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World's Finest RPG Reality Check: A Cold Dark Place (PG-13)

Discussion in 'The Story Board' started by Bird Boy, Mar 18, 2002.

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  1. zero zero nine

    zero zero nine striding

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    Agent Alex Sera

    12:35 am

    I guess they would call this the good part of town. Good in the sense that it's not broken, dirty or ugly. And those guys drive a lot faster than I thought they did. My dad's home is a combination of East and West, retaining those meditative pools with deionized New York water. Exceptionally clean. Koi live in there.

    My father's office is decorated with portraits of us, our family, places we've been and wish to go. I look so happy.

    I turn back to Ruilong. "Joining the family business?" I ask her.

    She smiles. "You didn't, so I guess I have to make up for your failures."

    "My failures? I don't like the guy."

    "And that's why you failed. Mama's boy." She giggles. "Dad'll be here soon."

    I laugh too. "You're not so pretty for me to stop from hitting you."

    "Yes, I am." She smiles. I think me and her get along best in this family. We call each other every few weeks, I guess. More than I talk to both of my parents. But she failed to mention working for my dad.

    "Son..." Crap. The big man mob Chinese mafia boss on campus. My father.
    "Yeah, dad. I'm here on a murder investigation."
    "There are enough corrupt cops and a few honest ones to tell me that." Paintings. They're giving me a weird, "we're watching you feeling."

    I pet the steel dragon that he has on his desk.

    "Dad--"
    "Have you gone to see Samantha?"
    "Kind of, but that's--"
    "Is she well? I hope she's well. She's good for you." Look at this motherf*****. Don't even start, Dad. I mean, he's not a really a motherf*****, since my mom had both me and Rui as the same time, so I guess he's just... a f*****.
    "That was seven years ago. And I've been meaning to ask you how you screwed that up."
    "What?"
    "Did you kill her parents, or have them killed, sabotaged their car?"
    "No." I can't f****** believe it. He has the guts to tell me no.
    "Liar. I was there... you asked me--gave someone some kind of order--" I make it very careful not to swear. Very careful.

    "No. I didn't. You have my word."

    "She saw your fu--your name, damn it!"
    "For what? Drug trafficking?"
    "You killed them!" I can't believe it... only now I realize he's a murderer. My father the murderer, just like he's always been. I push the steel dragon off the desk to the floor. It makes a loud clang, like gongs and horns calling out for war. The men reach for their guns, but family says no, stop, he's one of us.

    [speaking Chinese]
    "No. I didn't do anything. Another syndicate..."
    "What?"
    "We were good... but they were better."

    I get up to leave.

    "Stop wasting my time."
    "I waste your time... I can help you nail one of the biggest crime bosses on the East Coast. Victor Douglas."
    "Why, why would he kill a cop?"
    "For the same reasons I would."
    "He wasn't on the list."
    "He's better than us. He got some of my boys to do the job..."
    "And you knew about all of th--"
    "That's why they call it FBI... go investigate. But when you're in New York, you'll stay here."

    So that's three things on my to do list: One, catch motherf***** A, two, catch motherf***** B, and on a more personal note, find out what the hell happened that day and finally make things right between me and Sam. And FBI probably won't send back up.
     
  2. Freza Resurrected

    Freza Resurrected Criminal Mastermind

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    OOC: Sorry I haven't posted in a while. I've been busy. I like the 2 new characters. A journalist and a fed are just what we need to keep things fresh.

    11:55 PM
    Inside Charlie's Car

    "Stop talking so much." Charlie says with a smile.

    "um..Sorry. It's just that I've had a very, very difficult night."

    He nods his head and says "I know what ya mean."

    "No you don't." I quickly reply. If only I could tell him all that I had seen. All I can talk about with him was the last horrible incident. "Have you ever seen anything like that?"

    "The girls?"

    "Yeah."

    He shrugs his shoulders and says "Still haven't. Sam's been the one who really gets her hands dirty. I try not to look at the stuff."

    My throat aches and I cough a couple of times. "Sooner or later you'll have to open your eyes."

