#autopsy

[tec-a0l]

coroner’s office photo log for d&e

note: when “ ” is used in this log, it indicates the info/location is the same as the line above (ie. “ ” lower = left side lower, since the previous entry was left side upper)

these two logs of the photos taken during eric & dylan’s respective autopsies at the jefferson county coroner’s office on 4/23/99 were included in one of the evidence reports, and i transcribed the handwriting for easier readability.

from my understanding, this is fairly standard (if not required) protocol when a violent death occurs—the report details the locations and subjects of each photograph, along with noting what sort of evidence is being documented and whether it was taken of a suspect (S) or victim (V).

[jareckiworld]

Rudolf Němec (1936-2015) — An Autopsy [oil on canvas, 1967]

[icarussinclair]

I love hands.

[irie-kun306]

Severus Snape's body was taken and cleaned for autopsy, the wound made by Nagini was so fatal that it could not be stitched up, but.... For some reason Severus wake up.

[deanclitoris]

[whywouldisayprinter]

He moved into my brain some weeks ago (without telling me) and is now refusing to pay rent, help

[incubaus]

[weirdlookindog]

André Hofer (1890–1973) - Don Andréa Vésalius, l'anatomiste

illustration from 'Oeuvres complètes de Pétrus Borel', 1922

source

[thatsbelievable]

[asphyxiating-endless-darkness]

Autopsy

Posted by Black Deaths Nostalgia

[hungryunity]

— transautopsy ;; a term for an individual who has experienced an autopsy .

[aloysiavirgata]

Skinner POV on post-S5 MSR. I trust this to no hands but yours, empress.

It was in Baltimore. Kidnapping victim, some Congressman’s girlfriend dredged from the Harbor and up they all went, silent and shifty in a big Bureau Suburban.

***

He’s been touching Scully obscenely for years, Mulder has, but what’s always shocked Skinner is that Scully lets him. Her femme-fatale looks and her clear willingness to pistol whip the disrespectful have left him a bit at sea with her tolerance for Mulder’s wayward hands and gazes.

Mulder, like a half-trained Weimaraner. Mulder endlessly sprawling and sniffing and hunting and brilliant and exhausting.

Scully, like a tortoiseshell cat. Scully with half-lidded topaz eyes and eternal, quiet patience.

***

They’re dockside at the USS Constellation, Scully squinting with her hand curved along her brow. Mulder’s obnoxious black Burberry trench flapping like some kind of bespoke fruit bat. Mulder’s rich-kid arrogance.

Scully crouches over the weighted net the girl was wrapped in. There’s a clump of hair snarled in the mesh; it has been cut away to release the body. The girl floats upwards like a mermaid in a nightmare, crab-gnawed and a marbled green.

Mulder wrinkles his nose.

Scully’s hair more stylish now, Scully’s suits trimmer and her blouses more fitted. Everything about her is sleeker and shinier and more polished. She is beautiful, astonishingly beautiful, and it startles him sometimes that she should choose such a small life. That she should choose Mulder, frankly.

Mulder kneels beside her like a dark guardian angel. He skims a hand over her head nearly too fast to see. He thumbs her scrimshaw clavicles, her fine jaw.

Skinner knows, in an abstract sense, that Mulder is beautiful too; that Scully is justified. He still, in his deepest heart, does not feel that Mulder is justified.

He’d traded himself for her life that once because he was a Marine, because she is a rare creature, because he and Mulder had made her thus. Because, on more than one lonely night, he’d flashed on her white throat and bee-stung mouth behind his clenched lids.

Shamed, looks away from them, into the west.

***

He’s in love with Scully in a chivalric way. He’d lay his coat over a mud puddle for her ridiculous shoes. He’d challenge someone to a duel for her honor. But he couldn’t do what Mulder does; he couldn’t love her properly while she weeps and bleeds and dies of a thousand tiny cuts.

Couldn’t bury her daughter and keep sane.

Scully sighs, thumbs half a Subway bag from the corpse’s melting face.

***

The ME’s office at Penn and Pratt, because rank beats jurisdiction, because Skinner commandeered the decomp room when Scully asked. Scully’s regal face like the prow of that ship, Scully’s hair like Diogenes’s lantern.

Her hands like pale garden spiders moving lightly over the body, her steady voice speaking as he and Mulder watched and listened.

The girl was pregnant. Of course she was pregnant, of course she -

Mulder’s hand at Scully’s Bettie Page waist, somehow sinuous even in those boxy scrubs. Scully flinches, breathes, proceeds.

Scully dying, hypovolemic, hating him. Scully translucent as the votive candles she surely lights in her dark church, pale and flickering and full of temporary light.

Skinner looks upwards, at the cheap paneled ceiling, at the bad fluorescent light. He looks at the way Mulder’s hand is spread across her back with only support and not an ounce of possessiveness. He realizes, then, that it has never occurred to Mulder that Scully could belong to anyone else.

[casuallycryingoverbooks]

Okay so i recently started doing dissections in my biology class and if you’ve ever done a dissection you know that you have to flip the left and right because you are facing the specimen, which leads me to a head canon:

Scully constantly gets her left and right confused. Not when shes autopsying, thats the only time she actually knows it, but shes terrible at giving and taking directions. She’ll look at a map and tell Mulder to turn right only to realize three miles later that they were supposed to go left. Mulder will tell her the paper she’s looking for is in the pile on her left and she only looks in the right stack 1 in 3 times

[embeccy]

"Do you still perform autopsies on conversations you’ve had long ago?"

- Donte Collins