Reality Check: A Cold Dark Place (PG-13)

[Bird Boy]

Here's the thread for the "Reality" RPG...I have no idea how this will go, but try and keep it PG.. ;)

The Characters Taken list has been updated...

Remember to keep it lively folks!

-BB

[Freza Resurrected]

My partner's name is Bob. You'd think after seeing so many people with the name 'Bob' parents would stop naming their children that. He has one hell of a beer belly and he chain smokes. I can't stand him.
"Listen up,son. Your a rookie and the first thing rookie's gotta know is that there are three kinds of cops. Good cops, bad cops, and fat cops and all of them have to get a long no matter what because what we got here is a brotherhood do you understand?" Bob explains.
I shake my head in agreement as I role down the window of the police car. The smoke is really starting to bug me and I'm willing to put up with the thirty degree wind in order to breath a little better.

"Do you watch a lot of movies, Hinrich? A lot of cop movies?"

"I watch a lot of movies but watching Dirty Harry didn't make me want to be a cop." I'm not finished talking but he interrupts me anyway.

"Well the real thing ain't nothin' like the movies. It's constant paperwork. Constant. And right now this city is up to it's eyeballs in crime. You've read up on the case we're handling right now haven't you?" Bob asks. I shake my head and he continues "Well this photograph killer is one sick SOB. He stalks, he breaks in, he rapes, he kills, or he kills then rapes, and then he takes a picture of himself layin' in bed with them and he leaves it. But here's the thing we can't figure out what's with the pointing?"

I clear my throat and answer "He's killed nine and only three of the pictures have had him pointing in a different direction. I read that he points in the direction of his next victim but since it's such a big city it doesn't help us much. Did you notice he pointed with two fingers in the last photo?"

Bob smiles and says "Your good kid. You must be one of the good cops."

"Which one are you?"

"You'll just have to wait and see kid. You'll just have to wait and see."

[Barb Gordon]

I sigh, tugging a loose peice of hair behind my ear for no real reason, other than habit. For about the fifth time this morning I turn behind me and open up the window. I really wish some of the guys would lay off smoking, at least in the station. I breathe in the air, although I doubt it's any fresher than what's in the building. I glance over at my desk, and notice that the coffee I'd planned on having a few hours ago is just about as ice cold as it can get. I grab it and take it over to the sink and dump it down the drain. Not really sure why I get coffee anyways, I never end up drinking it most times. I smile to myself, shaking my head in thought. We'd gotten a new rookie this morning, and the poor kid got stuck with Bob, of all cops. Although I'm only just past the rookie years myself, it was easy to see that Bob was just about the last cop I'd want to get paired up with. But, this guy, think his name's Hinrich or something, looks like he might be able to deal with it. Whether he does well or not with Bob, it looks like we've got another good cop on the force, definetly something to be happy about. Sitting back down at my desk I stare at the paperwork covering it, and shove it to the outbox. Even though I get through the paperwork pretty fast, there's always an endless supply going into the inbox, faster than I can put them into the outbox. I glance at my watch, I've still got at least another hour before I go out on duty on the street. With that thought in mind, I make my way out of the room and down to the shooting floor.


Barb^-^

[Mattashell]

MH:

I'm walking, trying to look mean. I pass a newspaper vending machine. The headline says "PHOTOGRAPH KILLER STRIKES UPTOWN" I hear someone aproaching, calling "Dude! Hey dude!" I lokk, it's this kid, Chris, I've seen him in the squats. Pathetic dirtbag.

MH: My name is not 'Dude'
Chris: Oh man. I don't know your name.
MH: None of your bisines. That's my name.

We continue walking together.

Chris: You got any smokes, man?
MH: Why is it that all you kids smoke, but none of you ever buy your own cigarettes?
Chris: Man, you've seen me around here you know I got no money"
MH: Well then you don't have any ciggarettes either.

We turn down a less traveled street. He loses his attention and is looking past me. I turn to see a hoodlum pressing a gun in the ladies face. We look like street trash to him. He doesn't even care that we see him. I grab the gun hand and twist it behind his back. I apply pressure until I hear it break. Then I drop to the ground pulling him with me and twist his leg until that breaks too. I pick up his gun and point it at him. Chris pulls at my arm.

Chris: No dude! Don't do it!

He's pointing down the block, I see the woman is running a way and talking into her celphone. I can hear the sirens in the distance. "You got lucky, scum." I hack a loogi on his face and kick him hard in the ribs.

Chris: Come on let's go!
MH: Walk. Don't run.

We walk a little ways back down the block to the busy avenue where we bland in with the crowd. When we reach a safe distance we duck down an alyway.

Back by the dumpster there is a naked body. She is slit down the middle with her guts hanging out. Chris turns an vommits.

Chris: Call the cops.

I punch him in the head.

MH: No cops!

I notice something in the middle of all the gore. It's a poleriod.

[Freza Resurrected]

Bob stops the car at a street corner. Two kids run out of an alley across the street one of them's pukeing all over the place. I suspect under age drinking.

"What's your intuition say?" Bob asks as he runs a comb threw his gray hair.

"Some kids had too much booze too early." I reply. He looks at me like I'm stupid then he parks the car and tells me to get out.

We step out of the car and I run across the street. By the time Bob reaches the alley the kids run away. I want to go after them but he yells at me for even thinking about it.

"Don't chase them down. Their not hurting anybody...do you smell that?" he asks.

I sniff the air "It's horrible, probably the puke." he shakes his head as he lights up another cigarette.

"Welcome to homicide kid, that's the smell of death." he walks down the alley the sound of crushing garbage under his heavy footsteps is unpleasing. I follow him until we reach a dumpster. I'm afraid to look at what's behind it, Bob's telling me to take a look. A crumpled newspaper blows past my feet I watch as it tumbles down the alleyway and it's color changes from a light brown to a dark red.

The woman looks like she is in her early thirties. Her intestines are spilled across the ground and I watch as the maggets crawl threw her red hair. Bob bends down and looks closer at the guts at his feet. A picture lies soaked in blood, a man standing in the alley above the mangled body. The killer is standing. He is in the shadows and his face is covered in pantyhoes. I look at the body and the woman's right leg has pany hoes the left does not.

"It's not our man." I say.

"Our? Do you got a mouse in your pocket? This isn't our case."

"Wasn't it you that said we were part of a brotherhood?" Bob doesn't reply and he turns his attention back to the body.
"It's a copy cat. All of this isn't his style at all."

"So I've noticed. How long has it been since the last murder?" Bob asks as he stands up.

"Four days and the killer takes three week intervals. He wouldn't rape in an alleyway and he wouldn't destroy such an attractive body either."

Bob walks past me and he takes the green cellphone out of his pocket. "Well?" I ask.

"It's a copycat, a more sloppy,gruesome version of the Photograph Killer so you're wrong boy. This is 'our' man and you should have gone after those kids."

[Gyro]

I walk up to the little shack. I know one of the head guys of the syndicate will be here tonight. I figure if I take one down they'll either get real scared or real mad. I open the door and see five people sitting at a small table playing poker. They turn and stare at me.

"Spike! What are you doing here?" one asks

"It won't matter to you in a few seconds," I reply

Two big guys step up behind me. Damn, I didn't think they'd have guards. I grab a gernade from my trench coat and throw it on the table. At the same time I run towards the window, guns firing at me. I shoot the gernade. I can feel the heat from the exlosion as I crash through the window. I land hard on the ground.

"That didn't go as smoothy as planned," I say, "but at least I got 'em."

[Barb Gordon]

I cock my head and the gun, aim it and wait just a split second before pulling the trigger. I know without briging the target up for a closer look that I've hit it right on the mark. I push my protective glasses up on my head as I pauses to switch cartridges. Someone whistles behind me.
"Pretty nice shooting there, Tex."
"Haha, very funny, Chucky."
The guy behind me frowns,
"You love calling me that only because you know I hate that nickname, right?"
I look over my shoulder and grin,
"Of course, what reason is better than that?"
He comes into the booth with me, grabs his gun out of it's holster and shoots off a few rounds.
"I think you missed."
"Oh shut up, you."
I pull my glasses back over my eyes with a smirk,
"So, what's up?"
"Nothing really....here the buzz lately,though?"
I pause as I'm about to fire again.
"No......what buzz?"
"Looks like we got a copycat running around. A pretty disgusting one at that."
I fire off the round,
"Damn it."
Charles nods.
"Yeah, pretty much."
I put my gun back in the holster and take off the glasses,
"Whose on it?"
"Looks like Bob and the new guy."
I roll my eyes as he and I exit the booth,
"Geeezus!"
I exclaim,
"We're letting a rookie try and take care of this? With Bob?!"
I hiss,
"Someone could get hurt, Charles."
"Yeah, I know that too. But what are we going to do?"
I sigh,
"I don't know. But I'll figure something out. God, a copycat? Just what we need...."


Barb^-^

[Batgirl_2005]

I take a deep breath as I enter Alex's trailer, the smoke in the air makes me cough. Ethan, sitting on the couch (also his bed), grins at me. He is, of course, smoking a cigarette.

"Hey sexy." He says. Jeez... if the fact that he always says that didn't flatter me, I'd deck him.

"Those are bad for you." I state, not even giving him a hello.

"Bloody brilliant Holmes!" He says putting on an extremely bad British accent. I roll my eyes at him.

"Whatever. I'm gonna change then I'm going running. Where's Alex?" I ask.

"Out with Mandy." Ethan states. I cringe slightly. Mandy. Alex's stupid little whore girlfriend. She's younger than I am! Alex is stupid to think...

At that moment Alex storms in. His bleached blonde hair is messed up and there is a red hand mark across his right cheek. I smirk slightly.

"What? Did you and the whore get in a fight?" I say as though I was talking to a five-year-old.

He glares at me and then smirks. "Attention!" I slam my heels together and bring bring my arm up in a salute just out of habit.

"Do you have a date tonight?!" He shouts, still imitating a commanding officer.

I smirk slightly, I know how to get to him just as well as he knows how to get to me. "SIR, yes, SIR!" I shout. He smacks me upside the head. He hates being called sir.

Ethan gives me a quick salute and I relax. Out of habit and practice i still can't relax until I've been saluted back.

"Who are you going out with tonight?" Ethan asks. I smile sheepishly.

"Same guy as always... Erick." I look at the ground. Alex rolls his eyes.

"He's going to hurt you, Key." He says soothingly. He's more protective of me than my parents ever were; it's almost scary. But he was like that before he adopted me.

"I was going out with him for a month before you ever adopted me. When all my other friends completely ditched me, he stayed with me. He's not going to hurt me." I say, then I add, just to annoy him. "You're the one that's going to get hurt."

"What's that supposed to mean." He growls. He so cute when he's angry... wait... this is my guardian... creepy.

"Dude, my brother went out with Mandy, remember?"

Alex takes a deep breath. He's about to start a lecture. He's better at those than my parents were. I roll my eyes and storm into the back room.

Fifteen minutes later I come back out in my running outfit.

"I'll be back later." I say, avoiding Ethan's eyes. Alex is gone it seems... THen he comes out of the bathroom in a pair of sweats and a wife beater... jeez... he's buff.

"I'm going with you. So is Ethan." He says, I cock one eyebrow at them.

"Wait... When did this come about? I never said I..." Then he sighs, puts out his cigarette and we leave.




I run ahead of Alex and Ethan. It's not they're in bad shape for running, they just aren't exactly fast. I spent the past several years with the NYC Ballet, I'm in better shape than I ever have been. I had wanted to continue, but Alex and Ethan didn't have nearly enough money.

SUddenly I stop, and Ethan runs into me. Alex runs past and smacks my buttocks. Two strides later he stops. Just ahead of us is a cop car. I can smell a horid stench from here. Carefully the three of us aproach.

[Freza Resurrected]

More police vehicles arrive at the scene and so do pedestrians, all of them trying to get a glimps of the dead body. Bob turns the cellphone off and looks at me. "What are you doing? Put some caution tape up,kid. You can do that much can't you?" I feel about three inches tall after that. I run out of the alley and tell the people to step back and that 'There is nothing to see here!' but they don't listen. I run past them and I look at where Bob's car should be. We were not down the alley twenty minutes and the car is gone. If the punk would have known that it belonged to a detective he wouldn't have stole it but hopefully Bob has one of those tracking devices in it. I really don't want to go back into the alley.
I turn around and see that another cop has surrounded the area with caution tape. If I ever have second thoughts about the profession I chose now would definately be the time. I turn back around and look at the place Bob parked the car. Before the second rush of panic can run threw my bones Bob puts his hand on my shoulder.
"What the hell happened to the car?" He asks.

"I don't know." I reply with a very distinct quiver in my voice.

"Of course you know,dumbass. Somebody stole it and it's not the first time either. It's gonna rain in a little bit and so put a tarp over that body and fast! CSI won't make it here for another twenty minutes."

I run back to the alley pushing people away as I run towards the caution tape. I crawl under the tape but before I can stand up someone hits me over the back of the head and I fall to the ground.
"Stay behind the tape!" says a deep voice. He sounds black, I look up and I'm correct. Another cop and my badge isn't visible so I reach for it. He thinks I'm reaching for a gun so he kicks me in the ribs. I don't have enough air in my lungs to say anything but Bob speaks for me.

"That's my partner you stupid son of a *****!" Bob laughs "He's a rookie. Show him your badge kid."

I reach into my pants pocket and remove my wallet. I flip it like they do in the movies and one of my credit cards goes flying into the crowd. I blink and it disappears. The cop who just beat me pulls me to my feet and smiles.

"Sorry kid, I was just doin' my job." he laughs. Bob laughs with him as I stumble down the alley to help with the tarp.

"Find out which one of those people took my credit card will ya!" I call back. They say 'sure' but I can hear Bob's cigarette lighter ignite. Tiny drops of rain hit my shoulders and I know I should have been a banker.

[Batgirl_2005]

I'm standing at the front of the crowd with Alex and Ethan on either side of me. a credit card flies toward me and lands at me. Carefully I bend over and pick it up. A black cop stands over me when I stand up.

"Planning on doing something with that, miss?" He asks. I shake my head and hand it to him.

"What happened sir?" I ask.

"We're not sure yet." I shudder as he walks away, Alex puts a protectve arm around my shoulder. I strain to see nto the dark alley as it starts raining. I wish I had stayed at home.

[Barb Gordon]

Frustrated I fall back into my chair, fold my arms on the desk and lay my head down. I'm already on the Photo Killer case, but now there's a copycat? I hate it when someone decides to be a copy, it makes the real case that much harder. Of course, all cases are real cases, but now my major case has little add ons to it. Someone taps on my head.
"What Charlie?"
Comes my muffled response. I can hear him laughing,
"What?"
I ask, raising my head.
"That was Mark on the radio. Said he just about beat the crap out of the rookie."
"What?!"
I asked, alarmed. Charles cracks up even more.
"Don't worry, the kid's fine. And it was an accident, guess he didn't have his badge visible and when he tried to go under the caution tape, Mark nailed him."
I shake my head,
"That's not funny Charles. Poor kid..."
He finally stops laughing and nods,
"Yeah, guess you're right. But hey, if he's gonna make it doing this job, he's going to have to deal with some bad crap, right?"
I nod, he starts smiling again.
"What now?"
"Bob got his car jacked again."
This time I can't help but smile.
"Are you serious? That's like the third time in a month! We should start taking bets on when it'll get jacked next."
He grins,
"Seriously!"
Just then I see the captain walking towards us, I quickly straighten up,
"I assume you've heard that it appears we have a copycat of the Photo Killer?"
He states.
"Yes, sir. Bob and the rookie are on it, right?"
He nods,
"Yes....and I'd like you to be on it too."
"Wha? But...but I'm already on the actual Photo Killer case!"
I practically cry out.
"I'm not being taking off of it, am I?"
I ask dreadfully. He smiles,
"Relax Sam, and no, you're not. And you wont be working mainly on this copycat case either. I'd just like you to keep an eye on it, just in case it might have connections with the real Photo Killer case. Or if we might be able to figure out what this copy may do if the Photo Killer does something."
"Yes, sir."
"Good."
And with a nod towards me and Charles he keep walking down to his office.
"Geesh. He really gives me the creeps sometimes."
Charles says.
"I swear the man never blinks."
All I do is roll my eyes in response. I'm thrilled to be working the Photo Killer case. It's a pretty big case, and I am only just out of rookie status. I should be pleased to be getting to work a little bit on another case as well, but for some reason I'm not. I'm actually surprised at how reluctant I was about it to the captain. Great, I think, what a perfect way to show that you can handle more than one thing....


Barb^-^

[JLU Dude]

I'd like to join. I've got an idea for a corrupt cop.

[Freza Resurrected]

5:19 PM, Moe's Little Diner

Mark, the cop who beat me in front of the alley, gave Bob and me a ride to a small diner. It's name was not misleading, it was little and it belonged to a scotish man named Moe. I don't know if it's just me or not but I've never heard of a Scot named Moe before but this is New York. Mark left us there and Bob and I was alone in a cramped diner. He had the fried chicken and I had a hamburger. I bit into the hamburger and found that the meat was still red. I swear it 'moo'd' when I bit into it. They took it back and cooked it longer but watching Bob eat the chicken was like torcher.

"How long is it suposed to be before they bring back your burger?" He asked.

"About ten minutes or so." There is an awkward silence so I decide to find out more about my partner's personal life. "Do you have a family?" I ask.

He sucks a piece of meat out from between his teeth and answers "Um..I had a wife but we're separated. She took our son with her."

"I'm sorry, I was just trying to get to know you and.." I try to apologize but he interrupts me.

"Don't be. I'm not even sure that the boy was mine and that's why we separated. Hey! There's your burger." He pointed to the waiter bringing the burger to our blue table. The last person to bring it out was an old woman but she went home. I saw this man washing dishes a moment ago.

"Here's your burger; the cook almost burnt it this time." He laughed. I would have laughed too but it had been a rough day.

"Thank you." I said as he walked away. I turn my attention back to Bob who is eating a chicken leg. I want to talk about anything but the case but it's inevitable. I can either badger him about his marriage problems or we can talk about two sadist who take pictures of their victims. I quickly lose my apetite and we eat the meal in silence.

[JLU Dude]

My corrupt cop character's bio

Name: James Morgan
Age: 39
Eyes: Blue
Hair: Brown
Gender: Male
History: James joined the police force when he was 24. After two years on the force he became Dectective and investigated a murder case. He took a ring from the dead body. A crimeboss became aware of this and blackmailed James. James stated accepting payoffs to cover stuff up linked to that crimeboss. He has a girlfriend and uses the payoffs to buy her stuff and hopes to marry her. He regerts doing what he does but wants to keep his job.

[Barb Gordon]

OOC: wow, feel sorry for that guy! Sounds like a neat character though. Speaking of which, I think everyone's characters are pretty great.

IC:

Glancing at my watch I lean over to the desk opposite me and tap on Charles' head.
"I'm sleeping."
"No you're not."
"Yes. I am."
"Then how come you're having a conversation with me?"
"I'm sleep talking."
"Would you just get up, already!"
"Yes. MOM."
He jumps out of his chair before I have a chance to smack him on the head. He looks at the clock on the wall.
"Hey, we have another 15 minutes before our beat, what gives?"
"I told Mark that we'd pick up Bob and the rookie and bring them back here. They're over at Moe's place right now."
he grins,
"They have the best peppermint shakes!"
"I don't know how you eat those things."
I reply as I grab my jacket and the keys to our squad car.
"And why are you driving?"
"I feel like it."
"That's a lame reason."
"You just don't like having a women in charge do you?"
"Who, me?"
"Oh shut up."
He pauses in thought a moment,
"No, I don't think I will, thank you very much."
All the way down to the garage we banter back and forth. Once in the car we take off for Moe's Litter Diner.
"You know I hate that song."
"That's why I'm playing it."
"How can you listen to that?"
"Actually, I'm not that fond of it, but you hate it, so I love playing it."
"Jerk."
"Uh huh."
Finally I switch the station after surviving the song as much as I can.
"Do we have to listen to that?"
"What's wrong with the oldie's station?"
"it's old."
"Fine."
I switch to another station.
"Classical, are you kidding me?"
"And what would you prefer, Rap? Country?"
"Rock and Roll would be nice."
"Fine."
By the time we make it through one song we both like, we make it to the diner. Charles is out of the car before it's even in park. When he says he loves those shakes, he's not kidding. I enter the diner, leaving him at the counter to grab one of his shakes, as I spot Bob and the kid.
"Hey there."
I say as I approach their booth.


Barb^-^

[Freza Resurrected]

Why don't they leave! Badge on the table! Another one...not bad...not bad at all...their talking...no no no no no! Leave! Should I run? No don't run they have no clue no damn clue. I squeeze the spunge and the hot water runs down my pale white arm. The sent of lemon and todays special fill my nostrals and I glance out once more. Their leaving. Thank God their leaving! ooooooohh they'll never catch you. Your too goooood.

[JLU Dude]

Detective James Morgan:

I get up and change clothes. I put on my hoslter and put my gun in it. It was 1989 when that stupid crimelord Aronld Thomas caught me getting that ring off the corpse and blackmailed me to help him. I took it for my girlfriend at the time. I have a new girlfriend now. I use the payoff from Thomas gives me to buy her stuff. I walk out and pull out a box of cereal. I get the milk and a bowl and put the cereal in the bowl. I then pour the milk in and starting eating it. I look at the paper. This photograph killer is a sick man who should be brought down. I get down and walk out to the garage. I lock the door and go to my car and get in. I start the car and back out. I back out and put the car in drive and started to head for the station. I get the feeling it's gonna be one of those days.

[Mattashell]

I ditched that fool Chris. I entered the pawn shop and took the gun I got from that mugger out of my pants and set it down on the counter.

MH: How much?
Dealer: Fifty bucks.
MH: Sold.

He counts out the bills and gives them to me. He picks up the gun.

Dealer: Hey! this thing is loaded. What the..?

His expression of confussion becomes a grin. He points the gun at me.

Dealer: I decided to keep this present as a free gift. Out of the kindness of your own heart! Now if you'll put my fifty back down on the counter along with whatever you've got and get the hell out of my shop.

I put down the fifty.

MH: I don't have any money.
Dealer: I know you kids all get money from your loaded folks.
MH: I'm telling the truth.
Dealer: Then you're dead!
MH: HELP! SOMEBODY HELP ME!
Dealer: Shut up! You think if anyone can hear you they're gonna wanna get involved? Shut up kid!

I kick high and the gun flys out of his hand. I pick it up and point it at him. I take my fifty and back slowly out the door. Just before I leave I take out the bullets and throw them on the floor. When I get out on the street I thow the gun in the sewer.

Dealer: Hello police. This is Donny's Pawn Shop.... I just been robbed.

[JLU Dude]

Detective James Morgan:

Ahh, Damn. I get my first call for the day. I grab the radio. I'd hope to get to the station first. "Morgan here, I'll respond to it," I say. Donny's Pawn Shop ain't far. I put the pedal to the metal. I put the siren and light on. It won't take long. I hope this ain't the Photograph killer. I grab my .45 and prep it, just in case the goon's still in the area.

[Mattashell]

Oh, great! That scum called the cops. What an idiot, he actually tries to rob me, and then calls the cops. Who's word would they believe, him or me? Besides I've got reasons for avoiding cops as it is. I'm outta here.

[JLU Dude]

Detective James Morgan:

I arrive at the scene. "Okay, what happened here?" I ask.
"Some guy tried to rob me," he says.
"Do you have a security camera?" I ask.
"Why?" he asks, a little nervous.
"It could help us identify the kidnapper," I tell him.
"B-But now?" he asks, still nervous.
"Either now or until I get a serach warrent," I tell him. He shows me into the more. I play it. The lying... I hear footsteps. I look to see the guy gone. I run out and he's holding a gun at me.
"I can't let the truth out," he says.
"It doesn't have to be this way," I say to him. He doesn't care. He still thre gun at me.

[Freza Resurrected]

It's almost six o'clock and I can't wait. The only bad thing is that after six the rest of the month is nothing but a graveyard shift. I'll be coming back to work tomorrow at eight pm and going home at six am. The two cops I just met seem nice the guy driving, his name is Charlie, seems okay. The girl sitting on the passenger side seems to be nice too, not a bad looker either but not exactly 'my type', but the one thing that really got my attention was how she acted around Bob. When she isn't ignoring him she looks at him filled with hate, it makes me wondered if Bob did something to her in the past. Is Bob one of the bad ones?
"Do ya mind if I smoke?" Bob asks as he takes a pack out of his pocket.

Charlie glances back at us and smiles "Only if you roll down the window."

Bob turns around and remembers that this is a cop car, it can only be unlocked from the outside and the windows do not roll down, Charlie thought it was as funny as hell.

"Are you ready for tomorrows shift?" Bob asks. Samantha, the cop in the passenger seat, turns her head a little in order to hear my reply.

"We'll just have to wait and see I guess. What's the late shift usually like? You all have more experience than I do."

"It's filled with gunshots and screams and no backup." Samantha says with little emotion.

"She hit the nail on the head, kid." Bob says, Samantha shakes her head.

"Has the press found out about the copycat yet?" I ask.

Charlie laughs "Greg, how do you think the police station found out about it? They talk about cases on Channel 2 hours before we ever hear anything about it. It's really pathetic."

There is another awkward silence I guess it's my turn to say something "What's keeping us from getting there first?" I ask and yet again the car goes silent.

[JLU Dude]

Detective James Morgan:

Great. I grab my gun and fire at the guy. He grabs his arm, dropping the gun. He walk to him and handcuff him. "You're under arrest for threatening a civilian, trying to take a hostage, trying to shoot at a cop, and obstruction of Justice. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you don't have one, one will be appointed to you," I tell him. "Do you understand your right?"
"Yeah, I hear ya," the guy says.
I grab the guy and take him to my car. I toss him in the backseat. I then walk to the front and get in. I start the car and drive off, heading towards the station. I gotta remember to make a date with my girlfriend.

[Harvey Dent]

Alright, I'd like to get involved in this little game.

Name: Victor Douglas
Age: 55
Occupation: Leader of the New York Syndicate and President/CEO of Unitek, a provider of computer hardware/software for personal and professional use.

Background: Victor Douglas was born into a low income, single parent household in Brooklyn, NY. His mother died during childbirth, and his father worked at the Brooklyn Navy Yard. Victor would spend his free time playing stickball with the neighborhood kids in Prospect Park, and had a strong relationship with his father. One night, after his father was laid off from his job, he got drunk and was killed in a bar fight. As the old story goes, Victor fell in with a bad crowd and got involved with petty theft. But even at the age of 12, Victor had a good sense for business, and took the money he made from crime and used it to get the best education possible. He graduated from NYU with a degree in business, but it was during his college years when he came in contact with the New York Syndicate, a major crime organization dating back to the 1920s. While crime wasn't something that he loved, it seemed quite appealing, and he needed the money to start his own business. He joined the syndicate, but wasn't able to quickly reap the rewards as he was drafted into the Vietnam War. After serving his time overseas, he returned to New York and threw himself into his syndicate work, quickly making his way up the ladder to the top spot as crime boss. Using the vast resources accumulated by the syndicate, Victor formed Unitech, a small computer company that really served as a front for syndicate functions. Much to his surprise, Unitech grew into a multinational corporation which became a favorite of many businesses and world governments. Today, Unitech (now Unitek) is one of the largest providers of computer hardware and software, and the New York Syndicate is the largest criminal organization on the East Coast, controlling pretty much anything that is illegal. Not bad for a semi-poor kid from Brooklyn. ;)

[Barb Gordon]

We all fell silent when the kid asked that last question, thankfully by that time we had made it the station. Charlie and I got out and opened the back doors to let them out.
"Well, see you around."
I said with a smile as I shook the rookie's hand. I gave him a thumbs up sign as Bob entered the station. Without a moment to lose I dashes over to the driver's seat, hopped in and locked the door. Charlie blinked.
"Hey!!!!"
He began. I stuck my tongue out at him,
"You snooze you lose. Now get in, our shift starts now."
Grumbling and groaning he went around to the passenger door.
"Be grateful you don't have her."
he said teasingly to the rookie as he closed the door.
"Where to first?"
he asked, buckling up.
"I'd say 21st and Main."
"Why there?"
"Dunno, any better ideas?"
"Not really."
"Okay then, 21st and Main it is."
And with that I pulled away from the station. Depending on how the day went, I was tempted to make it over to the crime scene of the copycat. I wanted to have my own look around at the area, and perhaps compare things concerning it and the Photo Killer case.


Barb^-^

[Mattashell]

I walk into the old warehouse. Most of the kids in the city have been shacking here since they tore down the empty apartment building in the Bowery. The place skinks like piss and smoke...and other things. Alot of these kids are junkies and drunks, some of them are just runaways, some have good reason to be others are just brats who don't know how good they used to have it. Some of them beg or steal to survive, others sell drugs or their own bodies. Somebody says "Hey, it's the quiet kid. He's got food!" I set down the two heavy paper bags I lugged up here and start handing out the cans of food they contain. If I don't feed thes wretches, who will?

[Harvey Dent]

I look out the window of my office and stare at the New York skyline. A beautiful sight to behold, if I do say so myself. It's marvelous. It's majestic. It's magnificent. And, one way or another, it's all mine.

I turn away from the window and walk back to my desk. I pick up the News and frown at the cover. First, it was that damn photo killer. And now...there's some kind of copycat running around. Makes me sick to my stomach to think that such...people...can do these things and get away with it. Now I've done my fair share of bruising, and given the occasional cement bath, but this...

*BZZZZ*

I put my thoughts on hold and answer the intercom.

"What is it?"

"Mr. Douglas, Mr. Cortlandt is here to see you."

Michael, huh? Wonder what he wants?

"Send him in."

"Right away, sir."

I get into my chair and crack my knuckles just before he enters the office.

"Michael."

"Mr. Douglas."

I offer him a seat, but he prefers to stand. He notices the paper on my desk and nods.

"Interesting reading, wouldn't you say?"

I laugh, but there's nothing funny about it. This picture punk is bad for business...Syndicate business...and Michael knows that. After all, he's not only the Executive Vice President of Unitek, but he's also Second in Command of the New York Syndicate. He's the heir to both my thrones. Helluva thing to accomplish, even though he's only 35.

"Tell me Michael...how would you handle this?"

"What's to handle? There's no threat."

"No threat?"

He nods. My face tells him I'm not convinced.

"You know I like to run a smooth operation. Sometimes, things fall through the cracks, but nothing's perfect. But this is different. This...this can't go unchecked."

"So what do you want to do about it?"

I rise from my seat and walk to the window again.

"There's a shareholder's meeting in three days. You have that much time to find this guy, and that copycat."

"Three days? But that's not enough time to--"

"Three days." I add emphasis to the three by putting up three fingers. "Consider it...a test of your abilites to function under tight circumstances."

I can hear Michael sigh in fustration, but I know he'll do it. That sigh is a dead giveaway.

"What about the meeting?"

"I'll say you're away on other important business, which would be true."

"Okay. I'll make the necessary arrangements."

"Excelent."