    "Nah. I've been doing just fine like this. It helps me keep my sanity I guess. But you seem to know an awful lot for a rookie."

    I shake my head "I'm sick of people calling me kid. You guys don't even know how I got here in the first place."

    "Feel free to tell me the story but first tell me where I'm taking you."

    "Back to my car in front of the Amsterdam Houses. I don't know why you guys took me to Sam's apartment anyway." In fact I can't even remember it.

    "Alright. So clear things up for me. Are you a rookie or not?"

    "Well I haven't been a cop for long.."

    "Then your a rookie." He says. The car goes silent for a moment and all we hear is the sound of the windshield wipers.

    "I trained for the bureau."

    "Then why are you here?" He asks.

    I take a deep breath. "I went to the classes and things but I just wasn't good enough I guess."

    "So you decided to become just an average cop instead?" Charlie asks.

    "Yeah."

    "Then your a rookie." He laughs.

    "A rookie is someone who doesn't know anything and gets little respect. I'm already up for detective."

    "After what? Two? Three days on the force?" He asks.

    "I.. came from another precent in Chicago and was offered a job here."

    "How long did you work there?" He asks. I don't reply. "Our city is...well, it just sucks really. We are running low on cops. Good ones anyway. This ****hole probably saw your FED or almost Fed training and assumed you were going to be one hell of a cop. Now your here and they are throwing you into this photokiller case in hopes that you will be able to catch him because you 'could have been' a fed."

    He's smart when he wants to be it seems. I never really thought of it that way. He's probably right. He is right. Here it is I came here with a big ego thinking that I could clean up this town because I was the best but so far I've just been getting my ass kicked. I'm in over my head.
    The car comes to a stop and Charlie says "Is that your car?" He points to the oldsmobile next to the ambulance.

    "Go home and get some rest,kid." He says as I open the door to get out. "And if I were you I'd throw away that shirt and buy a case of pepto haha. If your going to 'open your eyes' your going to need to get a stronger stomach."

    "Thanks for the ride and the conversation." I say as I slam the door shut. The car speeds away and I'm left in the middle of the road. Standing in the pouring rain.

    I remind myself the fact that I can't turn back. I'm in too deep now.

    I walk to my car and put the key into the lock. Suddenly all of my helplessness,sickness, and rage rise. I thrust my fist into the driver's door window and scream at the top of my acid and vomit burned lungs.
     
  3. zero zero nine

    zero zero nine striding

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    Agent Alex Sera

    12:45 am

    How much of this is owed to people that will never see it? This room? This house? How many people had to fall, fall and die for me to be here. To be an agent? So many questions often serve to drive a person mad. And mad doesn't really work in my line of business. Cop business. Whatever you want to call it.

    But slag it, I'm going to bed.

    *zzzzzzzzzzzz*
     
  4. The Guitar Slayer

    The Guitar Slayer 1965 to Eternity

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    OOC: Ahem, [cough, cough]

    WAKE UP, PEOPLE!

    [hack]

    It's been silent for almost a month, and I have to tell you, the RPG could be shut down for lack of participation. If you're stuck, communicate with your fellow RP'ers and pick each other's brains.

    Where we're at:
    • MH and Kenya are finishing patrol and heading back to the squats.
    • Sam and Key are fretting over Alex and his whereabouts.
    • Cassidy and Sundance are getting drenched and going toward the subway.
    • The Killers' whereabouts are unknown at the present point. Beware.
    • Alex Sera is taking a snooze for now. Feel free to disturb :p
    • Greg has just punched his car window in after a nasty acid trip and a gory crime scene.
    • Charlie has taken Greg home and driving to parts unknown.
    • Victor Douglas is in LA, and his second in command Michael is holding down the fort.

    I think that we should let all of our characters sleep until 5:30-6:00 AM. As I recall, someone wanted to start something at 7 AM or so. If you have something in progress (like the Key and Sam scenes), go ahead and finish it. If you do want to do more stuff on this night, please do it ASAP. I know a lot of chaos will start up 'tomorrow night,' and I think we do need an increase in tempo. My characters are going to dreamland at the end of this post. Please finish your side projects for the night and head to bed so we can get cracking on 'tomorrow.'

