A curl of smoke exhales out Bobby’s pursed lips and his brows knit together, eyes stuck on the ground. He was thinking, clearly deep on something likely relating to the crime scene from this morning.

The toe of his shoe kicks into the floor and a grunt escapes his throat, “Jesus… t’s so un-fuckin’-clear. ” he understandably complained- the recent scene had been extravagant, dressing the corpse in a certain fashion to… symbolise some shit or whatever.