I hear Michael turn around and head for the door. Just as he begins to turn the doorknob, I call him.

"And Michael?"

He pauses, waiting for me to say something, but he knows what's coming.

"Don't disappoint me."

He opens the door and leaves the room, closing it behind him. I look out over the city again and smile. It's good to be the boss.

[Freza Resurrected]

I take the keys out of my right pocket and begin the two and a half block walk to the police garage. After to strides Bob runs out of the station and yells at me "Where do you think your going?" he says.

"To my oldsmobile and then home!" I yelled back, just then the street lights illuminated the sidewalk.

"Get your ass back here! We got paperwork to do!" He said as he walked back into the police station.

I wanted nothing more than to go home but I found myself walking back into the police station. The inside is crowded, and it smells like justice and by justice I mean donuts. That much of the movies and television is true, cops like donuts but after all who doesn't?
Bob slaps away boxes and candy wrappers from his desk and pulls the chain on the green desk lamp. Then out from under his sweaty armpit he pulls the stack of paperwork and drops it onto the top of the wooden desk.

"A hell of a lot happened today which means this stuff is going to be a lot more...complex than the usual stuff. So I'll take care of it and you can look over it all when I'm finished."

Why did he make me stay if I wasn't going to do anything? Oh yeah! Someone had to get coffee for him. I walked to the coffee machine outside of his office and met someone new. He's white, middle aged, bald on top, and a mustache. He looks like a clone of Burt Reynolds gone horribly wrong.

"I haven't seen you around here before." He says.

I'm not sure if that's a question or what? "This is my first day, I'm partnered with Bob."

"I know lots of 'Bobs' kid. You'll have to be a bit more specific."

My hart skips a beat when I realize I don't even know my partners last name.

"Big Bob who smokes a lot." I say.

The guy laughs "Well my name is Kevin and if you ever want to see something naked come to my office. I gotta stack-o-porn two feet high in my bottom drawer." he laughed.

"I'll keep that in mind.."

Bob walks into the lounge "Hurry up with that coffee Greg and quit talking, we got paperwork to do." and then he left.

"Paperwork?" Kevin asked "Hell, I never do paperwork. Take my advice..Greg, and go home."

"It was nice talking to you." I lie and then I walk out of the lounge and back into Bob's office.

Bob looks at me grimly and says "I don't want you talking to that pervert so don't leave this office until I do. Now isn't the time for making the wrong friends. Copycat killed again an hour ago, in public! Nobody did a damn thing but watch as he took pictures and sodomized a twenty year old man...nobody called the police until his throat was slit and copycat fled."

[Barb Gordon]

I kicked the tire hard with my foot.
"Hey, if we get a flat, you're changing the tire."
Charles says, leaning against the car. I glare at him,
"Hey now Sam, take it easy,k?"
"Why should I? I'm pissed."
"There wasn't much we could do about it. No one called."
"How can someone be killed in public, and no one calls the freaking police? What the hell is wrong with this city?"
He shrugs.
"A lot, too much."
Is all he can say.
"God, I wish we'd been checking that area."
"We can't be everywhere at once, you know that, I know that."
"But this isn't right. This guy is getting more dangerous than even the Photo Killer. No one is safe...I mean, this guy just goes up to someone on the street and kills him in front of an audience."
Charles nods,
"Yeah, something sure is screwy."
"That's an understatement."
"Anyone get a look at this guy?"
"Well duh, like 20 people at least. Not sure if any of them are going to tell us though."
"And why's that?"
"They let a man kill another man and didn't even call the cops. They don't strike me as the kind of people that would give us information willingly. Probably keep quiet just for fun."
I sigh in aggravation running my hand through my hair.
"How can we concentrate on the Photo Killer with this loon on the lose? We're going to get stretched too thin trying to keep tabs on one and then the other."
The both of us fall into silence.
"Well, I'd say it's about time we had at least one break, whadya say?"
Charles suggest.
"Not much else we can do right now I guess....why not."
And I toss him the keys and get into the passenger seat. I'm certainly not in the mood to drive. I could really go for a couple shots right now, if I drank that is.


Barb^-^

[Batgirl_2005]

I walk into the trailer. I just returned from my date with Eric. It was wonderful, as usual.

The first thing I see when I walk in is Alex staring at the television screen his eyes wide. He was an unlighted cigarette in his fingers and a lighter in his other hand. His mouth is hanging open and his eyes are wet.

I snap my fingers in front of his face. "YO! Al! Wakey, wakey!" I say in his ear.

Then I look at the television screen. The news is on which is shocking, in this house, MTV or CMT are always on. On the screen shows the place where Ethan is working tonight.

"Hey cool. Ethan's on TV." I sit down across from Alex and listen to the story. As I do my eyes well up. A twenty-year-old white man was murdered by the phot killer's copy cat.

"Is it Ethan?" I ask Alex, my voice barely above a whisper. Alex shrugs not taking his eyes from the screen. I stand up and run from the trailer headed toward Ethan's work.

ooc: I'm taking a liberty here I know... if anyone objects to that, let me know and I'll change my post....

[JLU Dude]

Detective James Morgan:

I arrive at the station. I walk over to the back door and grab the guy. I take him out of the car and close the door. I lock the doors on the car and haul the man in. I walk in and throw the guy at the desk. "Book him," I say. The desk sagre does that.
"What's the charge?" he asks.
"Threatening a civilian, trying to take a hostage, trying to shoot at a cop, and obstruction of Justice," I tell him. "He lied to me and after I saw the security camera footage, I tires to take me hostage & kill me." I grab the guy and take him to the holding cells. I toss him in one. "I hope you find jail a unpleasant experience." I smirk and walk out.

[Freza Resurrected]

I don't have a reason to lock my door. I don't need to lock myself away from the evil that hides in the shadows cause I am he. Someone walks into my home..they will see the things. They will see 'the naughty corner' my own erotica will not suit them. I am the only one who can understand..the only one..the only one. I kick my shoes off and they flop across the brown rug and onto the green wood floors. How did they get green? I don't know but I don't like it. I smell like the diner but my water was shut off a month ago...the news! I run across the cramped apartment and turn on my black and white television. I make myself comfortable on the broken down sofa as I wait for them to talk about him..to talk about me...the dishwasher who would never amount to anything! They mention the name..I love it..but then it is not me..no no no NO! I rock my body back and forth as I hug myself. Why do they mock me? Another man does I do and they fear him more than me. Tears stream down my hot cheeks as I begin to have thoughts. Do not worry yourself..it is merely competition..competition by fate. You have to be better..that is what fate is telling you..you have to be better at being worse.

[Freza Resurrected]

Bob is driving my oldsmobile and he is driving it twenty miles over the speed limit. The cigarette smoke irritates my eyes and I have to roll down the window. He didn't even ask if it was okay with me before he lit one up. He keeps his left hand on the steering wheel and the the other his holding the cellphone. He turns it off and throws it in my lap.

"At three PM today a guy bursts in the door to a pawn shop and the owner quickly notices the guy isn't right because he's got this nervous twitch.." Bob explains but I have to interrupt.

"You mean nervous tick."

"No, twitch. The guy's neck keeps shacking back and forth and his left eye keeps winking. Anyway the guy jumps over the counter and pushes the owner out of his way and according to the owner this guy is a lot stronger than anybody else his size..."

I point with my right hand at an upcoming road "Turn here. Well, that can happen with people that have mental disorders. Their adrenaline can pump so fast that they can do things a normal person couldn't. Kinda like that guy from the Halloween movies."

"It's not like the movies kid. You should have learned that after your first three hours on the job today. Anyway, the guy busts up some tvs and smashes some gun cases but he lives with a camera." A smile starts to form on Bob's face but it quickly disappears. "Of course since the guy takes a camera of all things we got a team working at the crime scene all day and this dumbass left his fingerprints all over the place! His name is Melvin Walton, he escaped from a Maryland mental institution. Guess how long ago he escaped."

I keep looking out the window trying to figure out if we have passed the theater. I look back at Bob. "Two months?" I guess.

"Try twelve years!" Bob exclamis as the rolls down his window and spits out the cigarette butt. I watch as he puts a new cigarette in his mouth. We reach a stoplight and I stick my head out the window to get a breath of semi-fresh air.

"What was he in the mental institute for?"

Bob lights the cigarrette and takes it out of his mouth quickly as he starts to cough histerically. He opens his door and leans out in time to spit out some brown/black mucus. He leans back in and shuts the door before taking a deep breath of the smoke from his new cigarrette. "He'd dig up bodies from the graveyard and take'em home. But he didn't sodomize the bodies or anything..he didn't start that sort of thing until now. No, he used to sit them up in chairs and lay them in beds, lean them against walls that sort of thing." he coughs again and I can only watch as a drip of the brown gunk splatters on my steering wheel. "From what they tell me he did it to make it feel like he had company. To keep him from feeling alone. I guess he figured out that pictures of dead bodies last longer than the real thing."

The light turns green and we drive the next two blocks to the theater in silence. I make sure all the doors are locked before I continue with Bob to the crime scene.

[Barb Gordon]

We head back to the diner which is only a block from where we are. The waitress already knows what we're going to get, the same thing we get every time we're there on break, so she doesn't bother to come over. As Charles sits down I lay down a stack of folders on the table that I'd had in the back of the car.
"You didn't--"
he begins, but I hold my hand up to stop him from continuing.
"I can't take a break from this, especially now."
I reply as I begin opening the folders and spreading out paper and pictures.
"I can't beleive you brought your work with you...again."
Charles can't help but say. I don't bother to reply, already engrossed with the material in front of me. I had a very thin folder with me, the beginnings of the copycat case. At the moment I was trying to find similarities between the two killers, but so far, not much luck.
"There really aren't that many parallels here, Chuck."
The food has arrived and Charles is already digging into his burger and another one of the those shakes. I glance up and he makes a face.
"Do you have to have those pictures out while I'm eating?"
He asks, gesturing with his hand to the photos of victims at the various crime scenes.
"Oh grow a backbone...listen to me....I'm not exactly sure that this new guy is a copycat. His style is sloppy, random, and doesn't have much, if anything similar to the Photo Killer. It may just be some random lunatic, who knows?"
He swallows, nodding in though.
"You've got a point there."
He takes another bite of the burger, looking over the write-ups and photos.
"Wouldn't be surprised if you're on to something there. Back to the Photo Killer, any advances on that case?"
I shake my head as I munch on a handful of fries.
"Not as much as I'd like to. We've got so many leads and theories flying around right now. As for the profile of this guy, definetly a loner."
"Aren't they all?"
"Haha..anyways. I mean, this guy has issues, a couple, a few, but he's got them that's for sure. Maybe an inferiority complex of some sort, but we wont know for sure till we get some more data."
I begin to shove the papers and photos back in their respective folders.
"Gonna finally eat?"
"Yes, you know I hate cold soggy burgers."
"And I love 'em."
"Yeah. And I know if I don't eat mine while it's hot, you'll gladly eat mine."
Charles repsonds by grabbing a handful of my fries, even though he has plenty, ducking them in his shakes, and promptly shoving them into his mouth. I roll my eyes,
"Charming, simply charming."


Barb^-^

[Mattashell]

I'm practicing my kartate with my shadow, trying to stay in shape. It also is good to remind these other kids that I'm not worth starting any trouble with. On a towel, on the floor is a thrteen year old girl. She's nursing her baby and already pregnent with another one. She's also stoned out of her mind on H. I try so hard not to give a crud, but you just can't pretend you don't care.

Smeone has a radio playing. Bad music fills the air I try to tune it out, but I can't help being distracted. The dj comes on talking like an idiot, followed by some hip news reporter dishing out the day's top stories as fast as she can before they go to some obnoxious ads. It sounds like there was another murder like the one we discovered in the ally. The helplessnes I felt has been driving me nuts. I try to help people when I can, but what can I do about this? Track the guy down? How? And what would I do when I found him?

My attention is drawn back to the young, junkie mother. Her baby was born in a place like this, the next will probably be born here. No doctors, no hospital. The authorities don't even know it exists. It doesn't even have a birth certificate or a social security number. Not that the rest of us have much more presence in the eyes of society, and that's whats bugging me. The cops can't even protect normal people, and they wouldn't protect us if they could. Square society sees us as pests, they don't care if we are in danger. They don't mind seeing us killed. No one helped that fellow they mentioned on the radio, what would they care about these kids? I need to do something about this.

LaSean is a street kid. He's also a pusher. He suplies most of these kids with their poison and, needless to say, he and I don't get along.

MH: Yo Sean!
Sean: What you need?
MH: You hear what that lady said on the radio?
Sean: What that got to do with me?
MH: It got to do wit' all of us. We're not protected. Anyone can walk in here anytime.
Sean: I'm protected. (he puts his hand on a gun shaped bulge on his hip)
MH: That's what I'm sayin'. These kids are weak. Some of them are sick. Some of them are high all the time. We the strong ones. We got to get it together. We got to protect. We got to patrol.
Sean: What I care about them?
MH: You wanna see him, or him, or her with their necks ripped out? You don't care 'bout that? How many murders like this do you think don't get mentioned on the radio? You think they would care if it was one of these kids? You a businessman. You gotta take care of your people.
Sean: Okay, I hear ya. I'm down. (We shake hands)
MH: We gotta recruit the strong ones. We gotta form a group.

I'm looking at the little mother again. She seems hopeless, but history has seen kings rise from the lowest depths of society. Each of these kids has some hope. I can't let that hope be killed by madness.

I don't like the idea of an aliegence with LaSean, but it is a necessary compromise. With LaSean will come Damon. He's a junkie that hasn't gotten too bad yet, he works for Sean and he can still fight. And Kenya. She's very smart and works for him for the money. No one knows where she hides it, but I suspect she's saving up to get out of this lifestyle.

I'm thinking of who else can help. Chris is not very strong, but at least he isn't sick or high all the time. He hangs out in the village begging for cigarettes and beer money, and trying to meet girls. I'm going there to look for him now. As I am walking there, several police cars race past me, sirens blaring.

[Barb Gordon]

OOC: I decided to be more specific with Sam and her partner in that they're cop detectives, meaning they're not the everyday cops in uniforms. I think the other cop characters are that anyways, but I just wanted to specify for mine.

IC:

I'd decided that I needed a breath of fresh air, which is an oxymoron considering how damn dirty this city is. Besides, it's hard to sit and watch Charlie chow down on those greesy fries so fast without getting a bit ill. I took another sip of my soda as I strolled down the street. Most people didn't pay attention to me, a few glanced up, homeless and beggars mostly. I was tense under my jacket, not from the cold, but from being on my toes in case someone tried to jump me. You can never be too careful in this city, and being a cop means nothing without the uniform. A minor drawback I suppose of being a detective, but I'd much rather wear normal clothes than the uniform all the time, you get tagged to easily. I pause, glancing up at the street sign. McNara? Geesh, I hadn't realized I had been strolling that far down from the diner. As I look around I know I've strolled right into the worse part of the city you can find...wonderful. I stop, looking around with an ueasy feeling. I meet eyes with a young man. He can't be too much younger than myself, but he certainly lives in this area, I can tell my his clothes and look. I tear my eyes away from him as I hear sirens approaching. Don't tell me there's been another hit! I toss the drink into a nearby trash can as the police cars race by. I step into the street as I see Charlie driving up in our ride. Quickly and jog over to the passenger seat where he's already open the door, I hop in, closing the door as he races to catch up with the other cars. I glance back as I put my seatbelt on, but I don't see that kid anywhere.


Barb^-^

[Gyro]

OOC: Sorry guys, I have lost interest in this game(yeah, like you care:)). It doesn't make sense to play something you care nothing about, right? I have decided to quite since it's not like I was playing anyway. This was my last post in the "Reality" RPG.

[Batgirl_2005]

ooc: climbs out of the abyss of her absence.... BWAHAHA!!! I AM ALIVE!!! I'll post tomorrow. (today.. whatever...)

[Batgirl_2005]

ooc: climbs out of the abyss of her absence.... BWAHAHA!!! I AM ALIVE!!! I'll post tomorrow. (today.. whatever...) Promise

[JLU Dude]

Detective James Morgan:

I walk over to my desk and sit down. "MORGAN!!!" The Captain says. I walk over to his office.
"Yes, sir?" I ask.
"I want you to look into a gunrunning ring," he says.
"Any ideas of who's runnin' it?" I ask.
"No idea," he says. "That's where you come in. I want you to run a bust there and see who's in charge."
"That all?" I ask.
"I'll set up a team for you," he says. "It'll be tonight."
"Yes, sir," I says. I walk out and head back to my desk. I hear the noise around me. I used to be a honest cop. What went wrong? I sold out to a crimeboss, that's what.

[Batgirl_2005]

I reach Ethan's work. I'm not even holding back my tears now. There's now point. If Ethan's gone that's it for me.

I push my way through the crowd gathered outside so I get to the front. I duck under the tape but before I get two more steps Two cops grab my arms.

"No! Let me go! It could be Ethan!" I scream.

They hold my arms tight. Telling me to calm down. How am I supposed to calm down when one of my friends could be dead?

Finally I give up and collapse to my knees sobbing Ethan's name.

[Barb Gordon]

I guess I shouldn't be surprised that as Charlie and I pull up, there is already a massive crowd forming. Gawkers, everybody is one when something freaky happens. As we make our way to the crime scene, pushing through the crowd, I see a girl collapsed on her knees and sobbing. Great, just our luck, someone who probably knows the poor guy that is dead now. I make my way under the caution tape, squeezing inbetween cops who are trying to keep the crowd back a distance. I shut my eyes instinctively as we come upon the victim. Gross. And it looked like he was a pretty nice looking guy. How can someone do this to another human being? I've got to get this case cracked, and soon, this just can't keep happening. I smell a certain type of smoke, which belongs to only one guy, it's very easy to spot him.
"Hey, Bob."
I say with a nod, seeing Bob and the rookie a little farther up. I can still here the girl sobbing, even with everyone else murmuring. I sneak back under the caution tape and approach her. Can't beleive the other cops didn't deal with her already.
"Miss, are you going to be all right?"
I ask gently, kneeling down. She shakes her head furiously, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Do you think you know this victim? Can you tell me who you think it might be?"
For her sake, I hope it's not who she thinks it is.


Barb^-^

[Batgirl_2005]

I look up at the lady through blurry eyes. I squeeze my eyes shut trying to stop the tears.

"Ethan... Ethan Straight.... Oh god... Ethan...." Tears are still streaming down my face even though I try to stop.

I sit there for a few minutes calming myself down.

"I want to know if it's him or not.... Please..." I say quietly.

Suddenly I feel a familiar hand on my shoulder. Alex is standing behind me. I can see tears glistening in his eyes as well.

"Can we see if it's our friend?" I ask again, looking at the lady with pleading eyes.

[Harvey Dent]

OOC: Sorry I haven't been posting. Been busy with other stuff. I'll try to be more active now that I have a little more free time on my hands.

IC:
I sit in front of my desk, reading over the stories on the front page of The New York Times. Strife, bloodshed, disease...a typical day in world affairs. And right in the middle is another story about that copycat killer. I toss the paper off my desk and shake my head. I have no problems killing to get the job done, but there's no reason for this sort of thing. More importantly...there's no profit in it.

*BZZZZ*

I press the button on the intercom.

"What is it, Sally?"

"Mr. Douglas, you have a phone call from a Mr. Rupert Murdoch."

"Excellent. Put it through."

There's a click in the receiver, and Sally's plesant voice is replaced with a somewhat gruff tone.

"This is Murdoch. Who are you, and what the hell do you want from me?"

"You know who I am, Mr. Murdoch, and you know what I want. May I assume by your call that you are ready to negotiate?"

"Negotiate? Hah! I like what I got, and I ain't giving it up for anything."

"Even though you are losing a great deal of money on this...flight of fancy?"

"You've got a lot of nerve, Douglas. Now I'm gonna tell you again...I'm not interested in selling!"

"Maybe not now--"

"Not ever!"

The click and dial tone on the other end of the line tells me that this conversation is over. It also tells me that I'll need to do a lot more if I want my dream to come true. I press a few buttons on the phone.

"William, get the car ready. I'm coming down."

"Yes, sir."

I hang up the phone and get up. The sunset does little to calm my anger. As I exit my office with coat and hat in hand, I look ahead to tonight's events down at the Navy Yard. A new shipment of narcotics is coming in, and my presence is required to make sure that things go over well. I don't care much for drugs, but they bring in a substantial amount of cash, although I'm finding it harder and harder to keep this little piece of business under control. I suppose that tonight will be a perfect night then, to reinforce my control over this city. Bloomberg may be Mayor of this city, but Victor Douglas....or should I say Mr. X, is it's Master.

[Barb Gordon]

I sigh inwardly. I shouldn't be doing this, should they really see how this guy looks? Maybe I should tell them to wait till they've gotten him down to the morgue. I look at the girl again, and the older man who has joined her. They look so desperate.
"Just wait here, I'll be right back."
The guy is kinda cute. I shake my head. What a thought to think at a time like this. I come up behind Charlie who is looking over the police report,
"Chuck, do we have an identity yet?"
He glances over his shoulder to make a remark about my calling him Chuck, but he stops short when he see's my worried look.
"Sure, no problem."
He flips through a page or two and scans through the writing.
"Uh yeah...guy had a wallet, the name on the driver's license was Ethan...Ethan Straight. Yeah, that's the name. What's wrong?"
But I'm already turning back toward the crowd without answering Charlie. Oh god...god....I'm not supposed to do this kind of thing. Cops are supposed to go to the friends and family of the deceased, or a doctor..not a detective, certainly not me. I'm already stinging at the corner of my eyes, that last thing I need is for those two to see me crying. But I feel so bad for them. Damn this killer...I can't let this happen to anymore people! I chew my lip as I step a few feet away from the crowd, gesturing the girl and man to follow. I take a deep breath as they approach, but the girl takes one look at me straight in the eyes and she's knows. She bursts into tears again.
"I...I am really sorry. My partner told me that....the name, the man's name was Ethan Straight."
Even the man beside her starts to get tears streaming freely down his face. I can't take this much longer, or I'm going to start losing it too.


Barb^-^

[Batgirl_2005]

I lean against my guardians legs for support. Alex helps me stand up and I stay slightly behind him.

"Thank you mam." I hear Alex say. It's obvious he's upset, his voice is shaking violently. "I'm Alex Maxwell. This is my..." He pauses, not sure what to call me. Finally I guess he gave in, "My daughter Kyala. IS there anything we need to do, if not I think I'll take Key home." A sob escapes his mouth. I've never heard him cry before. It's scaring me.

[Barb Gordon]

Christ, it's taking everything in me to keep from latching on to the both of them, they look so distraught. I've never had to deal with this kind of thing...but then again, I haven't been out of rookie status THAT long.
"Uh..."
I search my mind, trying to figure out how to answer.
"Why don't you give me a number and address of where I can reach you? That way if anything comes up where we need to ask you some information, I can find you. Would that be all right?"
As I talk I fumble around in my overcoat pocket. Aha! Thank goodness for mom always telling me to be prepared. I quickly whip out the packaged tissues, almost happily, and thrust them into the girl's hands. She mumbles a thank you as she rips open the package and grabs out a few tissues.
"Would you like me to drive both of you somewhere? I'm not sure I'd really want either of you behind a wheel right now..."


Barb^-^

[Batgirl_2005]

I look at the lady searching for my voice, thankfully Alex pipes up.

"Ummmm....If you're not too busy that would be great... But surely you need to stay here and help..." His voice trails off.

"If you would like to then that would be fine. If you can't we'll get a taxi." I say quietly, I'm not sure whether either of them heard me or not.

[Barb Gordon]

I shake my head firmly.
"No, no. I insist. And beleive me, one less dectective here right now wont be missed. Just give me a moment."
And with that I dash back into the crowd which, I swear, as grown. I come up behind Charlie, who is giving orders to a few cops and looking over some papers, and reach into his jacket pocket.
"Why hello there."
He says in a teasing voice.
"Oh cool it. I'm not coming on to you if that's what you think. I'll meet you back at the station....and you'll have to find a ride back there 'cause I'm taking the car."
"Wha?"
He responds in surprise as I snatch the keys from his pocket before he has a chance to react and run out to the sidewalk.
"Come on."
I say to the two people, who I realize I don't know their names.
"I'm Samantha by the way, you can just call be Sam, or Sammy...everyone does."
I continue as I walk over to the driver's side and unlock the doors.


Barb^-^

[Batgirl_2005]

Alex gets into the car and I sit on his lap. I close the door as Alex begins talking.

"I'm Alex Maxwell..." He says. " This is my...." He pauses, not sure of what to call me. Finally I guess he gives in. "This is my daughter Kyala."

"We live on Manson Street. In the trailer park."

[Harvey Dent]

I sit back in my seat and look out the left window of my Rolls Royce. In the distance, I can see the Manhattan Bridge and the lights from a train as it crosses the bridge into Brooklyn. Watching that train rumble through the night stirs up memories of baseball. More specifically, memories of my father taking me to Yankee Stadium to see our beloved Bums take on Stengal's squad. It was the seventh game of the World Series, and it was a fantastic game. After all those years of waiting, and telling anybody who would listen, "Wait until next year", it finally happened. The Dodgers beat those damn Yankees to win their first World Championship. It was the happiest day of my life, and when dad and I got back to Brooklyn, we ran over to Ebbets Field and had one hell of a party with the rest of the fans. That was way back in 1955. Can't believe it's been 47 years.

"Mr. Douglas?"

"What?"

I shake my head, trying to pull myself back to the real world.

"Mr. Douglas, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I was just...thinking about the good ol' days."

"Well, we'll be arriving at the Navy Yard in about 20 minutes."

"Thank you, William."

William Valentine, chaufer and personal bodyguard. Cortlandt may be my right-hand man, but Bill makes sure that my right hand stays, along with the rest of me, stays intact. I would expect nothing less from an ex-SEAL, especially one who was in Vietnam. Under normal circumstances, a man like him wouldn't have a thing to do with me, but when you save a guy's life, he becomes your best friend. Of course, I don't have a best friend, and I wouldn't want Bill to be one. He's with me because he knows how to "take out the trash", and he's a damn good driver.

"I'm going to close my eyes for a bit. Let me know when we get there."

"Yes, sir."

Once again, I lean back in my seat and close my eyes, letting my subconscious take me back to the joys of yesteryear.

[Barb Gordon]

I can't help but think that they make a wonderful father/daughter image. And I can't help but wonder whether this Ethan fellow was a family member, like a brother and a son, or just a very close friend. I'm tempted to ask, but I bite my tongue, now is not the time to be Miss Great Detective. A very quiet car ride later and I pull into the trailer park. I think the only time I've been in a place like this was to investigate abuse or murder cases, and I find myself being even more on guard. Charlie will probably rag on me when I get back to the station for taking the car without an explanation for doing so. Well, he'll just have to deal, this was an emergency, of sorts. I cut the ignition and turn to the two of them, it looks like the girl has fallen asleep against Alex's shoulder.
"Well, here we are."
I say softly, getting out of the car and coming around to open the passenger door so Alex can get out while carrying Kayla.
"And please,"
I begin, whipping out a pen and paper,
"If you feel the need, just call me,all right? This is my home, cell and work number. If you call the station, just ask for Samantha and they'll put you through. I'm terribly sorry for the ordeal that you are going through..."
And I'm terribly sorry I keep rambling on, I think to myself, hearing myself trail off.


Barb^-^

[Batgirl_2005]

I fell asleep in Alex's arms but soon find myself awake cradled against his chest. He is saying something to Sam.

"Thank you for the ride..." He says taking a paper from her. "We'll be calling you... I'm suer Key will be needing someone to talk to."

I push against his chest slightly and he sets me down. I rub my eyes and look at Samantha.

"Would you like to come in for a minute for... a drink of sorts?"

[Barb Gordon]

"uh.."
I stutter...geesh, I'm having a major brain meltdown right now. Well, if I haven't been unbusiness like enough, why not do it some more? But, this is an unusual circumstance, isn't it? Hell, let's just say I'm on break still. I've obviously managed to find my voice since I hear myself speaking a moment later.
"Sure, all right?"
Thst sounded like such a lame response, way to go Sam. Kayla leads the way to the house...uh...trailer....mmm...to the door. I follow behind Alex, glancing around my sides at the others residences. My trained eyes looking over everything in the surrounding area that I can see without looking odd while doing so. Wow, and I thought my apartment was small...it's massive compared to the inside of this place--I can't help but think as I enter the house after the two of them. Am I in the living room? Or is it the kitchen...hell I could be in the bedroom for all I know. I find myself standing in the doorway cautiously and with a timid stance. Oh yes, I'm such a great detective.


Barb^-^

[Batgirl_2005]

I see a picture of Ethan and I sitting on the table and nearly break down again. I flip it so I can't see it and go over to the tiny fridge that sits upon the counter in the tiny kitchen.

"Have a seat on one of the beds." Alex says. I can see out of the corner of my eye as he gestures toward the couches which he and Ethan slept on.

"We have coke... and... sprite... and..." I stop, deciding not to mention the alcoholic beverages Alex and Ethan have crammed in here. I myself hate alcohol. Never touch it. "Root beer... Milk... Chocolate milk...." My voice trails off.

[Harvey Dent]

"Mr. Douglas. Mr. Douglas?"

I open my eyes and see William looking back at me from the driver's seat.

"What is it?"

"We're here."

I turn my head and look out the window. That's the Navy Yard all right. There's no mistaking it's decaying look.

"Let's go."

I open the door and step out of the car. The cold wind that comes off the river blows some discarded newspapers and other junk across the ground, but the breeze doesn't affect me. I've been coming here for too long to allow something like that to happen.

It doesn't take us long to reach the old production plant. It's dimly lit, and I find myself having to squint to see just where the hell I'm going. Funny, because I don't remember having that problem before.

"Looking for something?"

Suddenly, I find a bright light shining in my face.

"What the hell?"

The light dims a little, and as I regain focus, I see that William and I are not alone. Eleven men stand before us, and right in the middle...

"Arnold Thomas."

"Good evening, Victor. Fancy meeting you out here."

"I'm actually impressed, Arnold. I didn't think a greaseball like you could actually set up a fake deal to lure me into a trap, which is what I'm assuming this is."

I can tell by the look on his face that he didn't like my greaseball crack too much, but he quickly regains his composure.

"You should watch what you say, Victor. You are outnumbered, after all."

The ten guys behind him pull out their guns and cock them, then aim them at William and myself.

"What do you want Thomas?"

"Control of the Syndicate."

I laugh out loud, but it only upsets him even more.

"This is no laughing matter!"

"Oh, but it is! You seem to think that a little rodent like you could possibly take control of an organization that I spent the better part of my life in, and I find it funny. Hilarious, even."

"Dammit, you have no business running it! I should be in charge, not you!"

"You were never even a part of the game, Thomas. You only thought you were. Big crime boss. You were on life support before you blackmailed that cop, and he was the only thing that kept you in business. How you ever managed to fool him into thinking that you were actually somebody amazes me."

Now I've done it. He's really upset now.

"Fine. If you won't give me what I want, then I'll just take it!"