    Hey, the nap thing worked for the Batman RPG. I hope I'm not treading on too many people's toes, but this one needs to be defribbed.


    IC: Cassidy
    1:20 AM

    "Sundance, I'm gonna gut you when we reach dry land again!" I yap at my partner. We're in the middle of a f***in' tsunami here, and he's try to look as if everything is normal.

    He sighs and picks up the pace. We're both waterlogged and freezing, and he thinks it's a walk in the park. I can feel every part of my body except for my feet squish inside its clothing. The biting wind scratches my face with my own wet stringy hair. I probably look like a drowned Irish setter by now. I spy a large puddle right in front of me...now to line up Sundance....

    He already sees me backing up and tries to take cover, but I run up and send a wave up onto his jacket and pants. He squawks indignantly and chases me all the way to our destination.

    We finally reach the subway station entrance and I slide down the bannister, Sundance's lankier form rushing after me, trying not to slip and dive headfirst down the stairs. Some late night commuters scowl at us and our noise, others smile and remember things of the past.

    I crash land at the bottom of the stairs and laugh manically. Sundance reaches the landing above me and just stares down and shakes his head with a bit of a grin. I pull myself up to sit on the last step, and he sits a step up. I lean my head back against him, and Sundace puts his arms around my middle, his legs splayed around me and spilling down the steps onto the floor, outstretching mine. We watch the world go by.

    "Hey, you. Can't sit there." I open my eyes and feel myself jolt as I recognize the blue shirt. I recoil back on autopilot and Sundance tightens his grip on me slightly.

    "Good evening, sir. What might be the problem?" My associate breezes right into the conversation.

    "No loitering. Are you homeless?" The security guard's hands flinch toward his handcuffs. The way this new system works, vagrants like ourselves get shipped off to the police station and get put on welfare/rehab/detention center. They won't let us be anymore. It's not always people's fault they're homeless. I mean, if your man dies leaving you and a kid, and you're bedridden or something, you only got five years on welfare. Doesn't matter if your disabled or not. You get the five years and then you're out on your ass, no exceptions, even if the kid is only six or something. Then you get arrested and the kid gets taken away and this whole other mess of stuff. Doesn't make sense to me. And they wonder why there aren't many itinerant musicians anymore...they all got put in jail for just living their life.

    I zone in again as Sundance answers. "No, sir, we're art students." Not a complete lie. We were students of the arts but we didn't belong to any particular school.

    I find my voice. "We are observing the nocturnal habits of people and how they contrast from people who work in the dayight hours. It'll make for a mixed media collage with some oil..."

    "Can I see some ID?" I almost laugh at that one. We show them the same piece of ID everytime: Sundance's old school bus pass from ten years ago. And every time, we get away with it.

    This time is no different. He grumbles and moves on. Now, y'see, I don't fear security much. If they ain't armed, I don't fear them, especially when they're old enough to be my grandfather and have a pot belly. They're just working that gig to help themselves retire earlier. They aren't gonna put their lives on the line so close to the plane to Miami.

    "C'mon, man, let's move. Someone else is bound to see us...and we may not be so lucky." I stand up and head toward a heating vent. Taken. All of them were. Most of them were the regulars, but there were a few new ones tonight. Damn that welfare reform.

    Plan B. "Which one is bigger?"

    "Men's." Sundance surveys the area quickly and then ducks into the bathroom with me close behind. The attendant is off for the night, so there are no hassles. I put the chair up against the bathroom door and make a small blockade. Meanwhile, Sundance aims the airblowers at just the right angles.

    I take off my jacket and outer shirt, leaving my tank, and wring them out in the sink. I look in the mirror and observe Sundance doing the same, except he removes everything but his boxers, including the inseparable boots and socks. "Jim!"

    "Nobody's coming in."

