. 

Indelicato puts the sheet back down, and looks around the body slightly,
but then just nods to the police scientist. "Looks like a standard, but
send a few samples over to the Tox boys. Might as well help out the ME a
little in advance. No note?" he says to the officer who was on the
rooftop, but it's not really a question, just confirming it. "What about a
purse?" 

The officer in charge pauses, thinking for a moment. He finally says,
"Y'know, now that you mention it, there wasn't a purse or a note. Now
ain't that peculiar?" He glances about and is momentarily startled by the
appearance of Wonder Woman. 

Indelicato shakes his head sadly. "Nah. Prolly sniffing paint and..." He
looks up from the scene. "Hey, Princess." he says casually. 

The policeman finishes with marking the area around the body, and motions
to the paramedics. They walk over slowly, bringing their body bag and
rolling cart. 

Diana takes a step closer, not yet looking under the tarp so hastily
thrown over a mortal soul, but moving instead toward the
Detective...toward her friend. Her voice when it comes is quiet, solemn,
as if she were at a funeral rather than in the streets of Manhattan,
surrounded by the hubbub of onlookers, the snap of police and civillian
cameras, and the glaring red and blue lights of police cruisers. "What has
happened?" It is a simple question, one whose answer she has already begun
to piece together, yet she still wishes to hear it said.

Indelicato indicates the body. "Suicide." he says awkwardly. "Girl, early
teens." He scratches the back of his head as if about to say something
else, but he stops himself. "She jumped." he adds, as if that was it, but
it clearly wasn't. 

One paramedic lowers the cart while the other unzips the body bag. They
seem almost to be following some ritual, as the lay the body bag next to
the young girl, and begin to remove the sheet. 

Moving slowly, but unhaltingly, she steps over to the body, and kneels
beside it on the hard, cold pavement of an Autumn night. She reaches out
and touches the covering, as if to throw it back, but does not, glancing
up to the paramedics as if to halt them. She says to them, just above a
whisper, "Give me a moment." It is neither question more command. Merely a
statement. 

The two of them look from one to the other, then the heavy set one nods to
her. "Sure. Anything you need." They both head back over to the ambulance,
and each light up cigarettes while they wait. 

Indelicato pauses back behind Wonder Woman. He shoves his hands in the
pockets of his coat. He doesn't look again. He wants to, but he doesn't. 

Diana slowly draws back the sheet, looking to what remains of the woman. 
If she is startled that she has no face remaining, no identifier of her
individuality, she shows it not, nor, in truth, is she surprised. Though
she had never wished wished it, she has seen such on the field of battle,
moreso than she would have liked. Far moreso. What she does not understand
is why someone would do this to themselves, and realizes that it is a
hopelessness that she does not truly wish to know. She stretches the
fingers of a gentle hand to touch the remains of her chest where once a
heart beat strong, and closes her eyes. Her lips move slightly, like those
of a reader still unaccustomed to not pronouncing words aloud, yet nothing
is audible, and the permutations of her lips are not recognizable to any
witness. 

Indelicato murmurs to one of the officers. "Fax in a description and have
it out to the precincts. If any missing persons reports come in..." The
officer nods, understanding. 

As Diana moves the body slightly, a small piece of cardboard falls from
her head. It appears to have been covered over by her hair. Also, a yellow
bird appears to have been painted on her chest, something that was not
visible at first. 

Diana
        Diana is a tall, handsome woman of noble bearing and carriage, but
with a certain quality about her as she apprehends you that is far more
the girl next door than goddess. Her skin is a deep olive tan, like
burnished bronze, her muscles honed to p erfection beneath. Her thick
black hair forms a mane of curls, reaching down to her mid-back, and
tumbling soft as a waterfall over her shoulders. Her eyes are large,
clear, and blue as they look out from beneath her golden tiara, holding
back her hair an d adorning her forehead with a large, red star. In each
ear is a matching red star as an earring, offsetting the redness of her
full lips, seemingly always impressed with a quiet smile. 
        Her armor is simple, covering only her central body. Her red,
stiffened leather bustier rises up to cradle her breasts, emblazoned
across with a pair of golden, metallic 'W's, one atop the other. On each
forearm is a silvered bracer, gleaming of a rgent and flashing in the
light, stretching from elbow to wrist. About her waist is a golden belt, a
pair of points, one rising up over her midriff, the other dipping downward
extending from it. On her left hip, slung from the belt, is her shimmering
gold en lasso. Her tights are dark blue satin, a pair of large white stars
on the front, one on either side. Her long, powerful legs are bare down to
just beneath her knees, where they meet her boots, a deep crimson red,
with white stripe running up from toe t o peak, and forming a rim around
the upper edge. 