[Barb Gordon]

OOC: I have to say that I'm just having a lot of fun in the RPG. I think it's going really well, hope everyone else is having a good time!

IC:

I would say water, but who knows what running through the water system in this kind of area. God..what a rude thought that is, I could just smack myself....except that would look very weird.
"A Sprite would be just fine, thanks."
I say as I go over to where Alex gestures. A bed as he calls it, look more like one of those pull out kind of beds that also can be a couch...I would assume I'm in the living room/bedroom.
"So uh, Alex...what do you do for a living?"


Barb^-^

[Batgirl_2005]

I hear Alex hesitate. Alex's last job lasted two weeks. He was working at a Circle K. That was almost a month ago.

"I ummm... Don't really have a job right now..." He says quietly. "I haven't quite found my... Forte yet."

"It doesn't help that you didn't finish highschool, Alex." I mutter, handing Samantha a Sprite.

He shoots me a glare that screams at me to shut up. So I do. I sit down on the bed Ethan used to sleep on, my knees into my chest and a Root Beer in my hand.

[Freza Resurrected]

OOC: Sorry I haven't posted lately. I've been interested in the Sam/Kayla thing and I wasn't really wanting to interrupt. I will post something later but I'm having trouble figuring out what time it is in the rpg.

[Barb Gordon]

OOC: As in what time of day, or just what day in general in reference to when we started? I think it's only been about two-three days.

IC:

If he'd given me puppy-dog eyes just then, I probably would have hugged him for being so absolutely pathetic. Of course I'm the pathetic one here, boy do I wish I was back with Charlie. A single girl whose surrounded by dorks all day and who hasn't had a date in....it would be too depressing to think about how long it's been.
"You could always try your hand at law enforcement..."
I say, trying to joke a little. I give Alex a half smile as he glances at me...I'm thinking my attempt at a joke flopped big time. I revert my eyes to the floor and take a sip of the Sprite.


Barb^-^

[Freza Resurrected]

OOC:Actually this has all happened in the same day which makes it pretty exciting. I'm thinking it's about 8 or 9 o'clock but I'm not sure.

[Batgirl_2005]

I would laugh if I weren't about to start crying staring at Ethan's cd case... Alex smirks slightly at Sam.

"I don't normally get along with cops... I've had a few too many run ins.." He says then as an after thought. "The last one is the most interesting.."

I glance up as a solitery tears strolls down my cheek.

Is he talking about Ethan... Or when my mother called the police because she thought he had raped me. Yes... That had been amusing. While my mother was trying to get Alex in trouble she got herself in trouble. I shrug it off and sit close to Alex. He wraps an arm around my shoulder as a protective gesture not a romantic one.

[Barb Gordon]

Oh wonderful, I think sarcastically. I'm sitting in an old run down trailer park, with a guy who doesn't have a good repore with cops, just where I want to be. It's amazing what a ***** I can be, in my thoughts at least. These people just lost someone that was very very dear to them, and all I can do is be rude.
"Oh!"
I exclaim, jumping up from my seat and almost unsettling the Sprite I had set down. They both look at me in wonder, probably think I just went nuts or something. I quickly snatch off the vibrating cell phone that was hooked to my belt. Quickly I flip it open and put it up to my ear.
"What?"
I snap in a slightly irritated voice.
"So just where the hell are you?!"
Come Charlie's voice on the other end. I sigh, rubbing my eyes with my free hand.
"Not now, Charles, I'm busy, all right? I'll talk with you when I get back."
"But--"
I don't wait to hear what else Charlie has to say before I turn off my phone. He is going to be fuming when I get back. And he doesn't deserve that. Charles is a good cop, a great friend, and a fantastic partner, and right now I'm doing everything in my power to ruin all that. Why? For some poor people in a trailer park? Why am I here anyway? More to the point, why have I stayed here so long? I realize, probably a little too late, that Kayla and Alex are staring at me while I've been thinking to myself. I quickly sit down,
"Sorry..."
I mumble.


Barb^-^

[Freza Resurrected]

It's amazing how dark the city can be. So many lights but still there is an overwhelming darkness that consumes everything. The body is..somewhere. Covered up I hope..I hope I don't have to see it. The CSI is picking up the pictures scattered on the sidewalk. One man picked one up and ran with it. Some kind of sick momento. Nobody even went after him either, I supose we have enough pictures in all. I sweep my eyes across the cracked concrete..trying to count as many photographs as I can without actually seeing what is on them. Fourteen...and the glimpses..there isn't much of a body left. Nothing that looks human anyway.
Bob walks from behind me and taps me on the shoulder. "I think that this has been a long day."
I nod my head in agreement.

He coughs and then looks back at me "These things don't end in a couple of days. Most of these cases go on for years but right now is the best time we have to catch him. Soon he..they will stop and when they stop..we stop." he frowns and walks away.
"If you feel like helping anymore then stay. If not, go home and get some rest."

I look back at the crime scene and then back at Bob who is talking to some other officers. Do I leave him?

[Batgirl_2005]

I glance at Sam. She's uncomfortable and it's obvious. Not that I blame her.

"If you need to get back to work, we'll understand." I say, nudging Alex with my elbow. He seems to get the message.

"Yeah... Thank you for the ride home... And the phone numbers. If we need anything we'll give you a call."

I stand up and pull a piece of paper off a tablet we always keep for writing notes to each other. I scribble our phone number down and hand it to Sam.

"If for some reason you need us for anything, here's the number." I say quietly.

"Yeah.... Kyala and I are probably just going to head to bed. It's been a long day..." Alex's voice trailed off...

[Barb Gordon]

I inwardly smiled at Kayla, she had perfectly read my mind without my feeling rude. I took the paper from her and shoved it into one of my coat's pockets.
"Thanks for the Sprite. And I'll make sure to call you if and when there comes a need. And feel free to do the same."
I shook Kayla's and then Alex's hand--he had a pretty firm grip. And then I somewhat quickly hightailed to my car. I finally sighed loudly as I was heading back to the station. Boy was I going to have a lot of explaining to do when I saw Charlie. All too soon I reached the station. I made sure to take my time parking and walking up the stairs and to my desk. Charlie was there, sitting in my chair actually, waiting. There are few times when I've seen Charlie, shall we say...pissed...and here was one of those times now.
"Sam, just what the hell have you been doing?"
He hissed as he spotted me.
"It's not like you to just up and leave a crime scene, and then just take the car without any explanation. You could get fired for this! What were you thinking?"
I couldn't think of a single thing to say. For the life of me no logical reasons could come to mind. Just why had I gone off like I did, and even stayed and talked with them? It wasn't like me, nor was what I could feel coming. I could feel the corners of my eyes begin to itch.
"I'm sorry Charlie."
I said hoarsely.
"Sorry isn't going to cut it Sam, and you damn well know it."
I kept my eyes riveted to the ground, feining interest at my shoes, hoping that my heart would get out of my throat.
"Sam...?"
I glanced up at Charlie, my vision was blurred, but I could tell that his look had gone to one of anger to one of confusion. He reached out and touched my arm, and I lost it. Tears just pored down my cheeks and my body began to shake. I rushed into Charlie's arms and he wrapped his arms protectively around me.
"Sam?!"
He whispered in alarm.
"What's wrong?"
I didn't know what was wrong. There were just too many thoughts in my head, nothing was making any sense. All I knew was that all the pressure I was giving myself with the two cases assigned to me, on top of what happened today, had been harping on me so much, both mentally and physically, more than I had realized, that I had break down. I was so grateful at the moment that no one was on our floor.
"Samantha, please....Sammy look at me."
Charlie pleaded with me, forcing me to stare him in the eyes. It looked like he was scared to death, I couldn't blame him. He wiped a few tears away with his hands as he kissed my forehead. He frowned, laying a hand softly on my forehead.
"You feel really hot..."
He murmered, more to himself than to me.
"Come on, I'll take you home."
That was it. No more questions, no more prodding, no more anger. And just what was wrong with me? It was driving me insane, and more confusing and jumbled thoughts were the last thing I needed right now. I closed my eyes tightly and nodded. Charlie than half carried and half led me down to the car.


Barb^-^

[Harvey Dent]

I'll say this about Arnold; he's very persistent. However, I was getting pretty annoyed with him, and the look on my face told him so.

"Look, I really don't have time for your games, so either shoot me already or go the hell away. You've already wasted too much of my time."

"That's it. THAT'S IT!!!"

Arnold and his boys raise their guns and point them at William and me. Guess this is the end of the line after all. Funny that I should die in the same place that ultimately led to my father's death. If that isn't irony, then I just don't understand the term.

"Think again, Thomas!!!"

Our executioners spin around in the direction of the voice, giving William and I the window we were looking for. We dive to either side of the room and land behind some crates. I pull out my gun and give the order.

"NOW!!!"

Before Thomas can figure out what just happened, a hail of gunfire erupts from the far side of the factory. William follows my lead and we open fire from behind Thomas' goons. The poor bastards are caught in the crossfire and are shot to pieces. Thomas, who was in the middle of it all got two bullets in the stomach, one in the chest, and one in the back from me. He crumbled to the ground and fell on his back.

"That's enough!"

The gunfire ceases, and I come out from behind the crates. I walk towards the center of the room and look towards the far end. A group of about six guys come from the other end and step into the light.

"Good work, Michael. Remind me to give you a raise."

Michael steps in front of the guys and places his gun back in his coat.

"I'm just doing my job, Mr. Douglas...no matter how much disdain I have for it."

I ignore Michael's jab and stand over Thomas' head. His eyes meet mine, and he tries to speak, but the only thing that comes out of his mouth is blood.

"Understand this..."

I aim my gun at Thomas' head.

"I will not be bullied or intimidated by pieces of crap like you. And do you know why?"

He tries to speak, but he can only answer with a gurgle.

"Because you are nothing. You were nothing the day you were born, you were nothing the day you turned to a life of crime, and even now, as the fluids pour out of your body, you are still...nothing. This is my city, and you don't deserve to live in it."

I pull the trigger and end his miserable existence. I then look up at Michael.

"Mr. Courtlandt, call the police and give them an annonymous tip regarding what just took place here. And do it fast."

Michael nods and walks away with his guys. I put my gun back in my trenchcoat and look at William.

"Do you feel like Italian, because I'm starving!"

Willam smiles and we walk back to the car. God, I love this city.

[Freza Resurrected]

Sitting on the rusty fire escape I watch across the street as the two beauties laugh at something on television. I don't think they are sisters. Just best friends sharing an apartment. I take the camera out of my black bag and snap a picture of the blonde lying on the bed with blue sheets. It's a tiny window..I wish I could manage to get them both in one shot but it is rare. I did get one shot a few nights ago with the fake blonde playing with the real blonde's hair. I pull the photo from the camera and wave it in the air. The girl slowly appears on the photo and my heart starts pounding. I'm so annxious to have them! Tomorrow night..definately tomorrow.

[jacknapier27]

OOC: I would like to join this RPG as Lenny Briscoe and Ed Green from Law & Order and after a couple of posts have them introduce my main character.

[Barb Gordon]

OOC: Sounds great, and I'm a HUGE fan of Law and Order...but this is a reality rpg. We're not taking characters from tv shows or anything, even the realistic ones. I suppose I would be okay with you doing that, but we need to check with everyone else first.

~Barb

[Freza Resurrected]

OOC: Don't use the law and order guys. Tell us more about your character and later on I or someone else can use our characters to introduce yours. If he's a cop, Greg and Bob could enter the station one day and Bob could see your character and say something like "Greg, this is Moe. You can trust him with your life but don't touch his left hand."

[jacknapier27]

OOC: That's fine if you don't want me to use Briscoe and Green, I'll just make up some cops instead, if that's okay. Oh and sorry about starting this chain of out of character posts.

[Barb Gordon]

OOC: No prob, and sounds great! And hey, my two cop characters are just leaving the station, you could introduce your guy(s) there by just driving into the station or something. Now let's get this RPG going strong again!

~Barb

[Freza Resurrected]

I've driven many blocks and surprisingly there has been no traffic. None at all. Drops of rain hit my windshield but it isn't enough for me to turn on the wipers. I'm so unbelievably tired that I run past two red lights. I just want to get to my apartment and sleep. I'm sick of looking at dead bodies and smelling cigarette smoke.

[The Guitar Slayer]

OOC: Pardon me if I cut in....is it alright if I post as a couple of traveling street musicians? I was just wondering if the additon of a few more characters would be good right now. I'm thinking about a guy and a girl, maybe occasional drug users, definitely wanderers...for whatever reason, Jay and Silent Bob keep popping into my head, but that's not what I want them to end up like.

Anyway, it's late, but I'll have them better thought out tomorrow.

[Mattashell]

Welcome aboard. This has been dead, I've been to bussy/lazy lately, but I promise to post in character real soon. Let's get the ball rolling guys.

[Freza Resurrected]

OOC: It's great to see people coming back. I was starting to think everyone else working on this project had died or something.

[Barb Gordon]

Yeah! I think for this particular RPG, being how it's an original one that we're all working with off the top of our heads, that more characters from whomever, even if there for just one post, is great. Glad to have them! And yes, for a moment I thought this place was dead too...I've just been very busy with school ending and making sure all my grades were in tip top shape, but now I have a lot more time, so I'll post soon.

~Barb

[The Guitar Slayer]

OOC: My folks are going to semi-regular. They'll make sporadic, occasional appearances, kinda like Jay and Silent Bob did in Clerks.

Cassidy and Sundance --- Jade Cassidy and James Sundance "Kid" (assumed stage names) are two street musicians in NYC. Cassidy, a former valedictorian, has roamed from the beaten path and followed her muse since her graduation five years ago. Cassidy is short, sleek, and one of the best pickpockets in NYC. She's why you put your wallet in your front pocket and attach it with a chain. She could be a Latina, could be Russian, could be a Greek...there's is something you can't place about her.

She teamed up with Sundance at a bus stop in Leonardo, NJ. Sundance is older than Cassidy by about 5 years. He's not one to take advantage of his partner in crime, life, and love. Sundance is not 'handsome'; he is art. Beautiful by any standards, man or woman...thus, this poor guy is constantly hit on by both sexes. He prefers Cassidy over all. The two of them are semi-homeless, sometimes sleeping on the subway, other times in motels or tenements, but never in one place for too long. They do partake in various illicit substances, but they aren't hard core addicts; they aren't into smack or crack. Because they are performers, Cassidy and Sundance take care of their appearance; they don't look homeless. However, both don't exactly have money for hair cuts, so Sundance's is down past his collar and Jade's is a signficant length.

The duo play a variety of instruments, whatever is portable. If there is a bandstand set up nearby with a piano, they'll use that until the cops come in and bust them. Even the cops are reluctant to break up the party...they do a lot of old tunes from the 1960s, peace, love, and rock.

IC: Cassidy

"...When we get back, I'll drop a line!" I let my voice echo over the park's fields from the bandshell and I hit the final chords in "The Crystal Ship." Applause and money are thrown in by the audience. Sundance signals me from the side of the tree and disappears: cops are comin'. I hop off the piano stool, grab our cash, and dash down the steps.

A man in a trench coat stands in my path. I dart around him and reach into his pockets. Spare cash...not a bad wad. I continue to run til I'm out of the crowd. I look for him momentarily, then find him. Sundance has a cab already. Not a yellow one, but a horse drawn one. One of these days, his ass will be busted for impersonating someone or something. He tips his hat at me. I climb in and pass him the money, like any paying customer. We ride right by the cops; they never noticed.

I laugh and gloat as I pull myself into the seat beside Sundance. He hasn't shaved in the last few days, so when he kisses me, his bristles scatch my face. "Hey, honey."

"So, where we goin'?" The horse trots down the cement pathways further into the park. Pretty soon, they'd be closing the gates for the night.

"We're staying here for the night. Then we go out into the Districts." Sundance is a man of few words. "They got some events coming up, and I hear we're in demand."

"Nice to be wanted some place." I lean back and grab the blanket. It's chilly this time of year, and I tend to feel it more than he does.

"Indeed." He wraps the blanket around us as the horse turns into the stable. Mickey gives us the okay sign and we are pulled into the carriage garage. Our friend closes the doors behind us as he leads the horse to its stall.

Before I can say anything, Sundance quickly says, "I know it's not the best, but hey, it's shelter. The cops are really cracking down on vagrants like ourselves, so Mickey was a safe bet tonight." He looks at me anxiously. He knows damn well I can leave him for a better life. He also knows that I wouldn't. I give him a half-grin and nod. He returns the grin.

A small latern burns in the corner of the shed. It doesn't provide much warmth at all. The lightbulbs in here are long dead. "I just hope I don't freeze to death tonight, Kid," I sigh melodramtically, baiting him.

"Oh, I don't think you will." Sundance pulls us into the bigger, more comfortable back seat of the carriage.

OOC: This was just an intro to my people. They're heading over to the action soon. The District refers to the area where all the crimes are taking place. Unfortunately, Cassidy and Sundance don't know that...so who knows what they'll walk into 'tomorrow morning.'

[Barb Gordon]

"Charlie....are you smoking?"
I can see Charlie's form quickly shift position so that his back is to me, but I can see his hand dart to and from his mouth.
"Uh...no..."
He respods lamely from the terrace of my apartment. In the cold I can see a stream of smoke leave his nose.
"You're such a crappy liar."
I say, raising myself from my spot on the bed. I must have fallen asleep on the way the my place because Charlie had placed me in my bed and let me sleep for a good three hours. I felt a lot better than I did earlier today, though still troubled by numerous thoughts.
"I thought you quit months ago."
"And what makes you think I didn't?"
Charlie asked, coming into the apartment again.
"Because you reek of smoke from ten feet away."
I say, and promptly plugging my nose. Charlie blushes,
"Sorry."
He mumbles, and he heads for my bathroom. I hear him gargling mouthwash for a good five minutes before he reappears.
"better?"
He asks, placing himself at the foot of my bed. I nod,
"Much....and my perfume smells better on you then I think it does on me!"
I say, unable to hold back a grin. He rolls his eyes,
"Oh shut up, I got rid of the smell, didn't I?"
His grin softened and his face grew serious.
"So...uh, are you all right Sam? You seriously scared the hell out of me earlier today at the station."
I sighed, sitting up Indian style among my bed covers.
"Yeah, at least I think so. I dunno, I honestly don't know. Guess I've just been putting too much pressure on myself with these two cases. I want to get these creeps so badly--"
"But you getting sick isn't going to help things Sam, you know better than that."
Charlie butted in.
"I know! I know.....I've just let these cases get too personal and too important to me. I mean, I actually went to friends of a victim's home, and I still can think of a reason why!"
"....personal."
Charlie breathed. I was lost,
"What are you talking about?"
"Oh come on Sam, don't play dumb with me here. It was so damn easy to see the way you looked at that guy."
"Alex?"
"See what I mean?! You still know the guy's name and everything. You were flirting with him."
I made a move to protest, but stopped. Because then it hit me, Charlie was right. I'd actually gotten a crush on someone, not only right in the middle of two huge cases, but to someone that knew one of the victims! Not the brightest thing for me to do, that's for sure. Charlie moved from the edge of the bed over to me, seating himself right next to me.
"You know Sam, you and I have been partners for a long time."
I nodded silently.
"And I would do anything for you, you know that right?"
nod.
"For my sake, would you please stop thinking about those two people you took home today unless it has to do with the case? I don't think you need to get involved with people like them, and you'd be better forgetting any feelings you have for that Alex guy right now."
He said it with such pleading and forcefulness in his voice that I was slightly taken aback. All I could do was nod for the third time. Charlie gave half a grin to my silent response and he leaned over and kissed the top of my forehead.
"You fever's down."
He said, getting to his feet.
"I need to get home and get some rest myself. Why don't you stay home for a day or so?"
"But-"
"Not but's, Sam. I've already got it cleared, so let me rephrase what I said...you will still home and get some rest. I'll come check on you during one of my breaks tomorrow. See you later."
And with that he grabbed his coat and let himself out of my apartment.


~Barb

[Batgirl_2005]

I walk into the living room where Alex is. He's sitting on his bed (a couch....) with his head in his hands, sobbing quietly. I walk over to him and kneel down.

"I'm really sorry..." I say quietly. He frowns at me.

"Why? It's not like it's your fault." He says.

"Yeah it is... He didn't even want to go to work. He was going to call in sick because I was a little shaken up over what we saw today... But I told him that he had to go in and get his own mind off of it. It's my fault Ethan went to work." I say. Alex hugs me and pulls me into his lap like I was a little kid.

"Key... Don't do this to yourself. It's nobody's fault but the killer's. Now go to bed."

I shake my head. "Why don't you take the bed tonight. I like sleeping on couches when I'm upset."

"No. It's your room, it wouldn't be right."

"Listen up, Al. You're my guardian. That pretty much makes you my dad. And kids are supposed to care for their parents. That's all I'm doing now get your butt in bed."

Alex smiles weakly and hugs me again. Then he heads to bed. I watch him go before my body starts shaking.

I put my face in my hands and cry. After several minutes I stand up and go over to the "kitchen". Even though the trailer is small it has one window that has a great view of the city lights. (One of the best "make-out points" in the city is right outside...) I climb up on the counter and look out at the lights and remember sitting in Ethan's car talking and... other things. I reach for the phone and dial Eric's cell phone number.

"Hello?" He answers.

"Hey you."

"Ummm... Key... I was just baout to call you. I heard about Ethan and I... ummm... I just... I don't think you can handle having a boyfriend and all the grief you're going through... so... And also... I met someone else.. I shouldn't have told you that. Anyway... If you ever need to talk you can call me. Let's still be friends." He hangs up on me.

I turn the phone off as a tear rolls down my cheek. I look over at the table with Sam's number on it. Alex liked her... And his girlfriend's breaking up with him... I wonder if I should hook them up....

This isn't time for Key the Matchmaker. This is time for Key the friend. Maybe later on you could hook Sam and Al up, but right now.... I tell myself.

Then again Alex wouldn't get along with Sam for too long.. Al has never gotten along with cops.

I go over and lay down on the couch... Real comfortable... This is the first time I've missed my old house.. The couch was so comfortable. I smile...

I try to go to sleep but it's not working. I stand up and go to my room. I slip into the bed next to Alex and fall asleep.

[Harvey Dent]

OOC: Sorry I've been away for so long. Can't believe I haven't been keeping tabs on this. :o

IC:

It's amazing how one conversation can rouse national interest.

In the past five hours, I've received calls and emails from various media outlets from around the country asking me to confirm rumors that I was interested in not only purchasing the Los Angeles Dodgers, but moving them back to Brooklyn as well. My answer to the questions was the standard "No comment" tag, but that line never satisfies anyone. The radio talk shows have been having a field day with the rumors, and TV news reports feature people with various opinions on the matter. Not suprising, people in Brooklyn are estatic while the Los Angeles crowd is fuming.

Meanwhile, New York's underworld has gotten pretty quiet after the news of Arnold Thomas' death spread. The police have no suspects, other than the elusive criminal mastermind that is known as Mr. X. And it doesn't help when no one knows what the hell he looks like. The NYPD will just run around in circles, adding invisible crime lords to their ever-growing list of problems. Hey, it's not my fault they're so inept.

So, here I sit in my office occupying the top floor of the Chrystler Building. One obstacle removed, and one childhood dream a few steps away from coming true. I look up towards the ceiling and smile.

"This one's for you, Dad."

[Barb Gordon]

(next day)
I stare at the ceiling, glaring at a crack I see in it. My eyes travel along it's path which leads to the left, curves a bit, heads for the bathroom, makes a sharp turn and run's into where the wall and ceiling meet. I am so bored. I was only able to amuse myself with the newspaper and reading for so long, I guess I had never realized what a workaholic I was till now. But I am so anxious to be back at work, but at the same time I know that a day off is exactly what I need. That, and maybe getting out of this apartment, being cooped up is not my cup of tea. 20 minutes later the bed is made, apartment cleaned up, I'm dressed and heading outside. There's nothing like that first intake of breath of the cold, stale and dirty city air at...oh, 5 in the morning as I glance at my watch. I retie the laces of my tennis shoes before heading off down the street to the horse stables nearby Central Park.


~Barb

Yeah I know it's short, still thinking *ouch* on where this is going.

[Mattashell]

I found Chris by the McDonalds near Tower Records in the Village. “Hey Chris”

Chris: Hey it’s you dude.

MH: Yeah, it’s me. I need to talk to you. I’m getting the kids together, the ones strong enough, and we’re getting a patrol together. It’s not a gang, we’re just gonna protect our own until things get better with all these murders going on.

Chris: Yeah right! Who are you gonna get.

MH: I already have Sean and his crew.

Chris: Sean? You mean La Sean? That dude is trouble. Count me out.

MH: I don’t like it either, but we need all the help we can get. He brings a lot of muscle to the group, but I need you too, You’re not a junkie, not crazy, and you’re not sick. Unfortunately that makes you one of the strong among us. Most of the street kids in this city are too messed up to be any use.

Chris: Forget it, I’m a lover not a fighter. (he grins widely at his own lame joke)

MH: I know you’d rather not do anything with your life besides hang out and try to pick up suburban girls who come here to gawk at you. Wake up man, you can either help me protect the weak ones, or you can protect yourself from me.

Chris: Hey, wait man, this isn’t cool!

We are interrupted by a scream and a gunshot. We both run around the corner to see. A woman is screaming and a young cop is on the ground conscious, but bleeding profusely from his gut.

MH: What happened here?

Lady: That man stole my purse. Some cop saw it and got out of his car and he shot him.

MH: Let’s get him into the car.

Chris: Wait, we aren’t supposed to move him.

MH: He’ll bleed to death. We have to get him to a hospital.

Lady: What about my purse?

MH: Lady, this guy is gonna die because of your damn purse.

We got him into the car and the key was in the ignition.

Chris: Do you know how to drive?

I remember taking driver’s ed in high school, before everything changed. I saw the picture of the guy in the paper shortly after the incident. The police were looking for me and this guy commented to Newsday, about how troubled I was. About my suicidal tendencies. Of course I had slashed my wrists up, but I never really intneded to open any vein. I just wanted attention because of the emotional pain I was in.. Then I was so ashamed of it I tried to cover it up by wearing long sleeves. This guy, Glazer was his name, was my seventh grade health teacher, a real professor of puberty, and he also taught driver’s ed when I was older. Just this year. Just before the incedent, the incedent when my parents died, that was when I got kicked out for missing an early morning class. He never reached out to me. Never let on that he noticed the slashes. But he was quick to tell the papers all about it, exploiting my pain for a few seconds of fame. Then I came home that day and found my dad had come home early and beaten her bad. I thought I’d gotten used to it, but he threw her down all those stairs and then. She wasn’t breathing. I lost control. I gave him everything I’d learned at the dojo, and then. And then both my parents were dead. I had to go away. The wounds didn’t scar, and I’m glad about it because I am ashamed. I was so confused then, so hurt, after my first and only girlfriend dumped me. She was richer then me, and one weekend she took a trip to hawaii and she met a guy there. He was almost forty years old, and she had sex with him. He was her first. An honer she’d once promised to me. If it weren’t bad enough, The person it turned out to be made everything worse. I can’t even stand to think about that part of it though. How messed up I was. How much she hurt me. How much I loved her. Nicole.

Nicole.

DON”T THINK ABOUT THAT MAN! That was another world, another life. Those memories belong to someone else now. That’s another past that belongs to another person and I can never go back. Things are different now. The street is my world now. The street is my life.

We get to the hospital and Chris and I carry they guy toward the emergency room entrance. With each of us on one shoulder the guy can walk a little. Two orderlies come out with a stretcher and lay him down on it. One of them asks me my name.

MH: I can’t talk right now. I have someplace to be.

I start to walk briskly away. Some cops yell for me to stop and I run. I look over my shoulder and see them talking to Chris. That fink is going to get me busted.

[Freza Resurrected]

It's five AM...what the hell am I doing awake at five AM? The sound of a loud explosion comes from the living room or living room slash kitchen. I rub my eyes and crawl out of bed. I walk into the room to see Arnie playing some sort of videogame on his big screen television. His dad is loaded so Arnie can have pretty much anything he wants.

"Ya know, working people are still asleep at five in the morning."

He pauses the game and turns his head in my direction "I don't work." he says with a grin and then he starts playing again.

He doesn't even look tired. After I stand there for long enough he pauses the game scratches the blonde top of his head and looks at me. The guy's hair is blonde on top red on the sides and black on the back. I guess he thinks it makes him look cool.

"Well? Somethings on your mind so..what's troublin' you my niga?"

"Don't say that." I sigh.

"Why not?"

"One your not black, two I'm not black, and three our neighbor is black and he would be glad to kick your ass."

He laughs "Good point. So what do you have to say?"

"I already told you. It's five in the morning I have night shift tonight and donkey kong over here is keeping me awake so turn it down or turn it off."

He raises his arm and points his index finger at the tv "That is not donkey kong! Donkey Kong is on the Nintendo which is located in my room. This is an X-Box not to be confused with the PS2 located beside the X-Box. This is Spider-Man the movie!"

"Just turn it down." I say as I walk back to my room.

"Sure will officer Hinrich!" he yells back sarcastically.


He did turn down the volume but now I can't fall back asleep. Maybe... The phone rings... it rings two more times. I wish Arnold would pick up the phone! He doesn't. I pick it up on the fourth ring and it's someone I don't know.

"Officer Hinrich?"

"Um..no..uh detec...uh yeah,yeah this is Hinrich. Who is this?"

"Bob.." the woman's voice is interrupted by Arnold yelling at the video game. "..was shot last night so you will be partnered with Kevin Walken tonight."

My heart skips a beat "What? Is he alright?" I ask.

"Bob's fine he just got shot in the stomach last night. He was given information on the location of his car and when he found it the guy who stole it shot him."

"Did they catch the guy?"

The woman coughs "Bob shot the guy in the knee cap so yeah he wasn't going anywhere."

"What about the car?"

"The car was fine. Anyway your shift begins at eight tonight so meet Kevin outside the garage at around 7:50 okay?"

"Um..okay."

She hangs up.

[The Guitar Slayer]

OOC: Thanks for the lead in, Barb. I'll be alternating between Cassidy and Sundance throughout my characters.

IC: Sundance

I lurch up out of my sleep as I hear a runner outside. I pause for a moment, listening again. The bitter cold air rips at my exposed face, even with the three-day beard. Good. Nobody else. I quietly exhale, making smoke, and lie back down. I rewrap the blanket around myself and Cassidy. I button up my coat, noticing it's signficantly colder than last night. Almost automatically, I zip up Cassidy's as well. I think that our relationship is a little more perverse than others. We're best friends, brother and sister (figuratively), sometimes father and daughter or mother and son (also figuratively), and also...this. 'This' being sleeping together in a carriage shed.

I doze a little more til she wakes up. She smiles at me before she sits up and walks around the shed to wake herself up. She looks like a lost little girl with the blanket draped around her like that. I decide to take the first drag of the morning and light up. Being sufficiently conscious, Cassidy climbs back into the carriage and sits with me as we share a cigarette.

"What's the locale?" she asks between puffs.