    "Do you know what could be growing on this floor?"

    "You sound like a mother."

    That shut me up. He guffaws at that, and I spritz him with some hot water. He doesn't pay me any mind and goes right on drying himself and his clothes off in front of the air dryers. He fishes out a hair bush and proceeds to groom himself as if this was his own personal bathroom.

    I decide he has the right attitude about this whole thing and strip down to my shorts and tank and let the rest of my clothes dry. I tiredly lean back against the bathroom wall until Sundance guides me to the center of the heat wall he has constructed.

    I dry off fairly quickly, but my hair is still a wet snarl. I look at it in the mirror sullenly, too tired and frustrated to do anything.

    "Darlin', you should really wear your hair back in a braid so you don't have to deal with all that," Sundance comments as he pulls his socks on again.

    I'm in one of my pissy moods. "I should lop it all off." I reach down into my boots, thrown haphazardly under the sinks and pull out my knife.

    Sundance calmly takes the knife out of my hand and starts to untangle my hair with his fingers. "You really should gain some patience, love. It'll help in the long run," he lightly breathes onto my neck.
    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    After we finished drying ourselves out (and Sundance insisting he had to help me dress, me being in my 'exhausted state' and being 'almost helpless'), we unlocked the bathroom door and found a night train that took tours of the city. They don't care if you sleep on it or do whatever. You pay your fare and ride.

    Sundance and I crammed ourselves lengthwise onto a long seat on the subway, tightly spooned. If we were any closer, I'd be behind him. He didn't mind at all, and the last thing I remember was him pulling his coat over us as the train whizzed by Grand Central.
     
  5. Mattashell

    Mattashell Before punk,there were NUGGETS

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    I took off my wet shirt and someone is rubbing my back. I don't need to look to know who it is. I'm sitting on my "bed", which is really a pile of blankets. I'm thinking and I'm trying to ignore the bad music playing from someone's radio they probably ripped off a tourist.

    We shouldn't have come back so early. Shawn and Chris are still out there, I'm shocked that they had more dedication then me. Look how I turned out. Tomorrow will be different. Tommorrow we won't turn back at the first sign of rai... My train of thought is interupted. Suddenly I notice that the music has stopped. A voice on the radio is talking. NO! NO! Tonight this has happened. Near where we were patrolling. We could have done something. We could have helped those people.

    Someone notices the sudden tenseness in my back. "Shhh." I hear softly in my ear. "It's okay, Baby. I'm gonna make everything okay for you."

    "We were near there..."

    Again, "Shhh. Unless you've got a time machine under one of these blankets you've got to let it go." I feel a warm kiss on my neck. I turn my head and kiss her back deeply. Tears run down my face. I put my arms around a girl for the first time since I left home as she pulls the blanket over us.
     
  6. zero zero nine

    zero zero nine striding

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    OOC: I was wondering about this.

    Special Agent Alexander Sera

    1:30 AM

    *zzz--* huh? What? Damn. The phone is ringing.

    "What?" I ask.

    A girl's voice cracks over the signal.

    "Alex?" That's my name. She knows my name.

    "Hmm."

    "Where the HELL have you been? Where are you--are you all right?" This girl is obviously not well, and I obviously don't know her.

    "Lady, little girl, I am busy trying to get some sleep. I don't know which Alex you're looking for... but I only one woman mad at me enough to bother me in the middle of the night when a person like me is a federal agent and has a license to kill--"

    "Uh, I'm sorry, for bothering you Mister--uh--Agent Alex, sir..." She sounds even more scared. I sigh heavily and try to ease the tension.

    "Not that I would use it, okay? It is a dangerous world out there. Why aren't you asleep?"

    "Can't anymore."

    "This Alex your boyfriend or something?" The girl almost starts to cry.

    I hear another voice in the background.

    "Kayla, who're you talking to?" Uh oh. I know that sound.

