Who: Phoenix Schwartz & Adrienne O'Carroll "Rowan Stark" What: Digging the knife in deeper Where: The police station where Phoenix is being held in NY When: Early Monday, September 18th 2017 Warnings: None, probably, except maybe mentions of murder
Adrienne was pleased with herself. So far, everything had gone exactly according to plan without a single set back. She'd managed to kill the poor sap with ease, and in the process frame her idiot cousin for his murder without Phoenix suspecting a thing, at least not before it was too late. If he suspected her for foul play now, it didn't matter. He had no proof. All the evidence was already stacked against him, not her. If he tried to insist that his most recent conquest had been killed by someone else who had somehow entered the apartment after he left, unseen and left no traces of their own DNA behind while plenty of his was found instead, well, who would actually believe that? Phoenix couldn't accuse her openly even if he wanted to, not unless he wanted to get into why exactly he thought she was responsible. These days, admitting to reincarnation out in the open like that was almost always a guaranteed trip to the psych ward. Sorry, Phoenix. Better luck next time.
She could have left it there. She could have happily chosen to walk away instead, to just sit back and watch Phoenix rot behind bars for hopefully what would be the rest of his days if things turned out the way she hoped, however long or short 'the rest of his days' ended up being. She could have at least waited until she got bored enough to kill him while he was still a sitting duck in prison. She could have moved on to her next project, but the thing was, she just hadn't fully scratched that itch yet. The itch to completely implode Phoenix's life beyond recognition. To keep hacking away at him, piece by piece, until she broke him. There was just something about him and Sirius Black that really got under their skin in the worst way, made her obsess, made her want to go to extraordinary lengths just to insure his continued suffering. It was a lot of effort to devote to just one person, but then, Adrienne had always been impressively spiteful and single minded to those who crossed her.
Getting into the police station was easy. She was wearing Rowan's face again, so no one even questioned her as she walked back to the interrogation rooms. First she'd made sure that the real Officer Stark had been called away on something that couldn't wait, just so the real Rowan wouldn't happen to walk into the room at the most inconvenient moment. She'd overheard enough to know that Phoenix hadn't been charged yet, but he was likely about to be. With that much evidence stacked against you right out of the gate, it didn't leave room for many questions as to whether or not you were guilty. He'd already been held for a little over twenty-four hours, so it was only a matter of time. Apparently, his better half hadn't actually managed go see the mangy mutt in cuffs yet, so her timing was perfect. She would get in there and crush his spirit before he could blink.
It had taken very little time to master Rowan's general mannerisms. She disliked this body, whether that was simply because she was more comfortable in her own than a man's, or because it was a body that had been polluted by Lycanthropy. Either way, she wasn't exactly happy about it, but she was at least not ungrateful for the opportunities this body had given her thus far. Rowan was Phoenix's partner, and a fellow police officer, so no one would think to deny him the chance to see Phoenix, now that his fate was all but sealed and it was only a matter of minutes before he was likely hauled off to a cell until a trial could be scheduled. She slipped quietly into the room where Phoenix was being held, nodding to the officer at the door before they left to give the two of them some privacy. Once the door behind them was closed, Adrienne turned to face her poor, condemned 'cousin', being mindful of the posture she was holding to match the body she was currently inhabiting, as well as making sure to plaster a look on her face that was less gleeful and more broken up.
When she spoke, her voice was deep and masculine, still strange to her ears in comparison to her own, but it's not like anyone else would know the difference. "We only have a few minutes."