"Several miles between police districts. With all the stuff going on at the edges of the streets, they aren't looking for wanderers at the core."

"Besides, Sundance, who else would be crazy enough to do it but us?" Cassidy finishes off the cigarette. We unload ourselves and carefully crack open the door. It's unspoken that we find the nearest park bathrooms. "We may be lower class, but we got class," Cassidy calls it.

I gently close the door behind us as Cassidy wraps her neck in this ugly maroon scarf she found somewhere in Leonardo. It's ridiculous and clashes with her whole outfit, but she says it's warm. I plant my "ugly" hat atop my head (she has the same feelings about it as I do about the scarf) and we find the restrooms.

After a shave, I look younger, much younger, than my bearded counterpart of the driver. Cassidy and myself stroll arm in arm along the park boulevards and streets, I tip my hat to the old who pass us by as Cassidy describes the lives of all we pass. She has the gift of reading people, and she does it well. Part of the young innocence she has left, I guess. Everyone has a story, and if she can't figure it out, she makes it up.

We decide to take a back path toward the train station. From there, I can use my entrance to the cars themselves and not have to worry about getting busted at the entrance. From there, we can walk the rest of the way to the Core District, the area between cop stations.

Cassidy yanks on my coat. "She's got problems, man." I follow her gaze. There's a jogger with a huge white guy in her path. No way she can take him. Cassidy and I make book toward the scene.

[Barb Gordon]

I slowly let out my breath after sprinting down one of the paths at a pretty quick pace as I slow down to a jog. My eyes are already scanning the area in front and around me, guess it's the cop in me, always wanting to know as much as I can at the moment. I passed a young couple a few strides past, and some older citizens long before that. There's a pretty big guy coming up in my way soon, and something isn't right about him. I can't really put my finger on it, but I don't feel right as my jogging brings me ever closer. There aren't any people around at the moment I realize as the path becomes more shaded and crowded with trees and bushes. Perfect for a mugging or other attack of that sort. My instinct confirms it, but I try to look ignorant as I approach the guy. I pass the guy and in that moment a whole explosion of things occur. The man grabs my wrist hard, literally stopping me in my tracks, and he shoves me to the ground. I can hear people at a distance running towards us, but for a normal victim, it would be too late. But I'm not exactly your average victim. I'm ready as he comes down to attack me, and I plant both my feet on his chest and push up as hard as possible. That sends him staggering backwards. I roll backwards, getting to my feet and before he has a chance to do anything else, I nail him hard in the stomach and once in the jaw. The guy is on the pavement at the drop of a hat. I instinctively grab my badge from inside my pocket as I oh so gently rest my foot on his neck.
"You picked the wrong girl to harrass buddy."
I say with a smirk as he squirms under my foot at the sight of the badge.
"If I ever hear that you've been doing anything bad...even if it's just jaywalking, I will find you so fast it will make your head spin...and finish kicking the crap out of it...GOT IT?"
I say the rest of it in a low, dark voice. The guy is just short of peeing his pants.
"get out of my sight."
I say, removing my foot from his neck. For so big a guy, he certainly moved fast enough.


~Barb

[The Guitar Slayer]

IC: Cassidy

I put on the brakes immediately when I see that badge. We're still out of earshot. "Oh sh--! Cop!" I hiss as I backpedal, trying to drag Sundance with me.

He doesn't move with me. Rather he drags me toward the cop. What the hell is he thinking?

"Pardon me, ma'am. Are you alright?" Sundance asks her. She pulls a strand of hair out of her face and nods. "We saw the whole thing. We were about to assist, but..." he gestures in the direction of the retreating mugger.

"No problem. Thanks for the thought, though." She rivets a gaze on us. I hate cops. They always put the harmless people in the clink first, then they realize that they let the big fish go. "Have you seen him around before?"

"No, ma'am," he answers her. I have my scarf up around my mouth now and am slouching. Sundance has taken the consideration to turn up his coat collar and bring down his hat. The cop doesn't suspect anything; it's cold this morning, so none of this seems out of the oridinary.

"Well, then...have a nice day. And watch out." The cop turns and continues her morning jog.

As soon as she is out of sight, I whack Sundance hard with my open palm. "What's the matter with you? That was cop!"

"Still a lady." He continues to walk, and I continue to harass him.

"A lady that could take us in and lock us up. And I don't want to think about what the inmates would do to me...or a pretty boy like you."

He flushes a little, partially because of my swat, partially because of the cold. He grabs my wrists. "You have a dirty, dirty mind."

"Thank you." I tug his hat down over his eyes and take off down the path. He takes chase and we yell and laugh at each other all the way down to the station. Early on, we pass the jogger again, and I don't give her a second thought. I hear Sundance give her a "G'mornin'" but then he resumes his pursuit.

OOC: My people are now on the train. I was just thinking that we need some more normal NYC people. You know, hookers, hobos, transvestites, transsexuals, bike messengers, couple of families, that sort of folk. Just an idea.

[Barb Gordon]

OOC: Yeah, that's a good thought guitar slayer. My characters will probably run into few random people when looking for leads, just bumping into strangers,etc.

IC:
My mind wanders as I finish the jog up and that familiar horse smell invades my nostrils as I enter the tiny stables that look so out of place among the buildings of New York. When that guy first came up to me I couldn't tell whether he was male or female, but it was easy to see that he was quite attractive. The girl with him seemed like she really didn't want to be talking with me right then and that she'd rather be getting a move on to wherever they were going. It was easy to see why. Detectives are different from cops, we aren't oblivious to what's right in front of us (inside joke between Charlie and myself). Those two weren't just regular and random good samaritans trying to give a hand. True, they did come over to help me, but I can bet that they don't do well rubbing shoulders with authorities of the law. That feeling was written all of over that girl's face. But they were nice enough. My thoughts begin to turn towards the "mugger" attack a little early as I head over to my locker and switch my jogging pants and shoes for some pants and ankle length boots. I wonder if setting out an old fashioned decoy plan could work in getting either the Photo killer or the copycat? It would take more than a few tries, but somewhere along the way it has got to attract one of them, and with the bait aware of what could happen at any moment and the police standing by, we would have a good shot at success. Definete risks involved though, but at the moment I am hard set in wanting to try it. I doubt Charlie would approve of it, especially with the fact that I'll volunteer for being the bait. As I was going over my thoughts I had ventured into the depths of the barn and taken out my usual ride, a large chestnut thoroughbred-quarter horse mix by the name of Big Ben. After brushing him over, combing out his mane and tail and picking out his hooves I put padding and then an old and worn English saddle on his back. After some coaxing and prodding I slipped the bit into his mouth and fastened the bridle. I grabbed a nearby stepping stool and with a bit of a hop from that new height, clamored up and onto him. I wasn't kidding when I said he was "large". Time for job related thoughts was over, now it was just time to have fun and relax, something I'd been needing for quite some time. With that I headed back out in the city, making my way back to the park.

~Barb

[Freza Resurrected]

Every hospital has the same smell. We all know that smell but can anyone describe it in words? Well, those who have too much time on their hands could think of something but to me..it's just the hospital smell.
I approach the front desk and ask if I can visit Bob just Bob. I hope she will point out different Bob's with different last names so that I can say Detective Bob but "Friend or Family?" she asks. Oh my God! I can't believe out of all the thousands of Bobs in this city he is the only one that's sick!

"I'm his partner." I say.

"Oh..I see." The elderly woman says quite startled. I wonder why?..oh yeah.

"Not life partners..we are the police and I'm his partner."

"Oh!" She laughs "So does that make you his friend?"

I pause for a moment "I guess I'd have to be wouldn't I." I say with little emotion. After I speak an elderly black man vomits on the tile floor behind me. The woman I'm speaking to doesn't pay any mind to it. "Go down the hall to your left and he is in room 218."

"Thanks." I jump over the green vomit and I begin walking down the hallway. That has to be the first time I've seen green vomit since the movie The Exorcist which reminds me of Bob's advice of how not to compare life to the movies.
The door is slightly opened and I knock on it twice. I hear Bob roll over in his bed and say 'come in'. So I do and I see his left arm is in a cast.

"What happened to your arm?" I ask.

"Greg! Nice to see you made it threw the night okay. What do you mean what happened to my arm? I got shot didn't they tell ya?"

I give a fake laugh and say "The woman that called said you were shot in the stomach!"

He laughs and says "That Shirley doesn't know her ass from her elbow never the less a stomach from an arm. It shattered..." oh great he's one of those guys who talks about his injuries. He goes on and on about what damage was done and what will have to be done to fix it and then he talks about other injuries he's got while on the force. Finally after ten minutes he is done.

"My car is okay though and I'll be back on the job in a few days."

I'm stunned "Shouldn't you take off for a few weeks?" I ask.

"Nah, these doctor's don't know anything. You'll just have to do the driving. Who do they have you partnered with tonight?"

"Kevin Walken."

He goes silent for a moment which is somewhat disturbing because that means something is very wrong with Kevin and it is a relief to not listen to him speak. "Listen,kid. If he wants you to do something that don't seem right then don't. He can't do anything to you. Kevin..Kevin is scum, let's just put it that way."

I nod my head "I just came to make sure you were okay and all. I'm gonna go back home and get some sleep before tonight's shift. I hope you feel better soon." I say as I walk backwards out of the room.

"Don't listen to him,kid. Take it easy!"

I turn to walk out when I see his chart hanging beside the enterance ot his room. I look left then right to see if there is anyone around and then I take the chart out of it's holder and look at it. Just my luck, ink of Bob's last name is smudged. I drop the chart back into the holder and then I leave.

[The Guitar Slayer]

OOC: I'm really into this, so I want to post again...also because some of the other RPGs aren't moving <cough>.

IC: Sundance

I silently hit the floor of the subway car and look expectantly up into the tunnel. Cassidy drops in, and I catch her. She wraps her arms around me as I carefully place her on the ground. I close the hatch just as the conductor opens the door. He growls, "Letting people on the trains earlier and earlier these days....good grief..." He continues to mumble and grumble.

An old lady gets on the train and brushes past us. She gives us a dirty look. The Who got it right: "I hope I die before I get old."

Cassidy vocalizes this. "Man, lack of respect for your elders? Don't forget your youngers, too, ma'am." The lady doesn't answer, just gives us a disapproving look and marches on back to her car. She slams the door behind herself.

"Huhmph," Cassidy grunts. "If our presence disturbs her, wonder what this'll do...." She pulls out the first joint of the day.

"Good Lord, you're gonna get cancer at this rate. Isn't it a bit early for this?" I also don't wish to be busted, let alone stoned, when we get to the District. I need at least my head together.

"Not when she's watchin'." Cassidy point through the door. Our lady friend is watch us with wide eyes. Well, if she wants a show....

"If you insist." I take out my ancient Zippo from the folds of my coat and light it up. The lady's eyes bug out and her hand goes to her mouth in horror. I show all my teeth as I bite at Cassidy's throat and she raises the joint to her lips as if to take a toke. The lady runs to tell the conductor. I draw away from Cassidy. "Honey, snuff it. Now is not the time." I gently nudge her.

"Fine." She licks her fingers, squeezes the burning end, and it fizzles out harmlessly. She wears her evil smile. Mine matches. Suddenly, she cracks up. "Did you inhale?"

"No, man. I just realized something. That bird probably thought you were a chick," she chokes out between laughs.

"I know I need a hair cut..."

"Seriously, with that hat, who can tell?"

"You did last...."

"Shut up." She shoves me. I shove her back and we get into a poking match. That is, until the rest of the riders show up. We take our customary places at the back of the car and ride up to our destination, as if we were regular working Joes and Josephines.

[JLU Dude]

OOC: Sorry that I haven't posted in a long time.

Detective James Morgan:

It's almost time. I hope thw captain has the team ready. I get up and begin to walk out. This has be quiet. But, I doubt that'll last. I walk out and head for my car. I get in and drive off. Gotta run the bust. I should call my girlfriend. I'll call after this, if I make it out alive. The risk of bein' a cop is that you can get killed.

[Harvey Dent]

"Good morning, Mr. Mayor," I say as I extend my hand.

"Mr. Douglas. I'm glad you could come in today. I know how busy the life of a CEO can be."

"Regrets, Mr. Mayor?"

Bloomberg looks at me and smiles a little.

"Well...there are times when I'd rather be fighting over how much money something will bring in as opposed to how much we can spend."

"You know, I have no problems with helping the city out in that area."

Bloomberg chuckles.

"No, that's quite alright. We'll find a way to manage."

"Okay, Mr. Mayor. So tell me, what's on your mind?"

Michael Bloomberg sits on the edge of his desk and lifts a newspaper off the desk. He shows me the back of the paper, with the headline "Dodgers, Brooklyn-bound?".

"What about it, Mr. Mayor?"

"Well, are the rumors true? Are you looking to purchase that team?"

"Maybe...maybe not."

"You know we can't afford to have another sports franchise in this city right now."

"I'd foot the bill for the stadium. I'm good for it."

"But transportaion and road construction would have to be paid for by the city and state, and that's not going to happen. I'm having a hard time as it is paying city employees, especially the police. In fact, I'm going to have to cut back on their checks."

"The Police Commissioner isn't going to like that."

"I know, but this city is $4 billion in the red. Sacrificies have to be made. I hope the NYPD understands that."

"Sure they will. They'll be very understanding on the picket line. By the way, when are you going to start cutting salaries?"

"I'll be making the anouncement this afternoon."

"Well, I wish you the best of luck, Mr. Mayor."

I rise from my seat and shake his hand.

"And don't worry about what you read in the papers. I haven't made up my mind yet."

I grab my coat and hat and walk out of the office.


*Author's Note: Edited to coincide with recent events in the story*

[Mattashell]

The sun has risen to directly overhead in the sky. Business people pour out of the buildings moving up and down the streets like so many ants looking for the five star resteraunts and martini bars where they're meeting this or that important fat cat for lunch. I retreat into the alyways. I find a busted fire escape on a tenement and jump up to catch the low rungs on the ladder. My intention is to climb up to the roof to think, but when I find there is no available access I go up to the highest floor and lean over the rusted rail. I gaze down on the ally below, trash cans and a dumpster, a lott of junk that people just left where they threw it. It's been months now since I ran away. There is nothing I want as much as to go back. But, I can't. I can't go back. My parents are dead. Everyone in the world thinks I killed them. But I'm not dead. I'm not dead and I'm not in jail. I'm still a part of the outside world. And that means giving up isn't an option. Not when there's no home to go back to. I am a man without choice. Without options. I must survive. And my community must survive. As an animal it my instinct, to survive and defend my family. And my only family now are nothing but the contents of that old dumpster. To society at least we are trash. We don't count. And so we're on our own. And it is up to us to take care of ourselves. It is up to me to take care of my brothers and sisters.

[Freza Resurrected]

As I'm about to walk out of the lobby I see someone reading a paper, the headline says "Dodgers, Brooklyn-bound?". It catches my interest so I walk over to the magazine rack and look for another paper just like it but instead I find another paper with my picture on it along with other officers. "Police Baffled in Photograph Killer Case" Oh my God! I sit down in one of the chairs and flip to the page with the full story. It gives my name and Bob's. He's a Smith believe it or not. The reporters give a half page story about everything everybody already knew. I throw the paper onto the table in front of me.

Okay, what's the killer going to do? If it said we were getting closer he would strike immidiately in order to taunt us but this..it's going to give him confidence both of them! Why did they have to give my name? What if they come after me?....Arnie!

[The Guitar Slayer]

IC: Cassidy

Sundance and I climb up to street level. The place is full of people...and no street musicians in sight. Sundance did a good job here. He immediately begins scanning the area for newspaper machines. The guy is a crossword puzzle addict. I'm usually in for the sports section and the front page, so we usually cooperate for this operation. He goes for the Times usually, but he'll plump for anything these days.

I see a middle-age bespectacled man deposit money in a dispenser. I dodge through the crowd to get as close as I can. I wait as he takes his paper and turns away. I get around to the front of the machine right before it closes and s_natch a paper away. I hold it up triumphantly to Sundance, who joins me. "Excellent job, my Artful Dodger." He opens the paper and quickly finds his page. He removes it and tucks it away in his coat. Quite frankly, I think it's partially for insulation. I start reading the front page as he leafs through.

"Check this out!" I flip the paper over. Sundance and I huddle together and speed read through the article. "Dodgers were good til they left NYC..."

"The money has to come from somewhere..." he considers carefully. He turns his steel grey-blue eyes and smiles. "We might've hit the jackpot, honey."

"Yeah, well, knowing my luck it'll come at a cost." I poke the paper right where the Photograph Killer story is. My kind watches out for stuff like this. We did it in the 1970s when Berkowitz was running around, even though many of us hadn't been born yet.

"Don't be such a pessimist. All bets were off when Rudy didn't get those extra terms. I think the cops will be occupied between strikes and murders and other various crimes. They won't be paying attention to those who are just making daily bread." He grinned.

I see a nice potential corner on the other side of the street. Sundance and I begin to set up shop.

[Mattashell]

Some lady's yelling at me to get away from her window or she'll call the cops. I jump off the fire escape and grab a pipe, which I slide down on to the street. I briskly head out of the all and head back toward down town. As I walk I spot someone on the roof of a building, I wave, but they don't see me. I get to a corner where, it looks like two musicians are setting up they're stuff. Across the street is City Hall. As a man emerges from the front, he is mobbed by people snapping pictures, asking uninteligible questions, and sticking mics in his face. He seems ticked off at them, but is restraining himself. I know I recognise him. Have I seen him on TV. Must be someone important. My thoughts suddenly jump back to the person on the roof. I turn back and take another look. A androginous looking person, covered in all black clothing, including the face, is looking at the man emerging from city hall, through the telescopic sight of an automatic rifle.

"Hey! HEEEY!!!"

OOC: I hope no one minds all this involvment, I just want to stir things up here.

[Freza Resurrected]

OOC:I got no problem, stir away. But whenever the rpg reaches night time things are going to get really interesting.

[JLU Dude]

Detective James Morgan:

I arrive at the place. Hmm, I see the S.W.A.T. I walk over to them. "All right," I say to them. "On my signal, if it looks good, we'll storm in." I have regerts of being in this. One of them being a Corrupt cop. I hate being a pawn. I should just resign. Can't think about this now. Gotta go and do my job. Hopefully, soon.

[The Guitar Slayer]

OOC: Hey folks! You know all those cute little reminders you got? Well, they're good for more than one post. Let's try to move this sucker along. Then Freza can have his fun at night. :) I think what Mattashell was hinting at was an assassination attempt...calling all officers.....

I'm guessing the time is about 12:15 PM since it's lunchtime. I guess my post goes before Mattashell's, because I thought it was still 8 AM. Anyway, they've been on the street since 8 and it's now 12:15

IC: Sundance

"...you shook me all night loooooooooooooonnng," I drawl into mid-morning air. Cassidy blows a mournful harmonica lick, and I sway gently in time. The original blues will top any rock tune by the same name.

I've removed my cap and scarf as the sun has taken the chill off a bit. This is also so they don't get confused anymore. Usually, by the time they hear my baritone voice, they figure it out. Then again, there are the few drug addicts that are so far gone they think Cassidy (with her extremely "healthy" figure) is an overgrown Irish setter. So I suppose you can guess what they think I am.

The pedestrians throw a bit of money our way. Some young female twenty-somethings gape at me a bit with adoring eyes. As I continue to sing, I look their way with a smile. If they weren't in the City, they'd swoon; their purses might be gone by the time they wake up. They flush and continue to watch me.

The audience we've gathered applauds. Some move on, including the 'groupies', but they hand me a few fives and ones. Directly, of course. Cassidy coughs and I turn to look at her. She just shakes her head and begins to fiddle around with some sheet music. We both know public displays of affection are bad for business.

"HEY!! HEY!!!!!"

Cassidy looks up and gasps. I try to turn and look, but she grabs me by my coat and belt loops. She whirls me around and drags me down the ground. "Really, darling, I wasn't flirting."

"Shut up!" she whispers as shots ring out toward City Hall. Both of us press our heads against the asphalt and cover each other. People scatter like pigeons as the shooting continues. I hear bullets whistling and ricocheting off buildings. A big luxury car roars away, with whatever/whoever was the target.

The sirens are screaming now. I blindly reach over and grab our cash before anybody else does. My heart is pounding in my ears and I can feel Cassidy breathing hard. Suddenly, the bullets stop. I open my eyes cautiously and survey the scene.

"C'mon." I get up and rapidly begin to clean up our site. I'm not willing to endanger her. Besides, the cops will be here soon enough. Cassidy is staring, her eyes fixated on the buildings near City Hall. I tug on her shoulder. "Baby, we gotta move it."

She nods absently and we walk quickly to the corner to a surprisingly empty street. As we turn it we break out into a run.

Finally, we stop several streets away from City Hall. It's still in the perfect area for street musicians, but it's alot further away from the chaos now.

I set our bags down and start to say something to Cassidy. She's deathly pale. "Honey?"

"I saw it all. I'm a witness. Oh, God." I see her begin to lose her cool. "The cops are gonna be looking for me. I'm running from the cops. Oh God." Cassidy, for the first time I've ever seen her, begins to shake uncontrollably.

I hold her tight as the morning wind blows around us on the abandoned street. "They'll never catch you, my Jade." I squeeze her harder. "Not as long as I'm with you."


From there, we decide to go another two streets down and start to perform. Cassidy's out of it, but nobody notices. They all think we're druggies anyway.

[Barb Gordon]

OOC: Yay, finally back home in Cali, wooo!

If you dismissed the fact that I was almost, key word:almost, mugged early today, then things were definetly looking up. The morning ride through the park was just what I needed to clear my head, and any feelings that shouldn't be there as well. Just as I got back into my apartment I heard my cell phone screeching. I flung the door closed as I took two leaps to bring me to my coffee table. I caught the phone on it's third ring,
" 'Ello?"
I ask, somewhat breathless.
"Good, glad you're there, I was about to go out looking for you."
Comes Charlie's excited voice on the other end.
"Wha--why?"
"You mean you haven---nevermind, you can turn on your TV and find out, but it's happened again."
"Are you kidding me?"
"I wish. Happened down in City Hall, loads of people saw it. Guy I the roof with an automatic."
"****....."
"Yeah, tell me about it. Sorry to cut short your day off, but we have got to move. I'll come around and pick you up, all right?"
"Yeah yeah....sounds good."
"Good, because I'm outside your building."
I move over to my window and pull aside the blind. A hand from a car waves to me, I roll my eyes.
"All right, I'll be out in five minutes."
With that I hang up. What a wise guy. My head is already racing as I quickly change clothes and pull my hair back in a new ponytail. I grab my cap, keys to the apartment and slip my gun into it's holster under my arm as I slip a leather jacket on. People saw it....City Hall....my god this is huge. I wonder how many witnesses there are......I shove any new thoughts away as I run out of the building and into the passenger seat of Charlie's car.
"Why hello there."
He says with a grin.
"Oh shut up and drive, you."

~Barb

[Freza Resurrected]

I fall to the ground and quickly pick myself back up and continue to run up the stairs of my apartment building. Something sticky is on my hand now and I'd rather not assume what it is. I reach my apartment and the door is unlocked. I open the door to find Arnie laying on the couch watching tv.

"Your back soon. Some political guy got shot." he says.

"What?" I say really confussed.

"I don't know, they interrupted an episode of Mama's Family too talk about it so I changed the channel. Want me to change it back?"

I take a deep breath and sit down in the brown chair beside the couch.
"I'd much rather pretend I didn't hear about it and go back to sleep." I say with little emotion.

"Okay, it's not your problem anyway. Unless that picture killer has taken up snipeing." He laughs.

I get up and walk back to my room. If Arnie had seen the things I saw yesterday he would not make jokes about either photograph killers. I quickly turn around "If anyone calls or knocks at the door don't answer!" I call back to him.

"What else am I suposed to do?" I thought he was jokeing but he actually wasn't. I watch as he flips the channel on some cartoons. I guess it's true that ignorance is bliss.

[Mattashell]

OOC: I just want to clear up that what I intended to imply was that one of Victor Douglas's enemies was attempting a hit on him. Of course I didn't mean for him to actually get hit, unless Harvey Dent agreed to that. Maybe one of the reporters actually to the bullet by accident. Next time I'll try to post a "heads up" before I try something major like this.

-Matta

[Harvey Dent]

Just as I reach the steps of City Hall, a large throng of reporters surround me, asking me questions about my meeting with Bloomberg.

"Mr. Douglas, how was your meeting with the Mayor?"

"Mr. Douglas, is it true that you're really pursuing--"

"Mr. Douglas, what are your thoughts on the photograph--"

"Mr. Douglas, how do you feel about the city's current financial--"

"Mr. Douglas--"

Dammit, that's it!

"Look, folks, I have important business to attend to, so if you'll excuse me..."

Of course, they don't excuse me. The reporters continue to follow me down the steps and into the center of City Hall Park. As I'm trying to make my way through the crowd, one of them tries to step in front of me and I trip. Suddenly, I hear a gunshot and someone drops on top of me like a stone, sending me to the floor. There's lots of screaming and commotion going on, and I'm trying to figure out what the hell is happening. Did someone try to shoot me? As I try to get up, another shot goes off, hitting the guy on top of me. There's no doubt now; someone is taking shots at me. Where the hell are the police!?!

"Oh my God, get out of the way!"

I turn my head in the direction of the yelling and see my black Rolls smashing through fences and park benches. The car suddenly brakes and slides right towards me, providing me with some protection. I push the corpse off of me and pull the back door opem, then dive right in. Before I get into my seat, I shout at my driver.

"Get me the hell outta here!!!"

The car shoots forward, throwing me back into my seat. I grab the edges of the seat and try to keep my balance as the car swerves to avoid hitting the fleeing reporters. With the mood I'm in, I wish we'd just run them over.

"Where to, Sir?"

"Home, dammit!"

The car barrels out of the park, dodging traffic and the police cars that finally decided to show up. None of them even bother to pursue, not that they could anyway. As we reach the Brooklyn Bridge, I ball up my fists and think hard about my next move. First, I'll need to compile a list of people who want me dead. Next, I'll have to determine which of them could afford to make it happen. Then...I wipe them off the face of the Earth.

[Barb Gordon]

Wed. (we need to pick a month) 12:24PM

Charlie fiddles with his stereo and a moment later I hear the band, Chicago, come blaring out.
"Is this your idea of theme music to get us in the mood or something?"
I ask increduously. He grins.
"Come on, the perfect music for an event like this."
"I bet people should be proud to know you've got music set up for their demise."
I respond sarcastically. Just then the handheld radio cackles. I grab it before Charlie has a chance to.
"Sam Kay here, what is it?"
"Just letting you know one of our guys said there's been a fluke."
The cop on the other end replies with a bit of static.
"What kind of fluke?"
"Important guy wasn't shot. Just some guy next to him. The shooter got away, got some witnesses though you can give a description. Mr.Douglas, the target, got away as well."
"Thanks for the update, we'll be there--"
"Now"
Charlie says, cutting me off as he parks by the curb and shuts off the car. It's pure mayhem as we walk towards the place where the shooting occured. Cops are taking notes from bystanders who say they saw everything. People are trying to console those who are terrified at what happened. But the biggest crowd is of course around the corpse of the man who got shot. Charlie and I make our way through the throng, checking things out.

[Mattashell]

Michael Henry:
12:35

The limo speeds away. People are screaming and running everywhere. I can't believe this. Those cops in the squad car saw me and Chris leaving the ally where we found that body. That cop that got shot in the village will never forget my face, and now I'm a witness to this.

Cops are everywhere. I need to leave here but I can't move. I'm starting to feel dizzy. Someone in a uniform is asking me if I saw what happened. I can't focus. The bright sun is gettin darker. The person's lips are moving. She's saying "Can you understand what I'm saying?" but it sounds like it's coming in waves as if she's talking in another room. I here a clank like metal hitting metal and black shutters slam in front of my face. I can see nothing but I can still hear. Everything is echoed like in an indoor swimming pool. They're calling for a medic. I feel something on my face pumping something into my lungs. It's oxygen. As it fills my chest the light of the sun begins to return.

Edit: I changed the time because Barb's post went up before mine.

[The Guitar Slayer]

This is basically a review of who and what we have here in terms of people. We have a bunch of cops, three vagrants, and a business man [and patridge in a pear tree :p ]. I combined summaries and also added in some details of my own.


Bob Smith and Greg Hinrich work the beat at a New York precinct. The latter is a rookie cop who doesn't have very many friends but understands what has to be done in order to make the city a safer place. He's in his late twenties, 6 feet tall, 220 lbs, red hair, green eyes. He lives in a cheap apartment with his best friend Arnold. Bob might be a good cop or a bad cop, but he’s definitely a fat cop.


At the same precinct house we have Samantha “Sammy” McKay, an ace shot and one of the few female cops that have the courage to go out on the beat. She has an european background, grew up in England for about half her life (she's approx. 23 or so), then she and her family moved to America. She's an only child, and her dad was a police detective, and her mom was a champion equestrian rider. Both were killed in a car crash....let's just say it had something to do with a case her dad was working on, and he got a bit too close to solving it. She's known for having an eagle eye when it comes to shooting. She works alone, lives in a pretty nice apartment, and has a kitten. She's got a really cheerful personality, but get's really involved when it comes to her work, she's very serious about it. Her partner, Charles, can be a flirt, but he gets down to business at the drop of a hat.


Name: James Morgan
Age: 39
Eyes: Blue
Hair: Brown
Gender: Male
History: James joined the police force when he was 24. After two years on the force he became Dectective and investigated a murder case. He took a ring from the dead body. A crimeboss became aware of this and blackmailed James. James stated accepting payoffs to cover stuff up linked to that crimeboss. He has a girlfriend and uses the payoffs to buy her stuff and hopes to marry her. He regerts doing what he does but wants to keep his job.


The City is being terrorized by two killers. One, the Photograph Killer. Once every three weeks, he rapes and murders his victims. Sometimes, he does it in a different order. After the victim has perished, he wears a black hood, sits on the bed with her and takes a picture of him point toward the next murder site. There have been 9 victims thus far. The last photo had him pointing with two fingers, indicating two victims. Now, there is a sicker demon on the streets. This one copies the Photograph Killer right down to the Polaroid snapshot, but he has a more demented tilt. He kills his victims by gutting them and leaving them and their entrails to rot.


The city has its share of characters running about. One good soul is Michael Henry; however, the cops hunt for him. He came from a dysfunctional, suburban home, his father was an abusive drunk. He started learning karate at a young age. His sensai became a positive male role model, and father figure to him. One day he came home from school and his father was home early. His father struck his mother and she fell down a flight of stairs and died. He was so drunk he didn't even seem to care or notice what he'd done. Michael struck him in a rage, accidentally delivering a fatal blow. He ran away to the city. The police beleive he murdered both his parents and are looking for him. The rest is what I posted previosly. Now MH runs, living day to day, trying to survive and help others survive this hellhole. MH has some karate knowledge. He frequents squats around NY and doesn't rally talk to the other street kids, but when there's trouble he settles it and is known to perform random good deeds. He has a lousy temper and he doesn't put up with fooling around. Generally no one wants to bother him, and that's the way he likes it.