    "Oh, uh--sorry, Detective McK--Sam. I'm sorry, damn it. I just saw your recent call list on your phone, and I know it's stupid and I'm hopeless and I thought it was Alex. My Alex--I mean, the one I know. Not your Alex. I know, it's dumb." She starts to sob again. I can hear it.

    "Let me see that." The phone is handed off to the woman I was talking about earlier. "Hello, Agent Sera?"

    "Yeah, Samantha?"

    "Sorry for disturbing you--" Kayla's voice cuts in from the back.

    "Who's Alex? Is he your boyfriend? Is he?" Wow. I can almost feel her smile.

    "Ex. That's it."

    "Yeah," I say, forgetting that Kayla can't hear me."

    "Oh! Sorry. I'm guess the giggly schoolgirl got the better of me. But that guy sure is scary."

    "Tell me about it."

    I finally reply to their conversation. "Uh, Sam. I'm still here."

    "Yes, go back to sleep. You and me both need it." I rub my eyes.

    "Good night, Sam."

    She coughs. "Damn. I haven't had one of those in a long, long time."
     
  7. zero zero nine

    zero zero nine striding

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    OOC: Hey, what happened? Everyone went to sleep (again)?

    This isn't just a reminder to get everyone back in the game, but to let you all know that I am adapting this game into comic form :D

    I don't really know what that would mean legally for your characters. I think I need to get all of your written permission to do that. PM me for more info and to send me your permission if you want. Thank you!

    And I can always use an extra artist :) (fishing for more help lol)
     
  8. Barb Gordon

    Barb Gordon Nin-Mod

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    OOC: Very spiffy Zero! I've just been a bit dead. Studying for finals, not to mention actually taking them, seems to be the ultimate thing to kill creativity :p Anyhoo, I'm reveling in inspiration now since I'm on break, so I'm hoping to get back in action very soon. How about everyone else?

    ~Barb
     
  9. Harvey Dent

    Harvey Dent The Batman

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    Michael Cortlandt - Penthouse Apt. (1:35 PM)

    OOC: In the interest of hopefully moving things along (and because I haven't posted for like, two pages :eek: ), I'm gonna put Mike on the road.


    IC:

    What time is it anyway? Where's that clock--oh, there it is. 1:35 AM? God Almighty, this has got to be the longest night...day...whatever...in history. I need to get out of here.

    I get dressed pretty quickly and grab my keys. No sense in hanging around here with the broad fast asleep. I'll just drive around town. Should give me a chance to think about things.
     
  10. The Guitar Slayer

    The Guitar Slayer 1965 to Eternity

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    OOC: I'd really like to get the show on the road. The best way to do this, as I said before, would be for everyone to get some sleep. Michael going out is okay, as long as he just drives for a while and not start up something that is between 2 AM and 6 AM. I think we need Barb Gordon and Batgirl_2005 to finish off their conversation before we really do anything else. I hate to shout y'all out, but we gotta keep this sucker moving along. I'd personally like the RPG to get to 6 AM, when the workday begins and just run through the next day as fast as possible. There will be a bunch of insanity going on "tomorrow night" and that'll really wake up the RPG.

    At the moment, I'm in dreamland until about 5:30 AM, as are a few others. Zero, I'd love to see the comic, especially my people :eek: . Once you got some stuff together, PM me, and I'll set up a thread for the comic adaption. Heh heh heh.

    Until we meet again, Have a Happy Christmas and a Merry New Year!
     
  11. Barb Gordon

    Barb Gordon Nin-Mod

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    OOC: This is my super duper speedy way to get up to date!

    Det. Sam McKay

    IC: 6:00AM

    "...aw ****."
    Okay, probably not the best way to begin a day, but I really feel like crap. I vaguely recall what went on last night, ending with talking to Alex...god...on the phone, lots of crying and talking with Kayla and somehow my driving her back to her place and managing to make it home myself. Slapping the snooze button on the alarm clock I roll over and try to bury myself in my covers.

    KNOCK

    damnit.