Indelicato(#1385Pfces)

        Ed Indelicato is a man in his mid-to-late thirties, with dark hair
that is seemingly permanently uncombed. He has a thick mustache that arcs
downward on his face, and a loose-fitting suit of navy blue. A very slight
paunch pushes his rumpled shirt out over his belt. On the lapel of his
coat is clipped a NYPD identification badge showing that he is an
Inspector. 

Indelicato looked at you.

As Diana's murmured prayer concludes, she moves the sheet partially over
the body again, arraying it as if tucking in a child for an evening's
rest. Once this is complete, she pauses to glance to the paramedics in
attendance, the barest of pauses and the merest of glances. It is then
that she notices the symbol on her chest, and the bit of cardboard. She
says, not looking away, "Detective, I believe that there may be further
evidence which had not caught your attention." 

Indelicato is at her side. "Yeah, well, we usually leave it for the ME's
office, don't want to screw anything up which might be on the clothes..." 
he says this mostly out of rite, not out of defensiveness or
self-consciousness. He just looks at her chest and squats again, touching
the cardboard with the tip of a pen, turning it over, knowing what he'll
find. 

The cardboard is a one-inch strip, about seven inches in length and
painted gold in color. A red star can be plainly seen in the center of the
strip. 

Indelicato doesn't try to hide it. What would be the point? He just rises
and turns away, taking an evidence bag from the scientist. "I'll bag it," 
he says. "But I take it back about the inhalants. Antidepressants, maybe." 
It's like he's trying to do everything but look down at Diana, or at the
body before her. 

Diana's eyes widen slightly, then dull. She has known this before as well. 
It happened once in the past, and Julia had told her that it was not her
fault, that desperate and hopeless people cling to any symbol in easy
reach to protect themselves from the encroaching darkness. Diana did not
enjoy being a symbol, yet she was accustomed to it. Intellectually she
knew that this was the price that she payed for the many lives she touched
positively. All this was intellectual, yet another part of her was moved
in another way, and it in turn moves her hand, which rises in a gentle
motion to touch her own tiara. 

The scientist looks up at the pair and shakes his head rather grimly. He
remarks quietly to them, "For her to have landed where she did, she would
have had to have a good running start. Or have been thrown, perhaps." He
looks down, as if it will help delivering such information.

Indelicato nods to the scientist, sliding the cardboard tiara into the
bag. "You got the photos, right? Just attach that to the report." he says.
"She probably thought Manciewicz was going to try to stop her." 

Indelicato seals up the bag, and initials the seal. These rituals seem
more to ease the mind of the police and the onlookers than to do anything
else. 

The idea that someone would murder someone in this way is too repellant
for Diana to accept, and the hatred involved simply too deep for her to
fathom. She rises, knowing in her own mind what has happened, and looks to
the Detective. Her eyes are moist, not in sorrow for herself, or even for
the tragedy, but for this soul she never got to meet, to know...to save. 
She speaks quietly again, and asks a question most rhetorical, even as she
turns away again, her back to the scene, her peace made with the departed,
"Why?" 

The scientist nods and takes the bag, heading back to his van in relative
silence. The crowd has begun to disperse somewhat, although a few
onlookers hang on, as if they are afraid that they will miss something. 

Indelicato says "Because it's his job to stop h...." Then shuts up. . o O
(That wasn't the question, idiot.) He flushes slightly and indicates to
the paramedics that they should begin. 

The two men crush out their cigarettes and return to their gory detail. 
Pulling back the sheet entirely, they carefully lift the broken child and
slide her into the body bag. With a quick *zip* it is closed, but the
outline remains like some crazy silhouette, with bodily fluids painting
it's gory picture. 

Diana's next thought is for the living. She turns to them, those looking
on, realizing immediately that many of them are, in fact, looking at her.
In most instances she would be self-conscious, but now she was curious,
and in a way that she found troubling. Why were these people here? Why
must such an awesome tragedy as this draw a crowd...to bask in the
darkness? Was this Dionysius in Patriarch's World? Was it merely her
presence? No, they were here when she came. Her last thought to them was a
hope that they were thankful. Thankful for the second chance that this
event represented for any of them experiencing what this poor woman did.
With this last thought, she looks away from them, and back to the
paramedics doing their work, silent all the while. 

Indelicato signs his name to the tag on the bag. There is the FLASH of the
photographer's bulb one last time as it takes a picture of the tag,
Inspector Indelicato turning away already. "Okay." he says. "That's it."
he says to nobody in particular. 

Lifting the body bag onto their cart, the paramedics move on back to their
ambulance in silence. They appear to be in no hurry, as they lift their
cart onto the back of the truck, and close the doors.