Kyala Maxwell - She is 17 years old. One year before she made friends with a 21 year old guy named Alexander Maxwell (Alex). Soon they began spending a lot of time together and people started rumours that they were... urk.... ~whispers~ sleeping together. None of them were true though. Key's mother didn't believe her when she said they were untrue and sent her to military school. When she came back, she was still friends w/ Alex. Her mother decided that military school hadn't "straightened her out" and actually put her up for adoption. Alex was extremely unhappy that his friend was suddenly an 'orphan' and decided to do something about it. He adopted her. Now Kyala lives with Alex and his 20 year old roommate Ethan in a trailer.


Name: Victor Douglas
Age: 55
Occupation: Leader of the New York Syndicate and President/CEO of Unitek, a provider of computer hardware/software for personal and professional use.

Background: Victor Douglas was born into a low income, single parent household in Brooklyn, NY. His mother died during childbirth, and his father worked at the Brooklyn Navy Yard. Victor would spend his free time playing stickball with the neighborhood kids in Prospect Park, and had a strong relationship with his father. One night, after his father was laid off from his job, he got drunk and was killed in a bar fight. As the old story goes, Victor fell in with a bad crowd and got involved with petty theft. But even at the age of 12, Victor had a good sense for business, and took the money he made from crime and used it to get the best education possible. He graduated from NYU with a degree in business, but it was during his college years when he came in contact with the New York Syndicate, a major crime organization dating back to the 1920s. While crime wasn't something that he loved, it seemed quite appealing, and he needed the money to start his own business. He joined the syndicate, but wasn't able to quickly reap the rewards as he was drafted into the Vietnam War. After serving his time overseas, he returned to New York and threw himself into his syndicate work, quickly making his way up the ladder to the top spot as crime boss. Using the vast resources accumulated by the syndicate, Victor formed Unitech, a small computer company that really served as a front for syndicate functions. Much to his surprise, Unitech grew into a multinational corporation which became a favorite of many businesses and world governments. Today, Unitech (now Unitek) is one of the largest providers of computer hardware and software, and the New York Syndicate is the largest criminal organization on the East Coast, controlling pretty much anything that is illegal. Not bad for a semi-poor kid from Brooklyn.


Cassidy and Sundance --- Jade Cassidy and James Sundance "Kid" (assumed stage names) are two street musicians in NYC. Cassidy, a former valedictorian, has roamed from the beaten path and followed her muse since her graduation five years ago. Cassidy is short, sleek, and one of the best pickpockets in NYC. She's why you put your wallet in your front pocket and attach it with a chain. She could be a Latina, could be Russian, could be a Greek...there's is something you can't place about her.

She teamed up with Sundance at a bus stop in Leonardo, NJ. Sundance is older than Cassidy by about 5 years. He's not one to take advantage of his partner in crime, life, and love. Sundance is not 'handsome'; he is art. Beautiful by any standards, man or woman...thus, this poor guy is constantly hit on by both sexes. He prefers Cassidy over all. The two of them are semi-homeless, sometimes sleeping on the subway, other times in motels or tenements, but never in one place for too long. They do partake in various illicit substances, but they aren't hard core addicts; they aren't into smack or crack. Because they are performers, Cassidy and Sundance take care of their appearance; they don't look homeless. However, both don't exactly have money for hair cuts, so Sundance's is down past his collar and Jade's is a signficant length.

The duo play a variety of instruments, whatever is portable. If there is a bandstand set up nearby with a piano, they'll use that until the cops come in and bust them. Even the cops are reluctant to break up the party...they do a lot of old tunes from the 1960s, peace, love, and rock.


And that's everybody. Onto the summary.....

[The Guitar Slayer]

I suggest at least a quick skim over this; pick up a detail or two that could add to your posts if you come in contact with one of the other characters.


TUESDAY

The story begins quickly as MH and his acquaintance Chris discover a body near a dumpster. Chris yaks as the very sight of it, which attracts the attention of Greg and Bob. They investigate the scene and determine this is not the Photograph Killer. Rather, it a more gruesome copy cat. They are placed in charge of this case. At the same time, Alex, Key, and Ethan go out for a jog. Like the rest of the crowd, they are attracted to the spectacle. After they have cleaned up the area, the cops head to Moe’s diner.

Sam is made supervisor over this case as well as the Photograph Killer’s case. She and Charles head out to the diner. There, we learn that one of the killers washes the dishes at this diner.

MH, in the mean time, has stopped a mugger from robbing an old woman. When he attempts to pawn the gun for some cash, the pawnshop owner turns on him. MH escapes, but the owner calls the cops on him anyway. James Morgan checks out the situation and ends up arresting the owner when he threatens him.

The ride back to the station is silent. There is some sort of tension between Bob and Samantha…Greg wonders if his partner is a bad cop.

Victor Douglas becomes disgusted with the case as it stands. He gives his second in command Michael three days to get both of the killers out of his way. Something big will be going down soon.

Greg meets up with a fellow cop at the coffee machine. Kevin has a ‘stack-o-porn’ two feet high in his desk. Bob interrupts the uncomfortable conversation with the news that the Copy Cat has struck again. This time, he killed a twenty-year-old man in public. Nobody cared enough to stop him and call the police until it was over. Meanwhile, Alex and Key wait anxiously at their home. Was it Ethan?

Bob informs Greg that they might have figured out who one of the killers was. At 3 PM at a pawnshop, a criminal smashed several appliances and stole a camera. He had been committed because he would dig up bodies and put them up around the house. He had escaped from the asylum 12 years ago. His name is Melvin Walton. They reach the scene, as do Key, Alex, Sam, and Charles.

MH realizes that he is fighting a losing battle. He cannot protect all of the street kids without some help. He reluctantly approaches LaSean, a dealer, who accepts the terms of the agreement. This also brings in part of LaSean’s gang.

Once it is confirmed that Ethan was the man killed, Alex and Key breakdown. Sam, feeling sympathy for them (and something else for Alex), drives the two of them home. She leaves her number with them if they need her. Sam lets her defense down and stays and talks with Key and Alex. She learns that Alex is very wary of cops from past experience.

We learn the master scheme of Victor Douglas: He wants to bring the Dodgers back to Brooklyn. He had so many happy memories of them…and now he has the money and power to do it.

In the middle of a certain park somewhere, Jade Cassidy and James Sundance “Kid” finish off their performance for the night. They high tail it back to the horse stables where they spend the night.

After Sam returns to Charles after making sure Key and Alex would be okay, he asks her to stop thinking about them unless it relates to the case. He shows his jealousy concerning Alex very clearly.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
At some point during the night and early morning hours, Bob stops the mugging of an elderly woman. He is shot, but MH and his buddy Chris find him again. MH gets the police’s attention and then bolts.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

WEDNESDAY

The next morning, Sam wakes up and feels bored by the lack of work. She decides to take a jog through Central Park past the horse stables. Sundance bolts awake and listens as her footfalls pass. He and Cassidy get ready to face the day. As they talk and walk, they see a jogger being assaulted. They run to help, but she takes care of herself. She reveals herself to be Sam the cop. Cassidy, who has a phobia about cops, tries to bolt, but Sundance manages to get past the cop and act normal. Sam contemplates using herself as bait to get at least one of the killers. Sundance and Cassidy head toward the nearest train station and hop on a train toward the District.

Greg wakes up at about the same time as the others (5 AM) and receives the phone call concerning Bob. Before work, he visits his partner in the hospital. Greg tells Bob that he is being paired with Mr. Stack-O-Porn, Kevin. Bob warns him not to do anything he doesn’t think is right.

Cassidy and Sundance slip onto the train. They encounter stares from a woman and proceed to put on a show to satisfy her horrified expectations. They then calmly sit and ride the train up to the district.

Victor Douglas meets with the mayor concerning the Dodgers. Bloomberg had said he would be relocating some funds for a special deal…and it might be for the Dodgers. The money would have to come from the police salaries. This would incur a strike….letting the vagrants and the murders and the dealers run free.

Greg sees the morning paper. He notes the Dodgers story, but pays special attention the killers’ story. They mention his name, which puts his friend in danger. He runs home to make sure he’s all right.

Sundance and Cassidy (while on a quest for a crossword puzzle) see the stories as well. Cassidy is worried, but Sundance reminds her of the good business. They set up shop on a street corner in sight of city hall.

Around noon, MH sees a man on the roof with a rifle. The man shoots down at the departing Victor Douglas, but does not hit him. Both Cassidy and MH see the shooter. MH faints from the shock, while Sundance takes Cassidy away from the area. He vows to keep her safe. The police now can question MH as a witness. They will need to find Cassidy, the only other witness.


And that's where stand. Have fun.

[Harvey Dent]

"This is what we know so far, sir. Our contacts in the police department have informed us that the bullet pulled from the reporter is the same type used in high-powered military rifles, and judging by the accuracy, the rifle in question would come with an equally high-powered scope."

"Obviously," Michael quips. I look over at him, not amused.

"Either stand up straight or sit down, but don't lean against my bookcase."

Michael sighs and stands up straight. I return my attention to the informant.

"Continue."

"The police have no leads, or suspects. They would like to question you, believing that you might know who was trying to kill you."

"But the only problem is, I don't know."

I sigh and rub my forehead. And to think this day started off good...

"They want answers? I'll oblige."

I motion towards my bodyguard, William.

"William, I want you to pick six of your best men. Two will ride with us in the Rolls, and the other four will follow in a seperate car. We're going to the police station in the area. I'll give my statement while your men stay outside. I won't be caught by surprise again."

I rise from my desk and look around the room.

"Michael, I want you to go back to the office. Take some guys with you, just in case. As for the rest of you, I want names...motives...everything. Have it ready by the time I get back."

Everyone nods and leaves the study, going to complete their tasks. William is the only one who remains behind.

"What's on your mind, my friend?"

"I'm...angry with myself."

"Hey, no one saw that coming."

"Maybe, but I can't help but feel that if I was there..."

I walk towards William and pat him on the shoulder.

"Stuff happens, William. Let's just make sure that this particular incident doesn't happen again, okay?"

He nods.

"Good. Now, let's go. You can stay with me in the station. If anyone says anything, let me handle it."

He nods again and we walk out of the study. We exit the house and reach the Rolls. Just as I'm about to get it, William speaks.

"What's going to happen now?"

I stop and turn to him.

"The second I find out who did this....I'm going to war, against that person, and everyone behind him or her."

[The Guitar Slayer]

OOC: Hey folks. I just want to inform you guys that this will probably be my last post for about a week. I'll probably back-date one or two to add depth to the story when I get back. Any rate, I have a plot point semi-hashed out with Barb, so nobody better kill anybody I might need later. Idea on the month: October, just after the first frost. :p

IC: Cassidy, 6:30 P.M., Wednesday

"Remembeeeeeeeerrrrr what the doormouse said
Feed your head
Feed your heeeeeeaaaaaaaaaad!"

I hit the final chord on the guitar and polite applause follows. I shake my head. I'm totally spaced. I'm sure I have the audience convinced I'm tripping on 'shrooms or something, but unfortunately, no.

What did I ever do to deserve this? Sure, I stole off some Wall Street folk, but what were they going to do with a couple of fifties? Get a shoe shine? Lord, this is so screwed up. I'm on the run from the cops.

I guess I'm still a bit shocky after that whole shebang. I saw the whole thing, I saw it all. I mentally curse myself out for memorizing every line of that guy's face. Damn my 20/15 vision. What was I thinking when I agreed to go up to the District? Why hadn't I checked this crap out before I headed up here?

I take out a cigarette and nervously puff away. That's the last one in the pack. A pack in six hours...never thought I'd see myself do that. Sundance notices this as I drop the empty pack down a sewer grate. He counts up the day's take. It's obviously a very nice amount, since I see his eye brows arch. He shoves it deep into his coat, and he takes my hand. I numbly accept and allow him to lead me.

Sundance had been abnormally quiet since my freak out on the streets. Not even on the strangest acid trips we had done together had gotten that kind reaction out of either of us.

I come out of my thoughts as I am sat down at a table at an outdoor restaurant. This is different. Usually we hit Burger King or Wendy's on a good night. Italian, no less. Hmm.

Sundance smiles at me tenderly. "I decided you needed a bit of a treat, so I took the liberty of using some of my own savings." Sundance and I split the money evenly, but I usually spend mine on the day to day extra stuff, while he saves his for long term.

"Scrooge cracks open the bank? I'm amazed." He slightly hmmphs to himself and orders a lasagna. It's not the fanciest, but hey, it's a treat in comparison to a Big Fish.

"Complimentary bottle of wine?" A waiter says automatically. He looks at us in disgust. Not his usually class of people.

"Of course," Sundance calmly answers. I begin to make plans in my head to drink the whole thing myself, black out, and then find out tomorrow that I yakked all over the prick's shoes. I decide not to put that into action as Sundance gives me a look that says, "Don't even think about it."

I silently begin to eat and drink in moderation. Sundance does the same. I hear women whisper. "Who is he?" "Is he famous?" and all that other usually crap that we hear. I don't know why I tolerate it sometimes. It sucks being the plainer one. Sure, I've gotten the odd solicitation from an agency, but this is ridiculous.

He drains the first glass of the night. "What do think you're going to do?"

"I don't know. Run and hide." I shrug and stare at a chunk of tomato.

"Do you really think you have to? Who would've noticed you watching? We hit the ground at the moment the shots rang out."

"Still...." I swallow the mouthful I have. This conversation is killing my appetite.

Sundance pauses. "Despite the fact I highly doubt they're looking for you, I'll go with you into hiding. We gotta go underground."

I nearly drop the fork. I kill the wine in my glass in one gulp. "You're kidding."

"They find nobody there," he intones gravely.

I lean across the table. "That's because they are usually dead."

"There are people there that can keep quiet, that's all."

"Dead men don't tell tales. The live ones are prevented with fear and money. We're not exactly a horror inspiring lot. And we don't got much. We can't go. Face it."

Sundance suddenly gets out of his seat and practically goes on his knees. "Please. You living like this, constantly looking over your shoulder, using substances to control yourself, kills me. You can't be you anymore if you have this hanging over your head. You have three options...turn yourself in...or find a way out...or disappear for awhile." He looks down. "I know the first two are not favorable options in your eyes. By process of elimination..." He looks up at me, the accordion strikes up, the candles glow....When the hell did I get transported into a romance?

"Alright. First, let's get the doggy bag and the complimentary cigars and steal a bottle of wine on the way out." That's better.


I lean back against the window sill, smoking away at a...another type of cigarette that isn't filled with tobacco. It'll help me get to sleep for one night. The smoke fills my lungs and alters my senses. The world seems much easier to deal with. Sundance comes to the window half-dressed and already half-asleep. He takes a toke himself and then settles next to me. Abandoned buildings, gotta love them. I press myself against him, and slowly let go of consciousness.

OOC: You people can go back and fill up the afternoon and evening hours with whatever you want. This just explains where my characters will be for the night of Wednesday.

[Mattashell]

Michael Henry:

1:00

There are two cops asking me questions about what I saw. I told them my name was Mike, and made up a phony last name. I hope they don't recognise me. Of course they didn't press when I said I don't have an ID. It's obvious I don't have an official street address. I'm just telling them everything I saaw. They want to know how I can be reached If they need me to apear in court.

[Batgirl_2005]

ooc: I'm assuming the attempted murder dealio happened @ 12:15 or so?

Kyala 12:00:

I wake up late and I'm not surprised to see that Alex is already out of bed. I stretch and yawn. And get dressed.

I head out of my room and halfway expect to see Alex and Ethan sitting there with their ritual Wednesday morning poker game to see who gets to play my chaufer until next Wednesday. (I still haven't figured out why they do it on Wednesday....) I cringe as I see Alex siting there playing solitaire his eyes glued to the newsbroadcast before him.

I clear my throat to try and get his attention. It doesn't work. I roll my eyes and walk up to him.

"I'm going to go for a run. I need to get my ming off of-" He cuts me off.

"No. You're not leaving." He says, his voice sounds really strange.

"Alex? What's wrong?" I've never heard him sound so serious. I kneel down next to him. He looks at me his eyes are red and puffy.

"Everything." He says quietly.

I stand up, walk around and sit down next to him. He leans back and on my shoulder. He smells of cigarette smoke. I cringe at it.

Suddenly a gun shot rings out from the TV. It looks like there was a murder attempt on some odd political type guy.

"Remind me again why we haven't moved yet?" I say quietly.

[Harvey Dent]

(This would be the same police station where the main characters work at.)

I walk into the office of a sergeant and take my seat. William stands beside me. The officer looks at William suspiciously, but I shake my head.

"Don't worry, sergeant. He's my bodyguard, and he's licensed to carry a gun."

He nods and sits down.

"Okay. Name?"

"Victor Douglas."

"Age?"

"Fifty-five."

"Occupation?"

"President and Cheif Executive Officer of Unitek, Incorporated."

"Okay, Mr. Douglas, tell me what happened earlier today."

I give the sergeant a brief rundown of my day at City Hall, omitting the specifics of my meeting with Bloomberg. I tell him about the reporters, the gunshots, and my escape from the area.

"Mm-hmm. Okay. Now, Mr. Douglas, do you know of anyone who might want you dead?"

I chuckle.

"Sergeant...Michaels, is it? Sergeant, I'm a wealthy man. People of my social status are always being targeted."

"What I mean is, is there anyone in particular who may have an axe to grind? A disgruntled ex-employee? A vengeful family member?"

"I'm sure there are some people who's toes I might've stepped on over the years, but that's business. If you're asking for names, well, none are coming to mind."

"Maybe you could provide us with a list of people as soon as possible."

"I'll do my best, Sergeant. If that's all..."

"Yes, that's all. We'll be in touch."

I nod and exit the office. I walk into the lobby and look around at all the commotion. I hear some faint discussion about the recent killings and the attempt on my life. I'm not really interested in hearing more, so I quickly leave the station with William close behind.

"Let's get back to the compound, William. I want to know who's after me."

[Freza Resurrected]

Moe's Diner- 1:45 PM
Fingers are all shriveled up and a fly keeps landing on my nose. The water in the sink is filthy but it still smells like soap and my hands..the skin cries for air. Sometimes we must suffer through discusting routine in order to fully indulge in our own personal pleasures. I'm the only one who can absolutely understand this of course. Oooooohhh tonight, tonight..I will live the sweeeeeeet dream of every man. I will have two beautiful women at once. I simply must remember that their tears and cries are of joy and pleasure not pain joy and pleasure not pain joy and pleasure not pain joy and pleasure not pain joy and pleasure not pain joy and pleasure not pain joy and pleasure not pain joy and pleasure not pain joy and pleasure not pain joy and pleasure not pain joy and pleasure not pain joy and pleasure not pain......

[Barb Gordon]

12:31PM

IC:

"Well this seems like a waste."
I say as I park the car in front of the station. Charlie nods.
"Yeah. Swear the mobs get bigger and bigger when someone's dead...everyone's gotta have a look."
"Not just that Charlie. This shooting is totally steering us away from the cases we should be working on!."
I slap the car door loudly. Charlie winces,
"Hey, don't take it out on my car."
I sigh.
'"Sorry. Anyways, I've got some ideas to go over with you, but I want to get inside, let's go."
I walk towards the station just as two men exit the doors. My eyes scan them both over, noting the differences between the two and any pecurliarities...what can I say, it's habit. Looks like a bodyguard or something and the guy who pays him, whose older, but not too bad looking. He doesn't look that pleased though, probably hates being around all of us, cops, detectives, lawyers....not everyone's an angel in this town, and he doesn't look like too much of a saint from here. They both brush past Charlie and me and into an incredibly nice looking car. I turn and see Charlie's face.
"Oh gimme a break."
I say in response to his wide eyed, child like expression.
"That car is so.....awesome."
I leave him to stare after the car as I enter the building.
"Hey!"
I hear Charlie call after me as he rushed to catch up.

[Freza Resurrected]

2:10 PM Greg's apartment


My eyes ache, I have been in this bed for a few hours now and I can't seem to fall asleep. And I'm so tired that I feel sick. So I stumble into the bathroom and open the medicine cabinet. The mirror door makes a high pitched noice when it opens. I grab a bottle of...I'm not sure but it says it will cause drowsyness so what the hell? It's called Night..something I don't know I'm just too tired to read anything other than words that are associated with sleep. I drink about half of the green liquid in the plastic bottle and I leave the bottle in the sink.
I lay back down on my bed and I don't even cover up. The medicine is fast acting thank god. Now....every......thing........fades..........away..

[The Guitar Slayer]

OOC: Like I said, I am going to backtrack a little and fill in the gaps for the afternoon. I'll keep the time moving along.

2:45 PM
IC: Sundance

Cassidy and I have taken a break from performing for now. I am disturbed by her silence. She sings, smokes, and stares. None of her jive, no working the crowd. There are a lot of people here right now. Most of them were frightened by the assassination attempt a couple hours ago. They shuffle about, some going to, some coming from their job. The real audience arrives about three so I'm estimating we have 15 minutes to kill.

Cassidy leans up against the building and smokes. Whenever she's silent, it's best not to bother her. Though in these circumstances, I am not so sure of that assumption.

I stroll down the street aimlessly. I stop and look into windows. I notice the barber shop...not yet. I might need my long hair for when we go...

I know it's dangerous to go there. However, the mess that could result if we do not disappear for awhile could be even worse. Cassidy's parents do not know she still lives. If they did, somehow, find out Jade Cassidy's legal name, it would hit the fan in a major way. Long story short, she doesn't want her parents having to bail her out if it comes to that.

I stop in front of a electronics store and watch the news in the middle of a report.

"...Mr. Douglas was unharmed during the attempt on his life."

So that's who that cat was. And I know what he was doing: the Dodger deal. I am an entrepeneur myself.

"So far, only one witness has been found. An office comments on this...."

I calmly watch the guy stutter and sputter throw the interview. "We're reviewing the tapes and all..."

Suddenly, something catches my eye in the background. My jaw drops, and I press my face up to the glass. It's her!

I consult my timepiece. This intervied had been carried out shortly before 12:30....and in the background was the cop I had tried to assist this morning.

Dammit. No other way to phrase it eloquently.

She was a smart one. She'd find us if we weren't careful. The Underground it is, then.

I turn back to gaze at Cassidy. No sign of her. There was that nervous wreck in the corner, but that was about as close as I could get to the one I knew. We were already on the slippery slope...and she had just lost her grip. It would go fast from here. She was addicted to life first. Once life went bad, cigaretes. Alcohol once the cigarettes ran out...and down we go.

Call twisted logic or metaphysical mumbo jumbo. I know her, and I know where this could take her.

I head back to the corner. I'm thinkin' Italian for dinner, and a proposal.

[Harvey Dent]

I sit in my dimly lit den, watching the news reports of my attempted murder. Not the most riveting television I've ever seen, but beggars can't be choosers. Just as I'm about to pass out from boredom, the phone rings.

"Victor Douglas."

"Douglas...this is Murdoch. I just heard the news. How are you?"

Unbelievable. The man controls 20% of the world's media, yet he just heard about my near-death experience.

"Still alive, Rupert. However, I get the feeling that you didn't call just to inquire about my health."

"No. I want a meeting."

"A meeting?"

"Here, in Los Angeles. I want to discuss some business with you, regarding you-know-what."

"I'll be there shortly."

I hang up the phone and look towards the ceiling.

"I think I've got them, Dad. I think I've got them."

I walk quickly out of the den and meet some of the men.

"I want my plane fueled and ready to go when I get to Kennedy. I'm going to LA, and won't be back until sometime tomorrow morning. Call Michael at the office and tell him that he's in charge until I return."

"But boss," one asks, "what about the investigation?"

"I've already told them everything I know. Let Michael deal with them."

William and I exit the house and enter the Rolls. Before starting the car, he turns around to look at me.

"Did you get them, sir?"

"That's what I'm about to find out, my friend."

We pull out of the driveway and exit the compound. As we head towards the airport, I swear I can hear the Dodgers Symphony tuning up to play the main Dodger theme. With a little luck...and force in the right places...this borough will hear those sounds again.


(Author's Note:While VD is in LA, I'll be controlling Michael Cortlandt, the #2 man in the Syndicate. I'll come up with some basic info on him later.)

[Freza Resurrected]

OOC: Somebody post something! I got a rookie cop stuck in dreamland and a psychopath washing dishes!

[The Guitar Slayer]

OOC: My folks are in dreamland, too. Harvey Dent just posted, and not too far back, Barb did too.

We really need to expand our cast of characters and to get this plot moving! I hate to pull the same trick twice, but if necessary, I want everyone to take a nap until the night comes. :p

Hey, it worked in Batman.

[Mattashell]

Michael Henry:

4:08 PM

That was very scary, but after three hours, they finally gave up on me and let me go. I told them that if I hear about the trial I'd go to the precinct. The cop gave me her business card. It's getting late, and I think tonight we should start our "neighborhood watch" patrols. I'm going to the squat and round up as many people as I can.

I'm lucky, after everything else, I'm lucky no one recognized me.

OOC:

I feel like the problem with this thread is that the characters catch glimpses of each other, but don't come together to interact enough. It happens some, but by the end of the game there should be an event that ties all the stories together and brings everyone to one place. At least I think so.

[Freza Resurrected]

Moe's Diner 4:55 PM

I glance up and see Leon walk into the diner. I'm so happy to see him this means my shift is almost over. I asked to leave early today. I asked several days ago. Leon is probably my only black friend. My....only friend.

"You can go now." He says.

"Okay." I say as I dry my arms of with the yellow towel. I'm soooooo excited. If only I could tell him about it! Tell someone! One day they'll all know....NO THEY WON'T!!! They'll never stop me. Never...never...

"Doug! Don't just stand there man. Get out of my way and go home. Get some sun..."

He says something under his breath but I didn't catch it. I spend too much time in my head I guess. But tonight I'm going out on the town. I walk out of Moe's diner with a smile on my face. A kid looks at me like I'm an idiot but I don't care. Something takes a part of me and I imagine myself slitting the little bastards throat in broad daylight. My smile grows wider and he looks away. So many people avoid eye contact in this city. In my case they have a reason. Hahaahah... drops of rain hit my face and I feel cold. ooOhhh that's better I think about the girls and I feel sooooo warm... I reach my hand deep into my pocket...SO excited....

[Freza Resurrected]

5:00 PM Greg's bedroom

I feel dizzy and I open my right eye. Arnie is shaking me violently! He's saying something...............









What? He's shaking me.....


"Wa.... p...eg... at...ou...do..." I can't understand a single word he said...

My stomach growls and churns....

uuuuggghhh I spewed all over him....







my eye opens again and he's gone...

[Freza Resurrected]

5:30, Photograph Killer's apartment

The bathroom is too small. I'm shaving my leg but I keep cutting myself. It's either because I'm sooo excited or it's because I can barely move in here. I hold the razor under the faucet and the steam from the hot water fills the room. I run the razor over my thigh removing what little hair there is. That's done. I'm almost done. Arms,legs,chest,butt,willie,and I got most of the back hair. The cracked mirror shows the face of a pale young man. Haha not the most handsome or atheletic but perfection lies within. FREAK I'm not a freak! I'm not. Pleasure not pain..pleasure not pain pleasure not pain....ahh. I hold the razor under the hot stream of water and more steam fills the room. I run the razor across my head from front to back. It doesn't take too long my hair isn't that long. Carefully I shave off my eybrows. OH NO...the easy parts over with and now it's time for...I reach behind the faucet and grab the tweasers. The tweasers are covered in dry blood....stop crying...stop crying.. I take the tweasers and I pluck the first eyelash...OHHH IT HURTS..then the next and the next...and the next..it didn't hurt so bad the first time I did this but they are sooo short..I rip my eyelid and blood sprays on the shattered mirror. It'll get better. It'll get better. It'll get better. It'll get better.

[Barb Gordon]

3:13 PM

"We're wasting time."
"I've almost got it all."
I swear, sometimes the video geeks really bug me. Jake, one of the younger guys in the station had come running up to me saying he had something to show me from the video the news crew shot when that incident occured earlier today. And then the little..twerp, lost the footage, had to go grab his other copy and then search for what he had located before.
"There we go!"
He finally says triumphantly. I uncerimoniously rip him out of his desk chair and sit down.I flash a smile,
"You're a life saver Jake."
he blushes and shuffles off as Charlie comes my way.
"That kid's got something for ya you know....?"
I nod, not really paying attention to him as I scan the video frame by frame where Jake stopped it.
"So were you using that fact to your advantage?"
"Well duh Charlie. I'm a detective, we find the advantages and well...take advantage of them!"
he chuckles from behind, obviously deeply amused by my statement.
"Hold the phone..."
I begin. My tone grabs his attention and he leans over my shoulder and looks at the screen.
"What? What is it."
I jab my finger at the screen to a person in the left corner, not noticeable, much...but just what I was looking for.
"I've seen this person."
"Yeah, so?"
"Look at the screen Charlie! She's looking right at where that shooter was...look at her face."
Charlie narrows his eyes,
"I don't get--"
I abruptly stand up.
"She saw it happen, Charlie. I know it. And I've seen her before, in Central Park, with a guy. If we get started now I know we can track those two down, I just know it."
"So then what are you waiting for?"
"You."
And with that I grab my coat and race off for the car.

[Harvey Dent]

"He's gone where?"

"Los Angeles. It looks like Murdoch is going to give in and sell. The Old Man must be very happy."

"I still think it's a waste of capital. He can't just throw this company's money around--"

I turn in my chair and and look around the room. The Board of Directors called this meeting to discuss the attempted murder at City Hall, and they wanted to hear from the horse's mouth. Instead, I'm sitting in for him while he's off buying baseball teams. While I'm indifferent to it, it's not hard to tell that the Board Members are a little ticked-off about it.

"May I remind you gentlemen that Victor Douglas built this company from the ground up with his own money. I believe he's earned the right to spend it however he wishes."

"But that doesn't mean--"

"Besides, if he's going to bring the Dodgers here, it's going to generate business. And business leads to profit, doesn't it?"

The members shrug their shoulders and nod.

"And who stands to profit from this the most? Unitek."

I get up and walk around the room, making sure to look each man in the face as I speak.

"Think of it, gentlemen. Unitek, one of the biggest businesses in the technological sector and the employer of one-third of the Tri-State Area's population, would be correcting a grave mistake...a sin, if you will...that was commited 44 years ago. To the City of New York, and specifically, the citizens of Brooklyn, Victor Douglas, and by extension, Unitek, would be looked upon as saviors. We would be returning Major League Baseball to a borough that hasn't had a true national identity since the end of the 1957 baseball season."

"But what are the odds that the sale and the move would be granted by the MLB?"

"Mr. Douglas already has plans for that, so there is no need for you to worry."

"What about the City of Los Angeles. Certainly, they won't be very fond of us if this deal goes through. Any potential expansion by us into the area--"

"We're doing well enough here. There's no need to cross the Mississippi yet."

I return to my desk and lean back in the chair.