    "No one's here."
    I shout out feebly. I hear a short snort on the other end.
    "Love it when the silence answers back."
    Come Charlie's all too chipper morning voice.
    "Go....Away."
    I hear the lock turn...why the hell did I give him the spare key to my apartment?! Suddenly he's at the foot of the bed.
    "You slept in your clothes?"
    Glancing down I realize I had indeed slept in my clothes from yesterday. I glare back up at him, mussed up and frizzy hair coming out of my ratty ponytail. I know I certainly look as ****ty as I feel. If I could just go back to sleep...
    "Sammy come on!"
    Charlie slaps my foot and I kick up in the air hoping to nail him, no such luck.
    "Okay fine, that's it."
    He says in a stern growl.
    "CHARLIE!"
    I screech loud enough for the whole building to hear as he hauls me up from the bed.
    "Time to get off your ass and start the day!"
    He replies calmly, cheery tone as strong as ever.
    "If I get hold of my gun I would--"
    "hey now...I know you love me."
    He's wearing a cheeky grin now. What kind of day to I wake up to? Gently shoving me into the bathroom, Charlie closes the door, holding the doorhandle after I try to get back out a few times. Slipping out of my wrinkled clothes I decide to give in and finally start the shower running. Damn Charlie.

    ~Barb
     
  12. zero zero nine

    zero zero nine striding

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    Special Agent Alexander Sera

    6:00 AM

    Man... you ever have the feeling like the day would never end and tomorrow would never come? Yesterday was like that... it felt stretched beyond all comprehension. Like weeks.

    Time to start another unusual day. I say "unusual" because that's what it is. See, most law enforcement guys realize at the last second that they have to kill someone. I can tell the second I wake up. Chalk it up to the training my parents had me do. Extensive martial arts, ninjutsu, crazy things like that. I mean, why the hell do you make your kid learn NINJUTSU?!?! Oh... right. The old man, my father. Training me to be an assassin. For the mafia. Silent killer, the untraceable kind.

    But I turned my back on him. In the old days, the ancient days, they would send my sister to kill me.

    Shower, brush the teeth, get dressed, get the hell out of there.

    The field office is already buzzing. They have leads.

    "What the hell, Sera? You involving yourself with the regular cops?" Some field director lackey thinks he can mess with me. Taylor. That's his name. He's a good 10 years older than me, maybe fifteen. Stress hasn't been good for his heart. Not to mention his face.

    "Isn't that what I'm supposed to do to get info?" I retort.

    "Whatever. You were supposed to come here. That 911 stunt you pulled... it--"

    "It worked. Without me, you would have seen it on CNN or some sh**. AND looked like an ass."

    "Don't sw--look. I'm gonna put you in charge of our investigation."

    I laugh, and look him dead in the eye.

    "When wasn't I in charge of our investigation? You guys got fat letting the cops do your work. Credit thieves."

    "Deal with the cops then..."

    "Yeah, I will. They're a lot more fun to talk to. And Taylor, what does your ranking say?"

    "Assistant Field--"

    "That's exactly right. 'Special Agent' is in front of mine."

    I pull out my cell phone. Time to talk to Parker and Samantha and tell them what's up.
     
    #172 zero zero nine, Dec 28, 2002
    Last edited by a moderator: Dec 29, 2002
  13. The Guitar Slayer

    The Guitar Slayer 1965 to Eternity

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    OOC: Let's rock and roll, folks.

    IC: Sundance
    6:15 AM

    "Hey."

    Something blunt jabs my leg. I open one eye to see who is the jabber. An older conductor peers down at me with a mixed expression: fear, slight irritation, curiosity, and maybe a bit of nostalgia as he sees Cassidy curled in my arms.

    "Top o' the mornin', sir," I greet him with a smile from my horizontal position on the train seat.

    "Wake up your girl and move. The commuters will be here any second. I should have woke you two up when I first got here...."

    "Ah, but you didn't sir." I sit up, prop up Casssidy and gently shake her awake. Since there is no urgency in my motions, she calmly takes in the sight of the conductor, arches an eyebrow, leans back on the seat, and steals my coat. I shrug and turn back to the conductor.

