For the entirity of both Edgar's and Clive's talk, Maël did his best to hold back his urge to cough. He respected Edgar, really, but only for everything that was not related to his habits of teleporting and smoking that wicked weed he did. One day the Sunday Group would burn down not due to alchemistic experiments gone wrong or a Djinn making a house call, but due to the inherently evil spirit of deactivated smoke detectors. Yes, he smoked too -- but in front of the door.

Trying to save the world the printing of a bunch of colored images, he stepped forward and tried to find the blue-ish lines mentioned right as they were being projected onto the wall. Unfortunately though ice-blue on white was not a very good combination by the means of an ordinary beamer. "Well I can't see them, but if you say so I guess they are there, Edgar." And now the tall man coughed, trying to make the best of the disturbance by returning back to his chair and freeing the projection of himself. "While nordic stuff clearly is your profession I feel obliged to add that we should not rule out second- and third-grade possibilities. Someone could have constructed a magically refrigerating sheath for a sword of his imagination which is made of ice. Simply pour some new water into that thing once its product has lost its cutting edge and dump the bloody piece of evidence into your longdrink after you're done and before the police shows up."

Now Maël himself deemed the hypothetical example just given to be quite exaggerated, but he hoped that it delivered the point: There were other posssibilities and one should not close one's eyes to those, particulary not to the combination of magic and machine. Nordic beasts had been catalogued long since, but no catalogue in the world would be capable of holding a record of [i]all[/i] inventions possible if just the human mind's wickedness was allowed to roam freely long enough.

"Judging by the images I'd say that only a small fraction of the victims' bodies has actually been consumed, so this was not done in order to still some hunger but out of either bloodlust or a very artificial desire. What strikes me more however are two things: The presence of a larger body of water in both cases and the fact that Mr. Greg, despite being in very immediate danger, decided to relay his call to 911 through Mrs. Olivia instead of doing it directly, thereby wasting a lot of time. For what ? Men in nice clothes normally don't have that much of a bad reputation that they no longer can call the cops directly. I think we should put our eyes on both the victim's social environment and the pond. If the motive is indeed artificial this might provide more insight."

He sighed. "Even if that includes [i]paperwork[/i]..." Maël couldn't resist the temptation to take a glance over towards their cowboy.

[hider=Summary]Maël pointing out some circumstances not most immediately related to the actual kill and trying to provide a course of action.[/hider]