"Now, earlier I received a call that Mr. Douglas would be returning early tomorrow morning. Sometime during the day, he will call a board meeting to discuss what happened. If he gets the team, then I assume he will want to hold a press conference. So, unless there are any further developments, I bid you good day, gentlemen."

The Board members get up from their seats and file out of the office. As soon as that door closes, I turn my chair around and stare out the window. It's become a habit of mine recently, staring out at the NY skyline and letting myself drift. And if things get boring...well, there's always target practice.

[Mattashell]

Michael Henry

It's dark now, and time to patrol. Kenya and I are patroling the street on one side of the warehouse Damon and LaSean on the other side. Chris didn't show up. If I don't see him tonight, he'll have me to deal with in the morning. We walk down the street.

Kenya doesn't like me, and we don't talk. I'm glad because that's how I like things. I'm glad to have her on my side. She's a tiger, she fights like an animal. I've seen her knock men down before.

Suddenly, we hear some trash cans knocked over. She shines the light in that direction. At first I'm, like "It's just The Bagman, let's go." The Bagman is known in this part for all the plastic bags he carries around with him, full of...well more plastic bags. Now he's got one over his head too, not an uncommon sight. Kenya seem furious though. When she moves the light down to his lower body, I see why. "You smelly old f..."

"I't's okay baby," I say, "He's not hurting any one. Let's just leave him alone." I can see why she's mad though, with him hiding behind trash cans and jerking off while asphyxiating himself with a plastic bag AND WATCHING US. She looses her temper and bashes him with the flashlight. She says, "And he's not going to hurt anyone either!" I can see by her face the she must have been violated by a dirty old man in the past.

She's right though. He shouldn't be doing that. I pick him up by the lapels of his stinky jacket and tell him, "You better get out of here and don't show up around here again, or I won't be as nice to you as my freind was."

He crawls away. Just a harmless old bum...this time, but as we continue down this street I feel fear. It's true that they say this city never sleeps. At night this place is crawling with killers, abductors, rapists and all sorts of nasties. This area is known for it's gangs, and I don't mean like LeSean's bunch of punks. I'm talking about the hardcore serious ones. Kids who wear colors and carry guns.

I hear voices as we walk. They could be coming from that dark ally, or the next one, or the next block or anywhere. I can't even tell.

[Freza Resurrected]

OOC:We need to get everybody at the same time period. Everyone needs to get close to 6 PM soon because some of us are at 3, or 5 or 6 or later. After Babs posts something I'll add more to the story.

[The Guitar Slayer]

OOC: I've decided that I'll need to use Sundance for the next section, so to fill in Cassidy's turn, we're going into dream land. After this, I'm not posting until at least after midnight RPG time....