    "I didn't because you weren't causing any trouble."

    "Kind of hard to when you're unconscious," I return the volley.

    He sighs and looks at me, softening his visage. "You remind me of my son, right down to the sense of humor. He died...." Judging from his gestures, I almost immediately guess how the boy died.

    "My apologies, sir. We'll move along." I rouse Cassidy, but she had watched the whole scene play out.

    "Thanks..." She read the nametag. "...Harry. We'll see you around."

    "No problem, miss." He tips his hat to her, and she smiles for the first time in days. With that, I return the gesture and we walk out of the train car.

    We're at a seedier section of town now, worse than before. This is the Redlight District, full of hookers, their kids, and their pimps. They are more or less harmless, just very depressing to see. I read the map on the wall of the station as Cassidy buys another pack of cigarettes at the vending machines.

    We head up the stairs and step over sleeping whinos as we go. As we reach the top, the overcast skies threaten to burst open, but seem to be holding their wrath for later. I see the streetwalkers already, not three yards away. They won't approach me; they know I have no money and a chick with me. The neon signs flicker overhead, in desperate need of repair. Cassidy gazes at the run down peep shows and tenements nearby, then begins to march up the boulevard.

    Catcalls hound us as we make our way up, both from male pimps and prostitutes for Cassidy, and both males and females for me. They don't hurt because we know better. We're not fooled like they were all those years ago. A man with gold around his neck and wrists leers out from a window above us. "Lovely lady, won't you join us?"

    "I've seen Les Mis, man," she shouts back up. "I don't need anything for my nonexistent kid."

    "What about your friend there?"

    I raise my head up. "Do I look like Fred Garvin to you?"

    I hear titters of laughter from some the older streetwalkers. The man draws back from the window, and we continue our trek. Carnal desires of strangers feed their children and keep them alive to see another day. But each they do rise, there is one less day to be alive.
     
  14. zero zero nine

    zero zero nine striding

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    Special Agent Alexander Sera

    6:05 AM

    "Parker? Parker... good. We think it would be better for us, and the American people, if our organizations would work together. Tell your boys and your boss that I have authorization from the higher-ups to take control of the investigations, both of them."

    "Nope, doesn't seem like a good idea to me, boss. The FBI can't waste agents--excuse me--special agents, but they sure can waste time."

    "Don't patronize me, Parker. We all want the same thing. To kill those guys. Or at least bring them to justice, corrupt and all."

    I harden my tone over the phone.

    "Look. All I'm asking for is intel. Not even manpower. If you wanna give that, that's up to you. I'll be down there in a half an hour. For the two girls, we found this vomit and blood thing down there... our lab guys are running it. And the killer left a tape. Maybe he's getting sloppy, or our boy's graduating. Or it isn't him. I need your help. He's getting a lot more violent. Harder to tell these two apart--damn. McKay and her partner Charlie--that his name? Didn't check it. Maybe they're getting sloppy. I picked it up after they left. If you wanna see it, tell McKay to call me, all right? You got witnesses?"

    He sighs. "Lookin' for some."

    "Take care of it, ASAP."

    I hang up the phone. Our CS guys are a lot better than theirs, I guess. But it's only one case. I need stuff on the other guy.

    I get into my sister's Acura and make my way to Times Square. I love it when it drops into fifth. Pretty nifty, little sister.
     
  15. Mattashell

    Mattashell Before punk,there were NUGGETS

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    MH

    6:00

    The sun shines in through the great windows of the warehouse. My eyes flicker open. Her body is warm in my arms. I've made a mistake, possibly a costly one. A mistake I'm going to have to live with, for better or for worse.

    I've had girlfriends before, in my old life, girls I did things with, everything but. Last night was the first time I went all the way, and, well, It was a beautiful experience. I realize I care deeply for this girl, and that is not safe for her or me.

    She stirs in my arms and says, "Good morning lover." Sean and his boys hear her and come over to us.

    "Well, look at who was keeping warm while we were out in the rain."

    I have to explain that we were out a long time.