IC: Cassidy
Abandoned bulding
Night of Wednesday...

~~~~Dream Sequence~~~~~~~~

You know that weird feeling when you know you're dreaming, but you're still scared to the point of sh---ing a brick?

I'm having one of those right now.....and here it comes....


I'm in my church. My old church, before I ran away. I'm completely garbed in a white gown, like the one I wore for one of those big shindigs back in high school. There are no pews in this temple anymore. I turn to ask the Padre what happened. He stays there and points at the door that would normally lead to the outside. "They are waiting."

I look at him with apprehension. I freeze up, paralyzed...what if his 'they' are the 'they' that I never want to see again....I WON'T go...I dig my heels into the soft carpet as I am dragged past the altar, but to no avail.

I slide smoothly into a round room with hardwood floor. I try to go back out the door, but the room has rotated away from it. It's spinning...I'm stuck her for the ride. Faster and faster it goes...I can't stop it....

Round 'n' round....I feel like my head and body are being pulled in two different directions....

OH GOD.....

I can't stop it....it won't stop....I can't get up...it won't let me. I'm dyin' on the floor and I can't stand up, which would surely save me...The spinning is speeding up to the point where I'm about to shatter into a million pieces. I gasp for air, but get none...I'm suffocating and breaking and giving birth and dying all at once....

I'm suddenly whisked off the ground. I still can't move, It's the same room, but it's no longer round. It's a normal dance floor, like the one at a prom or something. There are candles all over the place and one solitary spotlight in the center of the room.

James Sundance "Kid" is standing there alone, head slightly tilted down, looking at the floor. He is also completely clothed in white, but it's not a robe or standard fare.....it's changing even as I look at him. Pieces of tuxedo exchange for a knights armor and then go back again constantly. My subconscious refers to him as Jim, or sometimes Jamie if we're both plastered or scared. For some reason, I say Jamie and it comes out sounding like Jim. I say Jim and it comes out like James. I see him look up at me, amused by my plight. His hair is cropped short in the style of one of those Greek or Roman statues, slightly curled and unruly. He looks like a cross between that and Sweet Sir Galahad, the sinless one...

Suddenly, we're Lancelot and Guinievere, and I go to him. We silently begin to waltz alone in the middle of the room. My white dress always threatens to slip us up, but he never lets us stumble once. The floor begins to spin, and I almost freeze, but his eyes gaze into mine and seem to lock me into the safety of his arms...he won't let the rapidly spinning floor take me away.

The dance does finish. He steps away and the floor begins to pull him toward a door. I call his name again and again in all the forms I know him. I regretfully call him Sundance last, and he changes back into the street rat that I see every day. I'm still pure and clean in my white dress, and I try to go to him. White gloves and black jackets stop me. Jim holds up a hand as I call him back to me. He remains mute, never speaking once in the dream.

I finally break through and go to him, but an invisible wall stops me. I'm paralyzed by the sight before me. Sundance now holds a child, an infant, in his arms. I know it's ours. It has a shock of black hair and deep blue eyes and it looks at me with wonder. He approaches me and tries to put it in my arms...I can't accept it...I won't accept it. Both father and child look at me broken-heartedly and turn away. I beg them to come back, beg them for forgiveness...and they walk out the door.

I run to follow them, now unfrozen. As soon as I step out the door, a tidal wave of water hits me. I am thrust backwards into the room again, and the altar floats right by as I drown silently. I fight for air, my lungs burn, but I don't make it.

I'm now walking on the beach. My white dress is as pure and as immaculate as ever. Then I see the bodies.

Thousands of people lie in front of me, behind me, on either side of me, all dead. I pass a few by, not knowing any of them. They've all been gutted, all female. There are a few that are in stages of decaying...but all look at me with open, blinking eyes. I keep walking. I stop and then head away from the crashing waves. I walk toward the sandy dunes at Sandy Hook, with the scattered pieces of grass that resilently cling to life. I suddenly begin to sob as I trip over corpses of young school girls in uniform, disturbing them...they cry to me, but I can't help. I come across a man's body...I kneel down and brush away some sort of substance.

It's Sundance.

Dead.

My baby brother appears beside me. "Why didn't you save me, too?" he asks, his neck distended at an unnatural angle.

Suddenly, Sundance's hand grabs me by the mouth and pulls me down into the grave with him. My brother looks down sadly....and then the dirt covers both of us...fills my mouth....lungs...and then he.....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I shoot upright and almost scream. I blindly fall to the floor and scramble back to my feet. I gasp and stop myself before I go into hysterics. I look around the room silently. New York, New York. I turn around to see where I had jumped from. I fell out of the makeshift cot Sundance had made. The heat was still on in this building for some reason, and that meant we didn't have to sleep with our coats and layers on.

I get myself reacclamated to the room and to my own body. I stand barefoot on the aging wood floor wearing a tank top and shorts, my bedtime standard. My hair is pull away from my face. I remember falling to sleep on the window sill....

I look at the cot. Sundance still sleeps, with his boots and pants on. Moonlight darts across his exposed chest and face. I let out a breath of relief and of slight bemusement at that man's concentration. When Sundance slept, he was comatose. I silently climb back onto the bed next to him, and he automatically moves over and wraps a bare arm around my waist. All of that without waking up once. He's been trained well.

I slowly drift back into an unwilling sleep.

[Barb Gordon]

7:30 PM

"Don't"
"Don't what?"
"Don't tell me 'Don't what?'....you know you were about to tell me to look on the bright side or some crap."
"No I....so what if I was?"
I grin.
"Just forget it."
I tell Charlie as he drives us both back to the station. Charles will try and find the brighter side of any situation...I do too a lot of the time, but not tonight.
"Ice cream?"
"huh?"
Now it's Charlie's turn to grin.
"Come on, Samantha. Ice cream, my treat."
"You don't have to ask me twice!"
Charlie's a great partner, friend, and yes, even an off again on again boyfriend of sorts. He always knows just the right time to cheer me up and with what. A lot of the time that can really bug me, but not tonight. Tonight is defininetly an ice cream night. Hagen Das to be precise, boy I can't wait. So now twenty minutes later then we planned, Charlie and I are back at the station. Most everyone else went home hours ago except for a few others like ourselves that are staying later hours to work on some very important cases where time is of the essence. Between us, Charlie and I devoured three pints of rocky road hagen das while we poured over paperwork at our desks. We had gotten a great tip about the copy cat killer, and then another one a little while later about the actual photograph killer. Charlie and I headed out at about four in the afternoon to check up on the tips and see where they would lead us. They lead us right back to the station. Damn it. Nothing aggravates me more then false leads...except being led on not one, but two wild goose chases as a result of false leads. Hence the hagen das. I stifle a yawn.
"Shall we call it a night?"
Charlie asks. He gets up and stretches, then heads over to our floors mini fridge and gets out the rest of the hagen das we had bought. He puts it in a paper back and shoves it in my direction.
"What, are you trying to make me fat or something?"
I say in mock anger.
"Heaven forbid."
I take the bag nontheless.
"So...you uh, want to get together and do something later?"
"Do you always have to ask when I'm all set to go home?"
"Sorry."
Charlies falls silent as we take the elevator down to our seperate cars.
"I doubt either of us will be up for anything tomorrow..."
I glance at my watch, 8pm,
"night...I can't believe I'm so tired and it's only 8!But....hey, you could come over to my place the night after next for some dinner, sound like a plan?"
He practically beams.
"Sounds great Samantha. See you later this afternoon back here?"
"Where else?"
I say with a shrug as we step out of the elevator. I toss the bag of hagen das pints onto the passenger side of my car, start the car, buckle up and head off for my apartment.

[Mattashell]

Michael Henry:


We stumble in the darkness. The voices were coming from a man buying a newspaper. We run toward the newstand but he gets away. We choose to interogate the vendor.

Michael: Who was that?
Vender: I don't know, just some guy. Wanted a paper.
Kenya: Don't try to hide anything from us. That could have been anyone, Dirty Dan, the flasher...
Michael: ...or even the photograph killer. What are you doing here?
Vender: Hey I only sell the papers.
Kenya: At this hour?
Vender: A lot of people going home from work this time of night.
Michael: It's not safe around here. I recomend you get home for your own good.
Vender: Are you telling me how to run my business.

Kenya starts kicking the front of the stand. If he wants to hang out in a dangerous neighborhood, it's not my problem. The guy is yelling at her to quit it. While he's focussing on her I reach behind the counter and grab two blister packs of the hook. I hand one to Kenya and we take off running. When we stop I tear open the plastic and pull out the tiny yellow and black aerosol can fromwithin. A keychain dangles from it's top. It's pepper. If anyone gives us trouble we can spray it in their eyes, and it will burn them.

[Freza Resurrected]

7:32 PM outside of Greg's apartment complex

I'm in my car...how did I get here? I still smell cigarrete smoke in here. There door beside me shuts and I see Arnie standing outside the car. He seems really scared about something. The window is rolled down and rain drips inside the car.

"How do you feel now?" He asks the question like we've been talking for a while but I can't remember a thing. "Well, don't worry that stuff should ware off soon. Don't go drinking anything in the medicine cabinet without telling me first."

"What?" I ask.

"I already said I was sorry." He coughs and turns his head away. "You poured out the rest of it and I swear I won't get anymore. Look, you better hurry to the station 'cause you start working at like eight tonight."

I look down and see that I am wearing kaki pants and a white shirt with a poorly tied red tie.

"Yeah, I helped you get dressed but don't look at me like I enjoyed it." he laughs.

What the hell did he do to me?

"A woman called about ten minutes ago reminding you that you need to be at the garage by seven fifty tonight so you better go. Later." He hurries back into the building and leaves me in the car with rain dripping onto my sleeve.

I start the car and drive down the street. It's starting to rain a bit harder now and some kind of green steam leaks out of the manholes. I reach a stoplight but the lights seem different. They seem to stobe and be in odd colors. It's weird but kind of neat looking. It takes three car horns to bring me back to reality.

In the blink of an eye I'm at the car garage. I either got here really fast or...hey what's that? Some kind of bird is on the ground outside my car. It's some kind of tropical thing.

=tap,tap=

Someone is knocking their fingers against my window. I turn around and see Walken dripping wet.

"Let me in ya moron! Cant' you see it's raining out here!"

Does he think I'm going to let him drive my car? Why does everyone think they can drive MY car? Before I know it I'm already in the passenger seat and we've been driving for a few minutes. What did Arnie do to me?

"....and that's when I said 'I took out my garbage three days ago. Close your legs,*****!" he laughs. I give a weak smile because I don't know what he was talking about. "So your partnered with who?"

"Bob Smith."

"No your not. Bob Smith doesn't have a partner never has. I think he's gay anyway."

"The paper said his name was Bob Smith. He's a big guy who smokes a lot."

Walken sighs "That's not Bob Smith and yeah he was in the paper. I think your talking about Bob Marsh. Not sure."

Great. Back to square one again. He's stopping the car. I look around and see a blonde guy. One of those Eminem/Slim Shady wannabe's. He's wearing a large gray coat and he acts nervous.

"I'll be right back kid. This guy's a friend of mine."

"Ok" I reply. I start looking at the guy's shoes. I've never seen shoes this shiny before in my life! Walken talks to the guy and pulls something out of the kid's pocket. They talk for a little longer. How long have I been here?

I look at my watch and it's a little after eight o'clock but the second hand seems to be moving really fast. Really fast. The door slams shut and Walken is back in the car. He opens my glove compartment and throws some kind of plastic bottle in there. He closes it and says "Remind me to get that out later." he winks at me.

Walken scratches his mustache and says "Your a good kid. We should see about being permanent partners."

"Maybe" I say with little feeling.

He starts the car and turns on the windshield wipers. He sniffs the air and says "Storm's coming."

[Freza Resurrected]

Amsterdam Houses 8:22 PM

I'm getting cold. More rain falls every second and it is ruining my mood. My black hood is rolled ontop of my head to look like a sockcap and it is soaking up most of the rain and leaving it on my bald head. They are two minutes late. Both of them should be walking home any minute. WHERE ARE THEY!!!.... there they are their shirts are wet and sticking to their flesh their running...ohhhhhh yeah...they both are holding newspapers over their heads as the rain falls. I watch as they run past me and then quickly open the door to the apartment building. The door shuts and I loose sight of them. I look down at my heavy green briefcase. My grandpa used to use it when he was a salesman. Should I pretend to be a salesman like I did the first time? second time? or do I....hrmmmm..I've seen the way they act around strangers when they walk across the streets. They wouldn't open the door for me. I better go! I run up the steps and quickly open the door. The wind pulls it shut sending a loud bang throughout the lobby. I up a flight of stairs and I see my beauties only a few yards away. They aren't in a hurry anymore. We reach their floor and I stand there and watch them unlock the door to their room. My weak arm trembles and I drop the briefcase on the floor.
They both turn and look at me and then quickly turn their attention back to unlocking the door. We are but twenty feet apart. Ooooooohhhh their soooo beautiful. The door opens and the first blonde walks in and then the next. When the second blonde kicks the door behind her and continues to walk inside I kneel down and push the briefcase as hard as I can and it slides into the doorway. The door bounces off of the briefcase and swings back inside. The girl turns around and looks at the briefcase while I run at full speed at the door. Adreniline pumping! So great! She looks up at me, screams, tries to shut the door but IT'S TOOO LATE!!!! I kick the back again and she falls to the floor. I'm in their apartment! Oooooh....The second blonde jogs out of the bathroom and sees her friend on the floor and then me locking the door.

[Freza Resurrected]

OOC: About my future posts as photokiller; I will not be posting in great detail what the killer does to the two girls. What he does/did will be discovered by the police. Out of good taste I will not and I repeat will not write in great detail the description of an act of multiple rape. I like to keep my sanity intact thank you very much.
IC:
Where: I don't know.
The time: 8: something

"Royale with cheese." Walken says abruptly.

"What?"

"Royale with cheese. That's what the french call a quarter pounder with cheese." He laughs.

"What the **** does that have to do with anything?" I usually never ever say that word. Why did I say it now?

Walken laughs harder "I was just ****ing with you kid. If you want to be serious then we'll be serious. Ok?"

"Ok" I say as I nod my head. My vision is still blurred.

"What the hell are we suposed to be doing right now?" I didn't see that question coming.

My body shivers and then I laugh "I don't know to be honest. This job just sucks. We have no leads at all really on the real photograph killer. The other one will probably...dist..distinguish? Distinquish himself more by changeing his ways soon. At least that's what the doctors say. All we do is wait. Wait for him to kill again and it sucks."

Walken coughs "What's black and blue and hates sex?" he asks.

I'm surprised by the question because I have no idea what it's suposed to mean. "What?"

"A rape victim." he starts to laugh until he sees that I don't think it's funny.

I turn away from him and look out my window. The tiny rain drops seem to change colors and it's kinda funny. My body shakes some more and I feel like throwing up.

"Hey kid."

I don't feel like turning back to face Walken. My body shakes some more.

"What the **** is wrong with you kid? Oh. haha. I get it." He says as parks the car outside an alley. For the rest of my life I will be afraid of going into alley ways. He turns off the engine and grabs me. I can't seem to move right now. Not that I'm weak but I just feel kind of lazy I guess you could say. He looks into my eyes and laughs. "I worked on narcotics for a while. Looks like you got a taste for LSD or something like it."
That's what was in the bottle! Arnie's been getting drugs and putting it in medicine bottles. Oh ****. How much of that stuff did I..
I begin to cough violently and blood splaters on Walken's face. He throws my body against my door. My head hits the glass hard window hard and it hurts like hell.

"Christ!" He yells as he pulls what looks like a napkin out of his coat pocket and wipes his face off. "Your really ****ed up kid. I kind of feel like taking you to a doctor but I have a better idea instead." He smiles and gets out of the car.

I strain to roll down my window an inch as he walks to the other side of my car. "What are you going to do?" I mumble.

"I just noticed that someone I locked up not too long ago is out again and I gotta go have a chat with them. I'll be back in a few minutes." I can't understand what he is talking about but I watch him walk down the sidewalk and approach an asian girl wearing a dress that is really bright. It looks kinda cool. Like it's pink when she turns one way and then green when she turns another way. Cool. They are argueing about something now and Walken is grabbing her by the rist and pulling her down the sidewalk.
I guess we are arresting her but wait...he's taking her into the alley. What's he doing now? Should I get out of the car? My body stops shaking and I feel a little bit better.

The radio which I just got not too long ago comes on. A woman says something about a possible domestic disturbance or disrupting the peace. I don't have all of the number thingies memorized yet. I start to laugh but then I come to my senses. The radio said something about a woman's scream in an apartment building.

I pick it up and press the button "What was the name of that apartment building again?"

~Amsterdam Houses between Amsterdam Avenue and West End Avenue~

"Which room?" There is no reply. Wait! I forgot to hold down on the button. "Which room?"

~Um..I'm not sure.~

"Dammit! This department is ****ed up!" There I go swearing my brains out again...oh **** I was still holding the button. But at least the woman didn't reply to me. I'm not in the mood for an arguement.

I roll down the window and rain strikes my arm and face. "Walken! Walken come on! The killer might have done something! We have to get to the Amsterdam houses now!" he doesn't come out. I can't see him! The alley is too dark! "Walken! Come one! Get out here now!" I open the door to my car and stumble out. The sidewalk is slippery and the rain continues to pour down.
I start to feel scared I hate alleyways but then I see Walken standing behind a dumpster moaning and the asian girl on her knees.

"What the hell is going on?" I exclaim.

Walken flinches and the girl stands up and wipes her mouth off. Walken pulls up his pants with one hand and walks toward me. He looks mad but I don't care.

"What the hell do you think your doing?" I ask as he makes a fist and then punches me in the gut. Blood shoots forth out of my mouth and it burns my throat. The little asian girl screams. Walken hits me on the back of the head hard and things start to go black....

[Harvey Dent]

The sound of a ringing phone jars me out of my slumber.

"Oh, what the hell....Hello?"

"Good evening, Michael."

"Evening? Victor, it's...it's twelve in the morning."

"Sorry. I forgot about that."

I'll bet he did.

"Why don't you call me at a more reasonable hour?"

"This is important."

"Victor, I'm exhausted, okay? I really need to get some sleep."

"I take it you had another party with that blonde of yours."

"Victor..."

"There's been a change in plans. Murdoch wouldn't hand me what I wanted, but I have the next best thing."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm going after Montreal."

"Mon...you're not making any sense."

"The Expos, you moron! I'm flying in to Kennedy at noon your time to meet with Selig. I have assurances from Murdoch that he'll back my proposal, and Angelos may assist."

"Wait, let me get this straight. You are going to purchase the Montreal Expos and bring them to the city?"

"Yes. I will explain everything when I arrive at the airport. Meet me there. Remember, I'll be arriving at 12 PM. Don't be late."

"Fine."

I drop the phone back into place and rub my face. I can't believe how tired I am. Then I hear a small murmur behind me.

"It's alright. Go back to sleep."

I look at her and shake my head. I really need to stop mixing drinks before bed. I'm liable to drive myself to an early grave.

[Freza Resurrected]

The girl shakes me back and forth. She keeps saying something over and over again but I can't understand a word she says. It's chinese or japanese or something. My eyes flutter open and I look at the world around me.
There is a puddle of blood on the ground beside me. Probably mine. My throat is burning and my head is throbing.
The girl looks like she isn't even sixteen and...Walken! Where is he? I try to stand but I feel weak in the knees. The girl helps me stand up and I look at where my car once was. Where Walken went, I don't know and I don't think this girl is going to be able to tell me.

"Do-you-speak-english?" I ask.

"No. I no speak it." she says.

The rain pours down our faces like tears. The sound of lighting shatters the air and I suddenly remember the call that came over the radio. This girls a prostitute probably so she should know where certain places are. I bet she's made some housecalls.

"Amsterdam Houses?" she looks at me like I'm stupid. "Do you know where the Amsterdam Houses are?" she says something in another language which must mean she understands me on some level.

"Dammit! Where are the Amsterdam Houses?"

"es at way!" She yells while pointing her finger.

"Thanks."

I run out of the alley leaving the horrible memories behind me and I continue in search of new ones. I run up to a large puerto rican with a beard. "Where are the Amsterdam Houses? I'm a police officer!"

"Um..."

My head starts to hurt again and I feel like throwing up. "Sir, do you know where they are?"

"Why what's goin' on?"

"Do you know where they are?"

"You could take the subway but it isn't that far. You could probly cutt across those alleys about a block ahead and get there in just a couple of minutes. What's going on?"

I leave without a 'thank you' and run down the sidewalk, pushing and shoveing every New Yorker that gets in my way. I turn to my left and run down the alley. I try not to look at the homeless or anything else for that matter. I've already seen far too much down these alleys. As I run I check my watch and it is two minutes until nine o'clock. I wish I could remember what time I recieved the call.
My body shakes and I start to get tired. I trip over a cardboard box and fall flat on my face. While I'm on the ground I spew forth some yellow liquid with a hint of my own blood. I don't feel like getting up. I roll over and I swallow the few drops of rain that fall into my mouth. I wish an asian hooker would help me to my feet right about now.
But I didn't see a single person down the alley. Even though I tried not to look for them I did and I didn't see one. Oh God! I'm just a few blocks away and the killer could be having his way with a young girl right now. The cardboard box I tripped over looks like it is changing colors and rolling. Damn my life sucks.

A bone chilling scream comes from behind me..or infront of me. I've lost all sense of direction. I push myself off of the ground enough so I can stand on my knees. I turn around to see total darkness. Lighting strikes in the distance illuminating the alley to reveal a tall slender male with Freddy Crugger like fingers on one of his hands walking towards me.

[Mattashell]

Great, it's starting to rain now (obviously this is back a little while at first.)

Kenya: That's just great. I knew I shouldn't have listened to this dumb white boy's idea. I'm out of here.
Michael: Wait, I have an umbrella at the squat, we can go get it.
Kenya: If I go back there, I'm staying.
Michael: We aren't that far, you can wait here while I go get it.
Kenya: You mean like this one?

She was teasing me. She pulls the compact umbrella from her coat and unfolds it. Not only did she have an umbrella all along, I recognize it as MY umbrella. She holds it up overhead and comes closer so it covers both of us. She puts her arm around my waiste. I push her away. I don't like being touched, but part of me wants her to. I have to remain solitary, friends can hurt you, and you can hurt the people you love. That's what life has taught me. I protect both of us by keeping the distance.

A few hours later we hear some screams and come running. When we get there we see a drunk stumbling down the ally in some kind of hurry. He left a puddle of some nasty looking puke and a bunch of confused looking hookers. I'm trying to talk to the ladies, but the shake their heads like they don't know english.

Now this flashy lookin' pimp mutha comes yelling at us. He can tell we're transiants and doesn't want us bothering his girls. I've seen him before, don't know his name. It's best not to confront him. He can't help us, and his type are often dangerous, so we run.

When we come out the other side of the ally we are in an abandoned lot. I've never seen this place before. At the end of the lot I lean against the glass window on the front of the building still standing there. It looks like it used to be a resteraunt. I'm looking at Kenya looking at me. She really is a beutiful girl, she's worked up a sweat from running and she takes off her jacket. Her muscles ripple up her arms like an athlete. I'd hate to ever engage her in fisticuffs. She smiles and her lips remind me of someone I knew in my old life, someone I once loved, but like that person, love is something I've left behind me.

Kenya: Why don't you take a picture boy?

[The Guitar Slayer]

IC: Sundance
12:22 AM

I come out of my sleep for a second time that evening. Myself and Cassidy had turned in about 9 PM. Early, I know, but she were both wrecks after today. I fear the future. Lord knows what will happen. Janie (how rarely I call her that) had fallen out of bed about 11 PM or so. It woke me up, but I didn't bother to open my eyes; she would have just told me to close them again. She never had nightmares like this. Usually she would jolt a little and gasp, but this time, she muffled a scream and vaulted herself out of the bed.

Her head is pillowed on my shoulder, my arm wrapped securely around her. She almost looks younger than I feel comfortable with...knowing our luck... She sleeps peacefully now. Her sleep cycle should be coming around again, meaning I can wake her up if we have to move...I better check that. I carefully disentangle myself from Janie's limbs that unconsciously cling to my half clothed body. I slide out from under her and stealthily grab my shirt off the floor, where it had fallen earlier. I make my way to the door and slip out.

I hear voices from down the hall. Someone is here. The building is rundown, with boards missing. There's a stench of human excrement eminating from a backed up bathroom...or from one of the other inhabitants. I listen in before breaking in on the conversation. I remain in the shadows, letting my voice rumble. I'm not the most fear-inspiring person. Cassidy is a tenacious little thing and can make herself look like she's about to rip somebody's ankles off. I, on the other hand, am too laid back for such theatre. "Evenin'."

The occupants on the floor below me look up through the cracks. They are momentarily frozen, then they realize I'm just one of the vagrants that pass through. "Got a line?"

"Nah."

"A smoke?" Yellow stained teeth flash up hopefully at me.

"The old lady smoked them all." I allow myself a guilty pleasure by referring to Cassidy as such.

"B****." That was a definite ankle-ripping statement.

"What's the deal on places 'round here?" My boots creak on the rotted wood, and I step back.

"Nothin' good anymore. The methos and the 'roiders take 'em, and they don't let that stuff go. There is one place..." the gruff voice trails off.

I seize upon it. "Where?"

"You desperate?" He hears possible money, drug, or sex ring in his ears.

"Nah. Just curious...tell me about this place." I see slitted eyes from my standpoint. "I'm going to need a place to crash...I've been screwing around, and the old lady won't be happy when she finds out."

He guffaws. "They're stupid.."

"Not when one of the whores I was screwin' with got knocked up."

"You're f***ed, man." He pauses. "Was she good?" I let out a very descriptive laugh...well, the one I WAS messing around with was VERY good...excellent even...I return the favor, always...

I see him shift a little. "Alright, here's the thing. Abandoned restuarant about 15 blocks from here. Long city blocks...anyway, it's in nice shape, and there is supposedly food and stuff in there, but..."

"But what?" I pry.

"Two guys went in once and never came back out...the people who went in there after them said there was THAT smell..." He was not speaking of wine and roses, that was for sure. "Nobody went in there after that."

I pause to consider my options. Where else are we to go? Stay here, and we will be found for sure. Go to the underground right away, and they'll catch us; that cop isn't stupid. So let's go where angels (and everybody else) fear to tread.

"Thanks, man." I turn away without another word, and I walk back down the hall to the room where I left Cassidy. She's still asleep. I bend down and massage her shoulders gently. "Wake up, darlin'."

She mumbles at me, and before she's coherent, I tell her we're leaving. Cassidy looks at me. "Why are we leaving in the middle of the night?" She goes tense. "Are the cops here?" is her next question, in hushed tones.

"No...but I think I have a safe place for us. It's an old restaurant, possibly with some food. Nobody goes there." I sit on the bed next to her.

She looks at me sideways. "There has to be a reason for that."

I watch her. "They're just rumors."

She faces me. "Rumors are based in fact." Janie looks away, then at me again. "We gotta be careful, then."

I silently nod and draw nearer. As the usual warmth rushes through me as we kiss, I realize that this will be fleeting….so I decide to make it a little more involved….

After a few minutes, Cassidy pushes me back and gets up. “On your feet soldier. Let’s move out,” she says as she buttons up my shirt with one hand, and fends my hands off with the other. She tosses me my sweater and gets herself decent again. Then we head out into the cold, lonely, deep dark night.

OOC: Hey Mattashell...my people are heading into the restaurant. What time do you want to meet? It's definitely going to be after the visit to the restaurant. 2 AM?

[Harvey Dent]

This is just great. Victor calls me at 12 in the damn morning to tell me about his greatest aquisition, and now I can't get back to sleep.

"Michael? Michael, are you up?"

"(sigh)...yeah, I'm up?"

Last night's date comes walking into the kitchen in a silk, silver robe. She's blonde, about 5'5", and has killer legs. Best..."date"...I've ever had.

"Why aren't you in bed?"

"I can't sleep."

She sits down on the kitchen table, crosses one leg, and starts to lightly graze my left hand with her fingertips.

"Mind if I ask why?"

"I have a hard time getting back to sleep after something disturbs me."

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I've tried everything. There's just no way I'm getting back to sleep."

The blonde shifts back, bringing her legs onto the table.

"Well, if you're not going back to sleep, then maybe we can do something while you're awake."

With chin in hand and elbow on table, she looks at me and smiles.

"Well...it's an idea."

As I get up from my seat, she grabs my arm and shakes her head.

"No, not there."

"What, you mean here...in the kitchen?"

"Are you up for it?"

Up for it? That's a damned understatement.

"What the hell. It should be...educational."

"Oh, you have no idea."

As she reaches for me, I start to think about my eariler gripes. Suddenly, being unable to sleep doesn't seem so bad anymore.

[Barb Gordon]

OOC: Please remember to post times everyone! And thanks very much for continuing to post so much, and I apologize for my post taking so long--school has been my main focus, especially with my first tests and papers coming up!

IC: roughly 9 PM or so

I can't find anything better to do after a tiring day at work then being curled up on the couch with a pint of hagen das, watching You've Got Me. Well, a nice looking guy at my door would probably complete the picture, but this'll do. There's an urgent knock at my door right when at my favorite scene. Setting the hagen das aside I scramble for the door.
"Yes?"
I say as I open. Charlie. Well, he is good looking, and complete the scene oddly enough, except that he breathing hard and looks incredibly antsy. He gives me a once over in my cropped police gym top and leggings before looking me in the face again.
"Big..come on....change and we gotta go."
"Could you try and speak in complete sentences, Charlie? Big, what's big?"
He takes in a few deep breaths, he must of raced up all 5 stories to get to my apartment door.
"Amsterdam Houses. Just came over the radio. Greg and Walken are on it too but have yet to get there."
"Then we've got to get there first!"
I exclaim, finishing off his train of thought. He nods and closes the door behind him as I race into my bedroom and change into a pair of pants, t shirt and long jacket. I slip my gun into it's holster under my arm as I come back to the living room. Charlie is munching on MY hagen das watching the rest of the movie.
"She's cute."
He comments, pointing to Meg Ryan after finishing off the last of the hagen das.
"And you're horny and a pig, so what else is new?"
I say, grabbing the empty pint carton and tossing it in the trash on my way to the door. Once outside I just manage to close the passenger door to Charlie's car as he begins to gun it to Amsterdam Houses.
"So what do we know?"
"Not much. Domestic disturbance of some sort. Report says there was screaming."
I glance over towards him, eyes wide and he nods,
"Could be him."
"Can't this car going any faster?"
I shouldn't have asked. With a grin Charlie pushes the speed and races through the slick streets as rain splatter everywhere. Screeching to a halt a couple yard from the building we get out.
"I'm never letting you drive again."
I mutter as we both creep our way to the house. The building is in a horrible state, it reeks of trash and god only knows what else, the paint is peeling off and most of the windows are broken and a few just boarded up.
"This place reeks."
"Thank you Mr.Obvious."
Pulling my gun from my holster, Charlie following suit, we climb the steps and enter the building. The main doors creak as we push them open. I shield my eyes as someone flashes a light right into our eyes.
"Whose there?"
"We're the police."
"Thank God."
The light lowers and a young indian man approaches us.
"I heard screams coming from somewhere upstairs."
He begins with a shudder.
"Horrible sounds. I freaked, borrowed my friend's cell phone and called 911. It's so quiet up there now."
"You better stay outside, more police should be coming."
He nods eagerly and rushes past us. Pulling out his own flashlight, Charlie guides us up the rickety stairs.
"How're we gonna know which apartment it is?"
I shake my head, visibly angered by the setback this will be.
"Well, we can just check them all, or make guesses."

~Barb

OOC:I'll post more later perhaps...gotta get to class!

[Freza Resurrected]

OOC: I'm very drained from school so bare with me as I try to write this. On a lighter note; since I'm physically and mentally drained, it does give me a better understanding for my character. Here we go..

IC:

The same place we were last time I posted, 9:12 PM sounds ok.

What was that?! That reach for my holster and find that my gun is gone. Damn you Walken!!!! I don't hear any footsteps...maybe I was just seeing things.

"Oh God!" A woman hidden in the darkness cries out in agony.

Hearing things I hope. A street light far behind me goes out and now I can't even see my hands in front of my face. It's all too convenient like some kind of slasher flick. Lighting streaks across the sky and lights the alleyway for a moment. I see a guy sitting down on the ground in front of me. Watching me. He doesn't have Freddy Krugger hands. He has two knife blades tied or taped or glued to his index and middle finger. I feel a warmth rush over me but I quickly realize that I just pissed myself. It's the photograph killer. It has to be. He was probably leaving the apartment and maybe taking one of the girls with him. I might as well try to talk to him.

"Photograph killer." I say. My voice is shakey. There is nothing but silense for what feels like an eternity.

"No."

The hair on my kneck stands on end and chill runs down my spine. If the devil has a voice it sounds like this. With that one word I could feel the shear evil in this guy.

"Your voisssssssssssss." He continues to speak. "haha. It trembles."

I don't know what to say "It..it happens. Who are you?"

"Who are you?"

Do I tell him I'm a cop? Would it strike fear in him or would it give him more insentive to kill me? I've got nothing to loose. I'll say detective.

"Detective Hinrich. Now who are you?"

"Officer Hinrich. Your not a detective yet."

"How did you know?" How does he know that? He's part of my imagination! I know it! The lighting strikes and he is gone. No! Not gone he's behind me! The blades are inches from my throat!

"I know EVERYTHING!" He whispers.

I never did anything with my life. Not a damn thing. I stop myself from going into a nervous breakdown and continue to talk to the psycho.

"I don't know everything! Who are you?"

"ssssssssSSideny. That's all you need to know. For now. But don't worry Greg. I'm not going to kill you. The fear in your voice is satisfaction enough for me."

"How do you know my first name..and my position on the.."

"I WATCH, Greg! And I'm going to keep watching!"

I feel the cold metal touch my throat. "Why are you watching me?"

He gets closer to me and his lips touch the back of my ear. "Because I want to. Because I like to."

"Your not real." I tell him and myself.

"They hell I'm not!" He exclaims as the blades dig into my throat on the verge of bleeding. "Many things don't make sense you little ****. I could slit your throat and find another if that would make you feel better. Would it?"

"NO. No it wouldn't"

He licks the back of my hear and grunts "Good. About the photograph killer. You crossed pathes with him the very morning you and Bobby met."

"What? Who? How?"

"Retrace your steps lover. That's the only way you'll find him."

"Why are you doing this?" I ask the blades move away from my thoat. The woman screams at the end of the alley again.

"Because." His voice is farther away now "I like watching you."

Lighting strikes and the thunder is so loud and powerful that the ground shakes and the rain seems to come from underneath for a second. In that second of light I see that the alley is empty. No dying woman. No Sidney. But a scratch on my throat stings.

[The Guitar Slayer]

IC: Cassidy
1:10 AM

We've been walking for more time than I've technically been conscious. I can carry on whole convos and not know what the hell I said five minutes later when I do wake up. I do remember, however, Sundance and myself necking and groping for a few minutes before we left, so I must not be too mad at him.

I hope he knows where he's going. It's 1 in the blessed AM in NYC. Bunch of meth addicts running around still on their highs, paranoid insomniacs, goths with fetishes, and...us. Sundance keeps me close to him, partially for warmth, partially for security reasons. At about the 14th or 15th long block, he jolts to a stop. I'm only half conscious and I stumble forward. He grabs my shoulder and pulls me back.

"Honestly, hon," I mumble, "I forget why we're here."

He looks down at me. "See what all that pot does?"

I scowl at him. "You got me up before I woke up."

"You agreed to go."

"I was half-asleep."

"The half I was with was wide awake." All men are horny bastards. Just FYI and a little reminder to myself. He continues despite my evil glare. "We're here to stock up on some food, matches, and anything else we can find in the restaurant. It's habitable..."

I cut him off. "Yeah, and I do remember the missing people who went in there. And I remember why we're going anyway. Let's hurray up and get this over with."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I use an old hairpin to jimmy the lock and Sundance kicks the door in with his trusty prehistoric Weargards. The place is pitch black inside. Sundance and I feel our way around the walls until he hits the dimmer switch. The light flickers on slowly.

There was dust and plywood all over the place, but it is tolerable. This appears to be the old delivery entrance to the place. It is a wide open room with red tile and cream colored paint on the walls and ceiling. The metal doors lead out to the kitchen and the freezer.

I snoop around the kitchen, looking underneath the counters for some munchies and supplies. A small box is still there, and it has a couple of steak knives in there. I check to see if my pacifist partner is still trying to open the pantry and then take a knife and its sheath and stick it into my boot.

"Darlin', let's load up." Sundance dramatically swings the door open. My mouth waters at the canned goods and stuff haphazardly set on the shelves. I begin to pocket various nonperishable items and put some into a makeshift knapsack I found inside. It seems as though it either was recently shut down....or someone restocked it.

Sundance wanders away from me, and it isn't until I see the door to the eating area of the restaurant swing shut that I decide to ask him what's going on.

His back is turned to me as he looks out at the tables and chairs. He is motionless. A smell begins to waft into my olefactory senses. I'm still not at 100% awakeness, so it's not registering. I step forward to stand beside Sundance. "Jim?"

He nearly hits the ceiling. I open my mouth to ask what's going on and to apologize, but a single wild-eyed look stops me in my tracks. "I think we're done here, Cass." He does a complete aboutface and gently yanks me back toward the kitchen.

As I go, I catch site of a lumpy figure. A passing car illuminates the form through the front glass window. At the same moment, my mind makes the connection to my nose.

The smell of death

Of rotting flesh

Of corpses


Now I really do feel like I'm about to s*** a brick.

I throw a glance at Jamie. He's pale and draw as we pass through the doors to the kitchen. We stand there a moment in shock. How long were they there? Will the killer becoming back? What's gonna happen? What if it catches us here?

My mind races. I feel the world spin...I don't wanna faint here...it'll slow him down. Gotta get...gotta go....

rattle rattle

rattle rattle

What the hell is that?

rattle rattle clink

Front door.

My mouth drops open, but Jamie clamps his hand over it. We stare at each other.

Then we get the ---- out of there.

We run as fast as we can. Block after block speed by. I hear him gasping as he keeps up with me. I'm sucking air pretty hard myself. I get tunnel vision as colors at the edge of eyes swirl. My heart is ready to burst with the exertion.

Suddenly, there are two sets of footsteps right behind us.

I start praying for salvation from eternal damnation as I feel myself wear down. Jamie lunges forward to try to drag me along, but he's deader than I am.

"FREEZE!!" a surprisingly young voice yells.

I turn around. I feel like melting into a puddle of relief. It's a couple of kids...kids that are armed, but kids and not psychos. Hopefully.

We try to stagger away, but they catch up to us soon enough. "We'll mace you two if you don't stop movin'" the girl threatens us. The other, the boy who yelled at us, pats us down as she grips the mace can. He doesn't bother to pat down the thick boots; he wouldn't feel it anyway. I look across at Sundance. His eyes are clouded over with worry, but seem to be rather good-humored about the whole deal.

I can't believe it. I still have the bag of goods with me; I realized that after the boy rifled through it and thrust it back at me. "Why were you running like that?"

"Saw something we shouldn't have," I answer quickly.

The boy narrows his eyes at me. I tell him a half truth of why we were running. "I saw an attempted murder yesterday afternoon on that Douglas guy. The cops are hunting for me." Hope he doesn't ask why we have canned goods and just ran a city cross country.

He does. "Why'd you run out of the restaurant like that? We saw it all."

Sundance exhales. "There are bodies in there. Dead ones. We came in to grab a bite to each, and we made the unpleasant discovery. Looking at our hands and clothes, we obviously didn't commit a murder."

The girl raises the mace can as does the boy. Terrific job, Sundance...

The boy drops his hand to the side. "I believe them. What did you see yesterday?"



OOC: Take it, Mattashell

[Freza Resurrected]

9:50 PM, Amsterdam Houses

I always heard that this was a good place to live. When I first moved here this was suposed to be one of the best places in the city to live. Eventually I came to check it out with Arnie and we saw what it had became.
The large building in front of me reaks of dicay. The kind of place only the poor and desperate would live. Maybe college girls that are low on cash live here. It makes sense..kind of.
I stumble across the street and countless motorists curse and honk at me. The noise hurts my ears and causes my entire head to pound out of sync with the loud beats of my heart. The rain feels like it is freezing to my face because it is so cold.
I see Charlie or I think her name is Samantha?Sam's? Car parked outside the building. At least I won't be the only one in there searching for him or what he has done. As I slowly walk up the steps of the enterance I hear a car come to a screetching halt. I turn around and see my own car being parked across the street. Walken gets out of the car and runs across the street and before I know it he's standing right in front of me. I don't know how he moved so fast. Maybe it's because my adrenaline is pumping so hard or maybe it's the drugs. All I know is everything is moving way too fast.
"I came as soon as I heard. Where have you been?!" He asks.

"You know where I've been you son of a *****." I reply.

"What are you talking about?" he says. Before I can get even more pissed off he starts to laugh. "I'm just F***ing with you, kid. And I'm willing to forget this whole incident."

"I'm not. I'm gonna make sure you loose your job and.."

He Grabs me and slams my body against the door to the apartment building. "How about I suggest to Sergeant Michaels that we do drug tests on all the detectives and pissant officers like you who think they are detectives?"

"They'd get you to!"

"No they wouldn't. Heh, I only sell the ****. After working in narcotics I've seen what it does to the body. Plus you've still got some more LSD in your car."

"I could go find that little girl you were having such a good time with and.."

"What? She could testify with "Me love you long time." ? Haha. Forget it kid or else you'll be in a whole heep of trouble. Let's just go inside and find that rapeing *******. You can arrest him, get tons of awards and become a detective. Hell, maybe even become a fed one day. Who knows! You got your whole life ahead of you so don't f*** it up by f***ing with me." He lets go of me, pushes me aside and opens the door. "After you."

[Barb Gordon]

OOC: I do live, somewhat, sorry for not posting in a while.

IC: Samantha McKay

(not sure of the time...)

Charlie and I have been checking each apartment as quickly as possible. It's something that will easily give me nightmares for the next couple of weeks...I literally shudder at some of the things I saw.
"Hey Sam..."
I here Charlie start before he trails off suddenly. He gestures lazily with his gun from his spot at a dirty and cracked window. I make my way across the rotting floorboards to where he is.
"What?"
He nods his head toward two figures in the street. It looks like that new rookie cop...god I suck at names...and Walken. I breath in sharply and wrinkle my nose. I hate that man. Charlie nods in agreement with my thoughts. Without a word he suddenly thrust open the window and sticks his head outside.
"Hey, Walkie!!!"
He calls out loudly, I swear the whole block could hear him. I can see Walken's head shoot up and he backs a step or two away from the rookie. He looks ready to kill.
"What do you want?"
He half snarls, half hisses back at Charlie.
"Well are you two going to cuddle in the street for a couple more hours or are you going to give us a hand???"
Charlie cheerfully retorts.
"Come on kid, we could use a hand."
He continues, motioning for the rookie to come into the building. The rookie looks over the building warily, but deciding his chances inside were better then staying out with Walken, he quickly loped inside. Walken continued to glare. This time I shoved Charlie away from the window and stuck out my own head.
"Well, Walken. Are you going to help us, or do you have some other 'business' to attend to?"
I ask sweetly. He looks undecided on whether he wants to say something nasty, or nothing at all. He shakes his head,
"I've got better things to do then waste my time talking with you two.."
He trails off for lack of thinking of some nasty name for Charlie and I.
"Yeah, I bet you do..."
I respond and promptly close the dilapidated window. I follow Charlie out into the hallway again to meet up with the rookie.

[Freza Resurrected]

Inside The Amsterdam Houses
10:11 PM

It looks far worse on the inside. I remember it as a more beautiful place but now..it..like the victims of the photograph killer has been raped and ravaged. I stand in the lobby for a moment and wait for my eyes to adjust to the dark.

"Hey Rookie come on up." A voice calls out from above.

I look up and squent my eyes to see Sam standing on a balcony. Part of the second floor that overlooks the lobby. I take a deep breath and walk over to the staircase that leads to the balcony but not to the other floors. Every step makes and even more eerie noise under my feet. I pause and look ahead of myself to see nothing but black.
That feeling I got yesterday...that feeling..that scared little boy that wants to run home crying feeling isn't as strong as before. In the past two days I have seen the worst of human nature. At least I hope it is. I'm probably wrong. If I keep walking up those steps...it's only going to get worse. But I can't go back.
I step out onto the balcony and see Sam. Someone touches my shoulder and I quickly turn around and push him to the ground.

"Easy there,Biggin'!" Charlie laughs.