    "Whatever," says Sean, "Tonight you team up with me, this patrol was your idea, now I'm gonna make sure you aren't 'sleeping' on the job. There was a murder last night, in your patrol area, and you were back here dining on my leftovers."

    I leap to my feet not bothering to cover my nakedness. "What The Hell are you talking about?!"

    "Oh didn't she tell you?" he says, "She used to be my girl." (except he doesn't say "girl")

    "Yeah," Damon says, "She's been everybody's girl."

    They are looking at eachother and laughing. I almost do something, but I stop myself. Instead I grab my coat, which is long enough to cover my body, and throw it on and storm out. I hear her calling after me to wait, but I don't even look at her. I am furious with her, even though I don't have I right to be. Her past is none of my business, but right now that doesn't matter to me. I step outside the doors, and it is still pouring, even though the sun is bright. I can hear them arguing loudly from within as I stomp away. My rage is a fire and the rain is cold.

    It feels good, soothing. Calming me down as I head away into the streets of New York...

    ...thinking.
     
  16. zero zero nine

    zero zero nine striding

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    update...

    OOC: My friend and I have done the head and body shots, though not as detailed or colored as we would like.

    So far:

    Samantha McKay
    Cassidy and Sundance
    Greg Hinrich
    Charlie
    Alex Sera

    I need better descriptions of Key Maxwell and Michael Henry... my friend wants to design the Killers herself. She's supposed to get them to me on Saturday! Gotta fix my scanner so I can show you guys!
     
  17. Barb Gordon

    Barb Gordon Nin-Mod

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    OOC: Sounds majorly awesome! This is so neat, can't wait to see how it all turns out!

    ~Barb
     
  18. The Guitar Slayer

    The Guitar Slayer 1965 to Eternity

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    OOC: zero zero nine, thanks so much for taking the time to do this. We really appreciate. As Barb said, can't wait to see it!
     
  19. zero zero nine

    zero zero nine striding

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    OOC: I apologize for taking so long. I'm in the process of fixing my scanner, which doesn't seem to like me at the moment.

    You're going to see two different styles... usually based on distance. Close shots will be really detailed (I hope), while farther shots will have an animeish look to them. Just two styles that my friend wanted to blend together. I hope they mesh and create a different, unique look.

    And what is this... we need more in character posts! :rolleyes:
     
  20. zero zero nine

    zero zero nine striding

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    Special Agent Alex Sera

    6:30 AM

    As soon as I arrive at the police station, my phone rings again. I'm less-than-greeted by the cops, and even less by Parker.

    "This isn't like Red Dragon. We aren't going to be friendly."

    "Sera." I brace myself to hear Samantha's voice. Instead, it's the crime lab.

    "Yeah, Sera, this is Melissa Rodriguez. I'm with the Crime Scene Unit. I analyzed that blood-vomit mixture that we picked from the Amsterdam Houses." Her voice is calm and collected, as if she was unaware of the horrific murders that took place near that stuff.

    "What did you find out?"

    "The DNA we extracted was male, no ident yet."

    Damn. It's not a registerered sex offender. It would have been so much easier that way. Of course, that would be too easy. God, man. Jeez...

    I sigh heavily. "Okay. What about the other stuff that was in there?"

    She rolls her chair over somewhere, probably to her microscope or something.

    "We got stomach acid, food (meat, probably from a burger), and here's the kicker: lysergic acid diethylamide. Psychotropic, hallucinogenic. Fun for the whole family." It's like she's almost smiling as if she found a treasure.

    "LSD? So the killer's a drug user?"

    She rolls back over somewhere else, almost away from the speaker phone.

    "Nah, I don't think so. We picked up the vomit from the stairs outside. There's no crystal clear connection, but there could be."

    I'm interrupted from behind.

    "Huh?" I mutter.

    It's Sam, with that Charlie guy pulling her arm.

    "How sweet," I say. "Did you guys hold hands in the car?" I smirk.

    Sam gives me a stern look.

    "Show it to me."
     
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