How could this jerk laugh? Sam laughs too and it gets me even more frustrated. They don't seem to take their job very seriously. It's good for them so they can keep their sanity but bad for the people they are trying to save.

"We already checked the rooms on this floor and almost all of them on the second. So far all we've managed to do is piss off a lot of tired poor people." She says with a smile. "Go ahead and check the third floor while Charlie and I finish up the second."

"What about the other floors?" I ask.

"The guy who reported the disturbance lives on the first floor so he wouldn't have heard anything any higher than the third floor. And the killer would have wanted to make a quicker getaway afterward so he would have got a lower floor."

I nod my head, turn around and walk past Charlie and then down the hallway.
They didn't even notice the blood,sweat, and vomit on my clothes it's so dark in this place. That guy probably couldn't hear the scream from his apartment or down in the lobby. It's too dark around here for someone to just be walking around. He was up to something.
I reach the third floor and look down the long hallway. I see long and deep scratches on the floor that lead to the door at the very end of the hallway. My legs are shaking as I walk down the hallway. I reach down and touch the scratches. Tiny wood grains are still over the scratches. It is either fresh or no one has been threw here in a long time.

I knock on the rotting door once...

Twice...

Three times...

I start to kick it..it only takes two kicks to get it to cave in. When the door caves in I realize that I still don't have a gun. When My heart starts to beat again and I open my eyes I see a room covered in blood. Two dead bodies, completely mutilated, one ontop of the other. The pose would look sexual if there was anything left that would still look erotic. The smell of death is so strong that I start to go into dry convulsions. I stumble inside in all of my violent gagging and I get a glimps of a video camera still standing on a tri-pod.

[Mattashell]

Michael

I tell Kenya to put away the can, they look like a couple of hippies. They will probably not harm us. Potheads for sure, possibly into worse, but that doesn't make them dangerous. Then they mention that assassination attempt. As I go over the details I actually recall seeing them there.I'm interested, I tell them all about my perspective, including passing out. Kenya is like, "Oh, boo hoo, cry me a river, white boy." and she pinches my butt. I jump and move away. I don't like being touched, but I kind of do like it. Please, don't let me become attracted to her, she's a dealer, and you might say a gang member. Besides, I shouldn't be getting involved with anyone. I must keep my anonimity. It is vital to my survival.

I continue my story, and accidentally let it out that I was concerned about being recocgnised by those cops, when the male one interupts me. He says, thay can understand being on the run, but can they?

I trust the a little though, There is floorspace back at the squat. I ask them if they need shelter. It's raining hard, and it is late. I intended to patrol all night, but Kenya seems reatless, and I doubt those other clowns are still out patrolling their side. They probably turned back at the first raindrop. The more tired I get the less important these patrols seem.

[The Guitar Slayer]

OOC: Correct me if I do anything out of your plan, Mattashell.

IC: Sundance
1:10 AM

I exhale lightly as the girl puts the can back on her belt clip. Cassidy's shoulders untense, but her knuckles are still white as she clutches the bag. "We were playing a gig on the corner a bit down the street and across from the mayor's office. We were less than a block away from the builder where the sniper was..." I begin.

The boy's eyes light up and he nods. He does remember our presence there. Cassidy continues the tale. "My buddy here was getting ready for another song, and I was organizing some sheet music when I heard this voice and some shots. I saw this figure in black....I can see his face in my mind," she softly trails off. She refocuses again. "The second it all stopped we ran like hell to get away. They're probably looking for me...Lord knows what they'll do."

"That voice you heard went 'hey!' a couple of times, right?" The boy looks to her for verification. She nods. "That was me. Sorry if I made you look and put you on the run like this." He nervously rubs the back of his neck.

"Nah. I'm nosey as hell, and I would've looked the second I heard the shots anyway." Cassidy dismisses the boy's brief episode of guilt with a hand. "What'd you see, man?"

He eases up and gives us some information regarding his position relative to the sniper. He apparently was extremely close to the sniper at the time of the attempt, but couldn't have stopped him. I note the tilt of Cassidy's head as she listens. I can tell she is sympathetic for the boy; he's barely 17, give or take a year. That was about the age she struck out solo...before the Leonardo bus station...

"How'd you get away?" I ask.

The boy looks down, slightly embarrassed. "I didn't. Fainted in the middle of the street. I was so scared I..."

The boy is interrupted as the girl pinches his ass nice and hard. "Oh, boo hoo, cry me a river, white boy." I stifle a laugh and give a sidelong look at Cassidy. These two were apparently cut from a similar cloth. She doesn't notice my look as she watches the boy's face turn from a mixure of surprise and annoyment to that of contemplative unsureness of whether he liked it or not. Man, he really is young.

Cassidy and the boy swap details as myself and the girl eyeball each other. She doesn't trust Cassidy or me, but she is going along with it because her trusted friend is. Sounds familiar....

I tune back into the conversation as the boy continues to fill Cassidy in on what the cops said and did. "I gave them a false address. I really don't them questioning me and all."

"Cops always make people, especially innocents, uncomfortable. That's part of their job." Cassidy's mouth curls a bit in disgust at the thought of the blue boys.

"I really don't want them to remember my face and..." The boy clamps his hand over his mouth, as if trying to stuff the already released words back in.

"Don't want them to recognize you?" Cassidy trains a laserlike stare on the boy. He shifts to try hide his face a bit better in the darkness. The girl with him bites her lip a bit, worried that he had done something she wasn't aware of. We stand silently. Thunder rolls in the distance. "Are you guilty?" she asks in a flat, even tone.

"They think..."

"Are YOU?"

The boy blinks as he stares out into the streets. "No..." he says in wonderment. "But the cops catch us all some day, don't they? I mean, do they ever doubt and how can they not feel...?"

I interrupt the boy. "They can understand being 'on the run', but can they?" Silence ensues again as they ponder. Thunder cracks, yet not one of us jump.

Cassidy breaks the pause. "That was your deep thought of the day from your neighborhood musician." The two young ones softly laugh nervously.

The sky suddenly bursts open with avengence, trying to soak us with rain that had not been forecasted. Cassidy looks up to the sky as lightning strikes and starts humming "Rain Drops Keep Fallin' on My Head."

"Hey, you guys need a place to stay for the night? We have some extra floorspace in the squats. There are just some kids there, if you don't mind kids," the boy asks over the pounding rain on the pavement.

I turn my head to look at Cassidy. It's her call. She shakes some rain out of her hair and answers, "Thanks a lot, kid, but it looks like you're trying to take care of some other people. Two fugitives ain't gonna help you out much. Take this back home with you." She thrusts the bag full of our stolen goods into his hands. The boy starts to object. The wind begins to howl down the boulevards and Cassidy yells to drown it out. "If we get busted, so do you. I prefer to go down on my own ship and not take anybody else with me."

The girl, who has quietly allowed herself to be soaked as we conversed, steps in. "Thanks. The offer still stands if you ever want to take us up on it." She pauses. "You ain't too bad for hippies."

The two of us nod our heads with respect toward the young man and woman. They both flash us a small grin and then duck into an alleyway. Then the two of us are left alone.

I think about the wasted youth we had seen that night. I say in a low voice, "I can't believe the system is this f***ed up enough to make it necessary to do this." Children protecting children and playing vigilante...

"I believe it." Cassidy's throaty, well-aged voice cuts into my thoughts. "What I don't believe is that God is still putting pairs like us out here."

"You think?" I look down at her. Of she does. She reads people very well. I wrap my arm around her as the rain pours down. "Where to?"

"Subway. We'll go to the Automat or something. Besides, those vents are very warm."

"And don't we know it." Both of us start humming, and we have a medley of "Lady Madonna" and "Rain Drops Keep Fallin' on My Head" by the time we reach the station.

[zero zero nine]

OOC: Hello, everyone! I've finally been given the go ahead to play. If you need my character info, just PM Me

Special Agent Alexander Li Sera, Federal Bureau of Investigation

1:10 AM

The airport does not look like this. JFK is a lot cleaner. This? This look like Hell took a crap on the sidewalk and didn't stop growing. Yes, the whole world's gone down there. Except maybe Hawaii. I liked living there. When I was a kid, my dad used to be a sugar boss or something, pineapple king, I don't know. Then we moved to New York. And then me and my mom, we moved to DC. This world is dirty like a bad Mexican burrito. You know like how you eat a burrito? It doesn't happen real quick, but you know it's coming. The sound and the Fury. I mean, A REAL crapfest.

The assignment is capture and identify this "Photograph Killer" and his Copycat.

I take a cab, driven by a guy that looks like Osama bin-what's his name.

"Police Station. Any police station." I say. I think, but I hope not, that i'm sitting where someone puked or had sex or something about bodily fluids... yuck. At least my trenchcoat is taking the brunt of it.

"This ain't like other cities, chum." he says, turning back to me. He talks without the slightest bit of wherever the hell he comes from in his voice. In fact, it's more italian or New Yorker. This city is just f'ed like that, I guess. It's not that I'm bitter or anything. Just cynical. And it's raining.

"You pay before we go."

I pull out my glock.

"You are catching me on a bad day. I'm a federal agent, you know. FBI. You know, me just pointing this at you isn't a crime anymore. You could be some damn terrorist or something, and I could blow your brains out and drive the cab myself and no one would care."

"Okay, okay!" He puts his foot on the gas and starts speakin Arabic whatever. In a New York accent. I don't think there's anything funnier.

I can feel something soaking to my pants.

"Forget this. Get to a dry cleaners. I'm sure something is open."

"And don't worry. I'm usually a better man than that." I smile, and he still has this worried look on his face.

My cell phone rings. Dad knows I'm here. I scroll down the cell's phone book. I wonder if Sammy still lives here.

[Barb Gordon]

OOC: We need to catch up with one another. We've got some at 10ish and others at 1 am already.

IC:Sammy McKay

10:45 PM

"uhh..guysss....guys!"
Greg's, the rookie, voice comes bounding through the house. I think he most likely woke up whoever still actually lives in this hell hole. Charlie and I were actually already headed up to another floor when we heard Greg alert us. Charlie looked at me like a deer caught in the headlights. He quickly lept down the steps we'd just climbed and started racing toward where Greg had headed off.
"Greg?"
I called out after we entered the wrong doors a few times.
"Over here!"
Came the tense voice again. Just as we neared his last call he came stumbling at of the room and proceeded to lose his lunch in a corner. Charlie and I exchanged glances before slowly entering the room. And I soon had the same notion to follow Greg's recent action.
"Oh god.."
Charlie muttered, pulling out a hankerchief and covering his mouth, I did the same. The sight was horrendous and one I wont easily forget any time soon.
"Charlie, go call for backup, we'll need people here to start clearing these bodies out and check the place over for clues."
He nodded and eagerly enough left the room. Leaving me alone with the bodies. Pulling on some latex gloves I knelt down next to one. I leaned in close, the hankerchief not doing so good a job as I wanted it to.
"Geeeeezus."
I started, nearly falling over onto the bodies as my cell phone began to vibrate. What dumb f...who the heck would be calling me right now?!
"Hello?"
I asked, raising up and going over to the window.
"Samantha? Hey, it's me, Li!"
s***....

[zero zero nine]

OOC: Oh, I just edited the post with some more dramatic tension, you know, after I got the go ahead from Barb.


Agent Alex Sera

Time: dunno, you tell me.

I let my dad sufffer on call waiting.

The dry cleaners is about the only warm place I've seen here. Can't believe it.

"Yeah, you know, Alex. That Alex. Alexander Li Sera." It kinda goes silent after that. "I forgot where you worked, somewhere in Queens, right?"

"No. Look, Alex, I really don't have time for this." she says coldly.

"Oh. I see. Then let's be very professional about this."

Me and Samantha. Me and Sam liked each other. A lot. Enough to do something about it, for a while, anyway. It was right after high school, before we really cared about doing anything with our lives. I shouldn't be thinking this, but she is good. Very good. Memory burning in your brain good. Damn, I remember the first time... when we both wanted it...

"You make me so damn happy, you know that, Alex?"

"Yeah. I prefer 'f***in happy, but I guess that's okay, too." She moves closer to me, grabbing my collar.

"Save f***in happy for later... when I am f***ing happy." Samantha smiles... and later was in about thirty seconds. Damn, that was a long weekend, with more to come.


"Stop thinking about that, Alex. I KNOW you are."

"Detective Samantha McKay? This is Special Agent Alex Sera of the FBI. Looks like you got a serial on your hands."

"Two."

"Yeah. It's just f***ing New York that way." She starts breathing heavy, like she just saw something gross, something graphic. Something that I need to see.

"Where's your partner, Alex?" What partner? FBI stopped partnering people after they found out everyone was just as dumb as everyone else.

"Sorry, honey. FBI's strapped. I'm all they wanted to risk. Did you miss me?"

"Seven years is enough to forget someone, you know?"

"Yeah, but we were good. You and me."

"Professional. This is a damn crime I have to investigate! Errrr..."

"That Photograph Killer."

"Yeah, or his copycat. Both evil bastards."

"Give me the address... I might as well start working now."

F*** is my favorite word, I laugh to myself. She's thinking about it, too.

[Barb Gordon]

Samantha McKay

11:00pm

"No way."
I say icily, glancing back at the bodies with a look of distaste.
"What?"
"You heard me. This is my case, both of them. I've been working my ass off to solve it and I don't need you butting in."
"But--"
"I'm in the middle of an investigation right now Alex, call me back later, all right?"
"Samantha, I."
"I don't care Alex, I've got more important things to do right now then you being back in my life, bye."
And with that I angrily clamp my phone shut, shoving it into my coat pocket. I sigh, making my way cautiously back to the heart of scene of tragedy and carnage.
"Uh....Sam?"
Charlie pokes his head through the door, his cheeks are a bit red. I glance up,
"What now?"
I say a bit testily.
"The kid looks like he'll be okay, and the crew will be here in a bit to continue with the investigation, so we can go when they do I..."
He falls quiet.
"Nevermind."
And with that he removes his head. I stare after him in wonder, realizing that he'd obviously heard my conversation. Not sure what I should make of him hearing that, and what he'll make of it. We're close, Charlie and I, I'm not sure how close exactly, but I know he doesn't exactly know everything about Alex. God is this going to be a long night....

[Batgirl_2005]

ooc: Heh... Hi all. ^^ I disappeared due to lame circumstances, but with permission I'm back. not that it affects the story much... anyway, here's my post...

IC: 11:00 PM

When I woke up this morning around ten Alex was nowhere to be found. He had a tendency to do that. Just up and leave for a while. But normally he’d come home in an hour… tops. So I wouldn’t normally worry.

But with Ethan… The bottom line is I was worried even this morning. And I would have been perfectly ok had he come back then, he didn’t though.

Then I had turned on the TV. God… Some guy was nearly assassinated. God I hate this city. Every time you turn around something horrible is happening. Ethan agrees with… agreed with me.

God he’s gone… he’ll never…

I had gone out for a walk and gotten some mint chocolate ice cream. I came back, ate the whole container and gone to sleep. I woke up an hour or so ago and Alex still wasn’t home.

"Hi Ricky it’s Key… Is Alex there?" I ask the guy on the other end of the line. "He’s not? Do you know where he is?" He’s Alex’s cousin. They were like best friend. "He’s not here, I promise." D*mn. That’s the fourth person I’ve called. "Thanks, Rick. Bye."

I grab the phone book and look up his older brother Anthony and dial the number. "Hey Anthony… Yeah, it’s Key… No. I was hoping you’d seen him. So you don’t know where Alex is either?… No I’m fine, I’ll talk to you later. Give me a call if you see him."

I hang up and fall back on the couch, tears slipping down my cheeks. I pop my knuckles as I think about what happened or where he is. Still not knowing what to do next.

He must’ve gotten hurt and hurt bad. He could be dead. That’s the only reason he’d ever not answer his cell. I’ve called everyone, even that little tramp Alex calls a girlfriend. She had laughed and said, "I hope he, like, totally fell off the, like, world and like, died. Totally whatever." That’s a direct quote.

I turn over on my side and grab the phone, I’ll try Alex’s cell again. He’s still not answering.

His voicemail picks up, "Hey Alex, it’s me again. Look… I’m worried. Where are you? Call me. Alex I’m… I’m scared. Call me."

I turn off the phone and throw the phone across the room. I slap my palm on the side of the couch.

Ethan would know exactly where he is. Ethan would have seen me upset, walked out, gotten in his stupid truck, drove off, and five minutes later sped back dragging Alex behind him.

But he can’t, he can never come back. He’s gone… he’s gone forever. I’ll never see him again, he’ll never make fun of me when I start dancing around, he’ll never call me sexy again.

I’m crying again. I need to stop that. I do my best not to cry at anything. My brother always said it shows weakness or something like that.

Suddenly the phone rings, startling me enough that I fall off the couch. Where’d I put it? I think, standing up, wiping tears from my cheeks. I jump over the little table and grab the phone.

I press the talk button and nearly yell, "Alex?!"

"No, Key. It’s your mother."

"What the h*ll do you want?!" I groan, falling down on the ground, putting forehead in my hand.

"Don’t talk to your—"

"You’re not my mother anymore; you can’t tell me what to do."

"I taught you to—"

"To be a judgmental b*tch."

"Kayla." She says warningly like she used to when I was a kid. Then she sighs, "I called to say I heard about Ethan and I’m sorry."

"Thanks." I say quietly. Then loudly, "You’re not allowed to call. Leave me alone." With that I hung up, feeling a pang of guilt.

I try Alex again, still no answer. I leave another message then throw the phone into the wall in frustration. I stand up and walk over to curl up on the couch.

I grab the remote turn on the TV. Still the same news as before. I quickly change to Looney Tunes and pull Ethan’s blanket close. It still smells like him.

Something catches my eye and I look down at the table to see a piece of paper sticking up out of the jumble on the table. I pull it out and look it over. It’s that cop Samantha’s number.

I chew on my lower lip, wondering if I should call her. First off, it’s getting late, lmost 11:30, now. Also if she’s not already asleep she’s probably busy. I can’t exactly report Alex as a "missing person" because he hasn’t been gone 24 hours, yet. But he wouldn’t do this. He knows I’ll need him today. And Samantha said to call and…

If I’m going to do this I’d better do it now before I lose my nerve. I stand up and pick up the phone, hoping it is still working. I quickly dial her cell phone number.

"What?" Says voice filled with venom. She sounds so angry I begin to lose it again.

My voice is thick with emotion when tears are threatening to come. "Is this Sam?" I ask tentatively.

"Yes." Sam says.

"I… Ummm… Ummm… I… eh… This is Kayla. We met yesterday."

[zero zero nine]

Agent Alex Sera

11:05 PM

Dry cleaning in an hour, and it's over. I put my trenchcoat back on, and it's a start to protection from the rain. Samantha isn't happy. At least she was being nice about it. But I have a job to do, too. American public wants to nail these bastards. Come on, it's the Bureau. I'm the Bureau.

She knows I'm not lying about being an agent. I may have lied about other things, but not this. Not when I'm working.

I pull out my cell, a Nokia 9210, and dial 911.

"911 Police and Fire. Do you have an emergency?" the dispatcher asks, attempting to fake some sincerity in her concern.

"Yeah. This is FBI Special Agent Alexander Sera. Patch me through the NYPD. The one down by Times Square."

"Sir, is this a prank?"

She doesn't believe me.

"No. Alex Sera. FBI ID number 2747009, under the new rank and serial number sys--check it, if you want."

"Sir, I'm going to hang up this phone. Now do you have an emergency, or not?"

Still doesn't believe me.

"I am going to get your employee ID number, find out who you are and arrest you for obstruction of justice in a federal case."

"Sir--"

I put the phone down, pull out my gun and fire two shots in the ground, just loud enough so she can hear it.

"Ma'am, I am who I say I am. Now get me the NYPD, or get them to come down and arrest me for possession of an unregistered, illegal firearm. Whichever. I will talk to your boss about this."

She sighs and tells me to hold. B****. A gruff man with a deep voice talks to me.

"--he checks out? Damn. Okay--ahem--This is Captain Parker. Agent...?"

Finally, getting somewhere.

"Agent Alex Sera, FBI. I'm investigating the Photograph Killer and the copy cat for the U.S. government. Your cooperation would be much obliged."

"Agreed, Agent Sera. How can we be of assistance?" The rain is starting to pour harder, so I take shelter by going down into one of the subway stairways. The rain's following me down the stairs, collecting into little waterfalls.

"I'd like to start with the last known slaying. Where was it?

"The Amsterdam Houses. Amsterdam and, I think the cross street is 15th? Let me get back to you on that."

"I need it now, sir."

"Yeah, it's Fifteenth. 950 Amsterdam."

"Thank you, sir. All right."

"You want us to send a car for you?"

"No. Goodbye."

"--damn feds come down like they're God and take credit--damn it's like cheating or somethin--"

I can't wait to deal with New York cops.

[Barb Gordon]

Detective Samantha McKay

11:30PM

"Kayla? Oh I'm sorry, I thought you were someone else calling back...nevermind."
"That's okay."
Comes the quiet reply.
"Is everything okay, are you hurt, is Alex hurt?"
Right in the middle scene and I'm worried about two strangers, I must be losing my mind. She's quiet on the other end...is she crying?
"Look Kayla? Do you want to come over to my place? I'm kind of in a crime scene investigation at the moment...quite literally really. But I don't want to hang up if you're by yourself. You can head over to my apartment, just tell the lady downstairs I need you to be let into my room."
Silence. After awhile she finally agrees and I have her write down my address. Hanging up the phone I rub my eyes, how much longer could this night be? More to the point, what else can go wrong?
"Uh...Sam?"
Charlie again.
"Yes?"
"We have company."
I return with a puzzled look. I assume he means the rest of the CSI people are here so I glance out the window. I see a taxi cab leaving and some....Alex...heading towards the building.
"F***!"
"Sam?"
"Yeah yeah, I'm fine...damnit..."
I take a few long strides over to Charlie and reach into his jacket for his portable camera.
"Make as many notes and observations as you can Charlie, right now."
Without questions he pulls out his notepad and starts making notes and a few sketches. Meanwhile I start taking snapshots of everthing. The bodies from all possible angles and range, surrounding ground, the camera and tripod, window and walls, the doorway. The film runs out and Charlie tosses me another roll.
"All right, I'm done."
I say finally, finishing the second roll. Charlie nods, placing his notepad back into his jacket pocket and taking the camera and film rolls as well.
"Me too."
He replies.
"Detective Samantha?"
Comes a familiar voice calling from the ground floor. Greg pops his head in,
"Uh, Sam-"
"Yeah, I know who he is. Run down there and show him up all right? And take you time, kid."
I end, giving him a stern look. He understand the idea and heads down to Alex. Charlie has pulled on his gloves and is checking out the camera while I begin going over the bodies, checking for identification among other things. The steps of the other two echo in the hall as they make their way up the creaking steps.
"Done?"
"Yeah I'm done."
Charlie says, wiping the sweat from his forehead, he's grinning though.
"Thanks."
I pull off my gloves and shove them into my jacket pocket as Alex enters the room.
"All yours, Agent. We're through here."
I say coldly, half bowing as I follow Charlie out.
"The CSI will be here shortly, have fun."
"Sam, hey wait!"
Completely ignoring him I practically grab Greg and drag him down the stairs after Charlie. This is going to be a long night....

[zero zero nine]

Agent Alex Sera

11:30 pm

Damn, the least she could have done was share. I start to breathe through my mouth. The smell is unbearably fresh. Two girls. Made out to look like lesbi--whoa. Uncool, for want of a better word. Cut up, cut up bad. I wonder... if they were alive... looking at each other when they died... nah, they were probably looking at him. Motherf***. Damn, at least Sam could have shared. Saved me the trouble. Is it a cop/fed thing? Nah. More like a "I hate you for what you did to me type of thing..."

While I look at the crime scene, taking the notes that they took, look at all the details. The CSIs have been through this too. I'll talk to them later.

I hate my dad. Chinese mafia boss. For the first decade and a half, he was the perfect father or seemed to be. After that, he was the perfect father because he wasn't there.

He didn't really make me do what I did. But he did get me to like her so much. I made her tell me stuff about her dad, how to get into the department, its secrets, things like that. I guess, it helped me to become a better agent.

I remember that day.

He called me, gave me a hundred bucks. "Take Samantha out. Show her what a real man is for."

Restaurant, walk on the beach. We made love that day. We did.

I loved her. Really. People don't believe me when I say that. Least of all her. I lied to her. Didn't cheat on her, though. Even though I wanted to. Every man wants to. It's our nature.

Her father had found out all about my dad, and Dad wouldn't have that. Mr. McKay didn't know me, or about my "heritage," but that my parents were separated and I lived with my mom.

But I lied to her.

She asked me who I was talking to the day that her parents died.

I told her I was talking to Kerrie, just a friend from school. It was really my dad. It was the last lie I ever told her. She obviously doesn't think that it was, but it was.

My dad said, "Get her out of the car. Now. Is she out?" And I told him, yeah, she was with me.

"Good."

Then the crash. God awful. Samantha buried herself into me. I loved her.

Then she found her father's log. The one that said that the department was being targeted... the one that pinpointed my father's name. And she's never forgiven me. She pointed to his name... and asked me if was connected to him. I didn't lie. I said yes. I don't really know it was my father's fault, I didn't. What was I supposed to do?

[Batgirl_2005]

11:30

I hang up the phone and went through the mess on the table in front of me for my wallet. Finally I pull out the black faux leather wallet and opened it.

I leaf through the bills. Three fives and two tens. That should pay for a cab.

Normally I would just find Alex’s keys and bolt. But, first off he took his car. Second off I don’t have my license. Not that it would normally stop me, but I’m going to a cop’s place, probably not a good idea.

I call the cab company and soon a cab arrives outside I bolt inside and soon arrive at the address Sam gave me.

"Hi." I say quietly to the lady I met just inside. "I’m a friend of Samantha… Samantha McKay. She said that you could just let me into her apartment." I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear as the lady looks at me skeptically.

"Alright." The lady says.

She grabs a ring of keys and leads me up the stairs. She opens a door and let me inside. She gives me a glare that pretty much says don’t touch anything.

I step inside and shut the door. I walk over to the couch and sit down with my knees into my chest.

I shouldn’t be here. What if Alex calls? He could call and I won’t be there… Listen to me I sound like a desperate kid waiting for her school’s hottie to call.

I feel bad for calling Sam. I didn’t think she’s be in the middle of a crime scene. I shouldn’t have called her. Too late now. I always realize when I’m doing the wrong thing after I’ve done it.

When Sam asked if Alex was hurt I realized how scared I was of that idea. I had broken down, covered the mouth piece and just started crying. I felt bad for all of the sudden shutting up.

God if he’s hurt or worse… I’d be an orphan… what if there was an accident? I hadn’t been watching the news, he could have been in an accident and I wouldn’t even know.

No. I shouldn’t be thinking about it. He probably just had to leave for a while. Probably got tired of responsibilities.

I lay down on my back and decided to try and take a nap while I waited.

11:40

Suddenly the door opens, waking me up with a start. I fall off the couch and hit my head sharply on the ground.

"Ouch!" I exclaim, pulling myself up. Sam stands there with a couple guys behind her. I rub my head and give them a weak smile.

"You OK, Kayla?" Sam says.

"Yeah…" I mutter. "I’m sorry I bugged you during your investigation… But… I lost Alex."

[iamthedragon]

OOC: Hello, everyone! I've been given the go ahead to play. If you need my character info, just PM Me

IC Seymour McGinley:

11:05 pm

“Yeah. Okay. I will be there 5 minutes ago.” I hang up the phone. That source is such a schmuck. Calling me in the middle of the night like I have nothing better to do then work on a story. Luckily for him, I am having trouble sleeping tonight so I am actually going to act on what he told me. So another photo murder. When this is all over I’m going to quit my job and write a national bestseller about this latest madman. I can just taste the royalties.

My phone rings again. I grimace. I pick it up reluctantly. “Hello?”

“You are not going to believe this. Michael Eisner and an ABC News executive are having lunch tomorrow… and Randall wants us to ambush them!” It’s my brown-nosing new assistant, Kevin.

“Look Kevin I just found out about the latest photo murder…I don’t have time for that.”

“But we have them so bad. It’ll just be…”

“Oh yes we should go after Eisner because corporate espionage is so much sexier than rape and murder.” I think my sarcasm may singe his pride.

“Randall really wants us on this…”

“Tell Randall to go **** himself.”

“He is your boss too!”

“I play by my own rules and my sympathy for you as an up and coming journalist is wearing off…so get off the ****ing phone before I…” He hangs up. “That’s a good little newbie,” I say, the receiver still to my face. I climb out of bed and prepare to face the cops.

[zero zero nine]

Agent Alexander Sera

11:45 pm.

I'm not calling Sam again. I'm not going to call Samantha. I repeat, I'm not going to call Detective Samantha Aeryn McKay, who hates me with a vengeance and probably would be happy if I died. I wonder what she's thinking... Wow. I can't believe I remembered her middle name. What's more weird is that I still know how it's spelled.

Work sucks. But it must be done...

I'm shacked in the Heart O' the City Hotel. It's not that great. Designed for more of the 'iller' folk in town. I see a shadow moving. Rat. Nasty. I shakedown the bed covers, hoping that nothing wil fly out of them, nothing alive at least. And then... finally, I get some sleep.

12:30 am

"Wake up, Mr. Li."

"Mrmrfphmrmr--go away... I'm not done--rmrmmrmf..."

"Dao Nuo Li would like to know why you aren't returning his calls."

"Li isn't my name, not really anymore."

Instinctively, I reach for the gun under my pillow and look at my watch. 12:30.

My father's men... and my twin sister? This is just Bizarro World, now.

[speaking Chinese] "Alex, Dad's not gonna let you stay here." she says.

"Dad... isn't a factor now, Ruilong... you know that. And what exactly are you doing here?"

"Working, brother."

"Well, I'll go... I need to ask him something, anyway."

[Barb Gordon]

11:50 PM

In my rush to get away from Alex I had completely forgotten that I had told the girl to come over and stay at my place. She looked like a wreck as she picked herself up from the floor and wiped at her eyes. I blinked at her statement,
"You lost Alex, how could you lose him?"
I asked her. Charlie cleared his throat for a moment, indicating with gestures that he would take this time to drive Greg home or wherever he needed to be. The door closed quietly behind them. Tears streaked down Kayla's cheeks. Once again I'm breaking the number one rule of any officer, don't get involved. It's ended in disaster for me before. Damn you Alex, why are you here, ruining my life once again? If I could, I would find some reason to charge him and throw him in a cell, if even for an hour, it would be good. I grab some tissues from the table and hand them to Kayla.
"Come on Kayla, talk to me here."

[Batgirl_2005]

This was a bad idea. I tell myself as I looked at Sam.

I rub my eyes with my fists, much like a little kid, and take the tissues from Samantha.

"I woke up this morning and Alex wasn't home. And I guess I didn't worry a lot this morning because he'll do that sometimes. Just disappear. But he always comes back." I'm starting to cry all over again, my shoulders are shaking with sobs. "And he isn't answering his cell phone, and nobody knows where he's at..." My face is in my hands now and I'm crying hard. It's harder to recall all of this outloud than it is in your head. "And Erick broke up with me... and My mom called... and Ethan's gone... And he's never coming back...... And Alex is probably dead..."

I realize suddenly that I've become hysterical. I straighten up a bit, still crying, wipe my eyes and blow my nose loudly on the tissues.

"Sorry..." I mutter. "I shouldn't have bothered you. Do... Do you want me to leave?"

[zero zero nine]

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.

[Freza Resurrected]

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.

[zero zero nine]

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*

[The Guitar Slayer]

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.

[Mattashell]

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.

[zero zero nine]

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."

[zero zero nine]

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)

[Barb Gordon]

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

[Harvey Dent]

OOC: In the interest of hopefully moving things along (and because I haven't posted for like, two pages :o ), 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.

[The Guitar Slayer]

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 :o . 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!

[Barb Gordon]

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

[zero zero nine]

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.

[The Guitar Slayer]

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.

[zero zero nine]

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.

[Mattashell]

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.

[zero zero nine]

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!

[Barb Gordon]

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

~Barb

[The Guitar Slayer]

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!

[zero zero nine]

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:

[zero zero nine]

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."

[Batgirl_2005]

ooc: OK, I just want to apologize for being so er.... not alive. I should be able to post sometime tomorrow. If not tomorrow then definitely before Wednesday. This goes for all RPGs I'm in. I plan on having a "catch up day" tomorrow right after school. Sorry again!!
zero zero nine, do you want me to pm you a description of Key at some point?

[zero zero nine]

OOC: Batgirl: Yes, please :)

[Batgirl_2005]

ooc: Woo hoo!! I'm posting ic! Aren't you proud?

ic: 6:40 am

Sam dropped me off last night and I went in and crashed on the couch. This morning some gawd awful ringing has just now woken me up.

"Hello?" I answer groggily, searching aimlessly for a clock I can actually read so that I can figure what time it is.

"Key?" Came that voice I've needed to hear for the past day. It's a bit saticy, coming from his cell phone, and his voice is totally half gone. He's probably been driving all night.

"Where are you?!" I demand. I stand up, a bit shaky and grab the green digital clock from the top of the tv. "And why the hell are you calling me before noon?"

"On my way to Florida. And because I've been driving all night." I was right.

"Why are you going to Florida?" I ask, even though I already know the answer.

Most of Alex's family lives here but his parents live in Florida. So does Ethan's family. Whenever anything happens he always says he's hightailing it to Florida, but he never does. He loves Ethan's family, especially his little sister. She can't be older than ten, and she calls him Uncle Al.

"I thought I should go see mom and dad. And see Sarah and Rupe." Ethan's parents. "Not to mention my little princess, Kandi."

"And you couldn't have taken me along?" I ask. "Damnit Alex. I've been so worried. YOu weren't answering your cell phone... I was so scared you'd gotten hurt or..."

"I'm fine Key. I'm fine." He assures me.

There's a long silence. Finally, "When are you coming back?" I ask.

He takes another long pause. I hate it when he does that. It always makes me expect the worst.

"I don't know." He finally answers.

"Alex... You can't just LEAVE me here! A, I'm not quite sure that's legal. B, I need you."

"Key... I just can't handle being there right now... I can't handle being around you." He says. "I've gotta go. There's a cop behind me. I'll call you later."

He hangs up on me leaving me alone to cry.

I start to fall asleep, deciding that later I'll go for a walk and get some more ice cream. Maybe one of Alex's brothers will be around and I can get a ride. For now, I don't even want to think... about... anything...

[Mattashell]

MH:

I've been wondering the streets for hours, it must be nearly 9:00. I'm soaking wet now, and barely dressed. The rain is freezing cold, but it feels sooo good. Cleaning the dirt both literal and psychological as it flows off my body. I wish I had hesitated long enough to put my shoes on before I ran out. I've never been barefoot in Manhattan before, and it is just gross. I can feel the can of peppper spray is still in my jacket pocket. People look at me, they can see my legs are bare as are my feet. I can't go back. I'm not ready to face those issues. I duck into the Salvation Army store.

It's heated inside. As I walk around the tables I hide some clothes in my jacket. No one is looking. How can they say these things. Was she really with a dirtbag like Sean. This is when I realize what it was that upset me. If she's been with all those guys, like, just for fun. Maybe that was all I meant to her. Maybe she doesn't care, and if the possibility of her not caring upsets me, then that means...that I do. Well , if I do care, then I shouldn't have walked out. What those guys were saying was an insult. Not to me, to her, and I should have stood up for her. I should have defended her honer. If she's slept around before, tht's not my business, but if Sean is going to imply she's a slut, he's going to have to answer to me. I run out of the store and I can here the clerk yelling behind me, saying hi saw me hide something in my coat and he wants to take a look. I, while consealing the slacks and shoes to one side, open my jacket, revealing my body and say, "You want to see what's in my jacket, here it is." I kept running.

That probably wasn't smart, but I got some shoes and slack, which I hardly stop to put on, not caring who see's. A lady put her hands over a little girls eyes, but mostly people hardly take notice, as the sying goes, "Eh, it's New York."

Now I'm headed back. I hope Sean is there, because I want a word with him.

OOC: I am guilty as everyone, but let's try to keep the story going, m'kay. I can hardly wait to find out what happens.

[redDragon]

Note: Justice League Dude has resigned from his role as James Morgan

[zero zero nine]

OOC: I think the key here is participation. And someone named *ahem* Barb. The cops can't move forward without her :)

[The Guitar Slayer]

OOC: Bumpety bump bump

Wakey wakey. C'mon, folks. I've been out of it for over a month, and it's driving me a little batty. So here's some crummy filler. I'll get to the rest of the RPGs over the next week or so.

IC: Cassidy
7 AM, give or take a half hour or three

We strolled through the red light district at the same rate we did the Park all those days ago. Crazy, man. It's just one of those weeks...

I started smoking pretty early today. Nerve-wise, I'm worse than an expectant father. Sundance over there looks like he IS an expectant father, the way he keeps fussing over me, telling me to cut it out and keeping himself extremely close and being all protective and s***. I've decided never to have any kids, just looking at the poor critters that peer at us from under the buildings. Y'know those porches that are supposed to have those lattices around 'em to keep out racoons (where would you get a racoon in the redlight district?) and kids? They are very much absent here, so I don't wanna know what was caught under there...

I'm rambling.

The lighter hisses again and I take another drag. I see Sundance's shoulder rise up and down as he sighs again. I think I'm aging him faster than I'm aging myself with all these cigarrettes. I see him look away from. I know I pain him.

I follow his sullen gaze around the block. He's taken note of the the sluts doing their laundry and their pimps' stuff too. He notes the men making business transactions with each other. "They're all interchangable...this brunette for this blonde for this redhead, and I'll throw in my 1974 Dodge Dart Low Rider...."

He looks ahead and sees the neighborhood abortion clinic, a standard fixture, and probably well used, despite all the kinds running around. You can only have so many in a month....

A small remote-control car rams into his left ankle. He jumps, letting go of me for a moment. Sundance crouches, picks up the car, and turns it over once or twice in his hands. "Nice...I had one of these, you know." He has a goofy grin on his face now.

"You were spoiled as a kid, man."

A kid meekly approaches the two of us. He's barely half the size of Sundance, which would put the kid at about 3 feet or so. He's undergrown...

He also looks as though he could have been Sundance's son.

I look at the kid's dark hair. I shift slightly to look at the kid's eyes.

They're blue. Pure blue....

Just like that baby...

I step away instinctively and watch the scene unfold. Sundance's steel-blue grey eyes and pale face smile at the boy, who hangs back. He crouches down to the kid's height and holds out the car. "Be careful with it." The boy hesitants shyly, then grabs it with a beam on his face that only a child can master. He races away toward his mother's house.

Sundance watches the boy, head slightly tilted and a mysterious small curve of his lips appears. When was the last time we had seen something that innocent in a hellhole like this? But there is more to that look... he apparently saw the same thing I did: a boy that could have been his.

I knew better. He hadn't come up from D.C. until right before he met me...had the bus ticket to prove it...and we'd been inseparable since. And that kid had to be about 7 years, malnourished as he was. The eyes weren't even the same as Sundance's...he has a weird shade of eye color. They are grey, but with such a pure steel blue tinge to them that they are almost unnatural. Me, all I got is plain ol' brown with green flecks in them.

So what was the grin about? I wake up and see he's looking up at me with that same idiotic look on his face...

"Oh NO!" I shake my head, laughing at the notion.

"Please? I'd feed it and walk it and clean up after it...?" I try to escape, but he spins me around and wraps his arms around my waist.

"Men don't have biological clocks, so cut it out." I slap his hands away, but he continues to molest me as we exit the red light district.

Where to next? Who knows? Who cares?

[Barb Gordon]

OOC: *blinks* I live!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! *dances and falls over*

6:35am

He looks Charlie and I over,
"Show you what?"
If it weren't for Charlie putting a firm squeeze to my shoulder I probably would have jumped Alex.
"Don't play with me damnit. You're in my area, my station - so you tell me whateve it is the heck you've got or I'll find one reason or another to beat the **** out of you...okay?"
He grins.
"I love it when you talk dirty, you know that?"
Geezus...
I sneer, Charlier coughs.
"What?"
Alex and I ask at the same time. Charlie's got one of those glints in his eyes I never like.
"Look, I know you guys are just dying to get a room to yourself for unfinished..business...but let's just do our jobs and get it over with all right?"
I let out a deep breath through my nose.
"Fine."
I turn to look at Alex again, leveling a glare at him.
"So like I said. What have you got, show it to me. I just heard you on the phone with what sounds like someone over at the lab going over results. What are they?"
God I can't wait to get him out of my life again...

[Harvey Dent]

Looking through this morning's News, I read about the ongoing struggle between the City and Albany regarding more financial aid for our cash-strapped burg. Bloomberg wants a commuter tax; Albany says no. Bloomberg wants tolls on the East River crossings; Sen. Bruno likes the idea. Bruno says increase City Income Tax; Metropolitans say "Go to hell". It's times like these that make me glad I didn't enter politics. When I tell people to do something, they do it. Otherwise, they end up unemployed, dead, or both. And speaking of power...

*BZZT*

"Yes, Mr. Cortlandt?"

"Bonnie, has Mr. Douglas called today?"

"No, sir. There haven't been any calls or messages."

"Thank you, Bonnie."

Well, he did call this morning....early, this morning...and say noon. And that's...roughly five hours from now.

(sigh)

I hope he has something important, otherwise it's going to be another slow day. And I really hate slow days.

[zero zero nine]

OOC: I used to own a 1979 Dodge Dart! :p

IC:

Special Agent Alexander Sera

6:40 AM

"You would be awfully hard-pressed to do that... wouldn't you?" I say. Hey, it's the truth. Even if I couldn't, I sure bet I can run faster than her. I laugh internally.

"Anyway, we picked up some blood near there. Male, no ident."

Sam steps closer to me.

"The tape." she says firmly. "I want to see the tape."

I turn around, looking toward a back office.

"We have it set up over there."

All three of us walk briskly to the back room. The guy that's doing the video plugs in the finally AV cable.

"Jet, set, and up, up and away!" he says.

Sam, Charlie and I stare at each other blankly, then back at the guy. I'm trying not to laugh.

Charlie sits down in one of the chairs, saying, "You aren't from around here, huh?"

The man looks nervous and rolls his eyes up.

"Just play the tape."

He pushes the play button on the machine. Static at first, tracking takes care of that. Then it comes on crystal clear. The last murder, the one we just missed. Bowels, bodies cut. They screamed in terror. Then he slit their throats.

"Wait." I tell him. "There's something in the background. He's saying something. Can you clean it up, fix it or somethin'?"



It's like it stands apart from the screaming. The technician types on the keyboard. He tells us, that it sounds like it was recorded at a different time from the murder, probably after. And now we only hear the killer's voice. It's drawn out, like he's gasping for breath. As the sound plays, it becomes more rhythmic. Like war drums.

"Hhhhhiiinrichhhhhh! Hiiiinriiiiiich! Hinrich! Hinrich!" And it goes on and on...

Sam and Charlie... first they stare in shock, then both of them run out of the room, a mad look on their faces.

"Hey!" I call out after them. "What's a Hinrich? Or who--?"

[Barb Gordon]

OOC: Wow, I still do breathe...*pokes everyone else* not sure about the rest of you, eep! So Zero, how goes those character pics? hmmm? *prod/poke*

6:55am

IC: Charlie (decided to take a different view this time around)

Hinrich

No f'ing way....what would he have to do with this?

Greg Hinrich, our newest rookie...what could he POSSIBLY have to do with any of this.

I feel like my head is going to twist itself up in a knot just trying to figure out how any of this makes sense, I can tell Sam is going through the same thing as we both bolt out of the AV room. That Sera guy calls after us...what I wouldn't give to retort something back, but I'm too preoocupied now. Thinking about Sam and her past boyfriend...ick...is the last thing on my mind. Sam and I sprint through the office, other officers and detectives glancing up at us with odd looks.
"Where do you think he could be?"
I ask Sam as we jog down the stairs. She shakes her head.
"No idea Charlie, no idea at all..but we've got to find the kid, NOW."
I nod in thought. After taking a moment to breath on one of the landings I continue after Sam.
"Best thing we can do is just ask around."
She nods, glancing around at who we could ask. I grab a detective on his way upstairs.
"Seen Hinrich anywhere, Will?"
"That cop? no, I don't keep tabs on cops, especially rookies."
I sigh,
"well, if you see him, let us know, k?"
"Sure thing, Charlie."
I see Sam asking a few of the cops headed downstairs.
"We'll let you know as soon as we see him, Sam."
A group of them promise, giving smiles as they head down. Stupid horny punks I can't help thinking about my fellow men. Sera calls over the railing after us.
"You two, stay right there!"
pfft, like we were dogs. If Sam wasn't ready to leap at him, I sure as heck would be. Sam gives him a cold look as he practically falls down the stairs after us.
"What the heck....is up...with you two? Why the rush? Whose Hin--"
I grab him roughly by the arm and back him against the wall, rather enjoying it and the look on his face.
"Quiet!"
I hiss.
"Not so loud, all right? We know Hinrich...he's on the force...so keep it down until we figure out what's up....got it?"
I say icily. We stare each other down for a few moments.
"Alex please. Keep this quiet until we figure things out. We're looking for the kid now. But don't you breath a word about what's on that tape."
His gaze goes to hers for a moment before he nods and I release my hold. He brushes himself off.
"Fine. But I'm going with you"
He begins.

[zero zero nine]

OOC: GRRR... my mom... plus the fact that I'm really sick :(

IC:

Special Agent Alexander Sera

6:56 am

Oh man... I can't believe I let him do that. I tell myself it's for the sake of work. You know what those people say, work now, play later.

Could Hinrich be the guy on the tape? It could be for self-vindication. Maybe he likes to hear himself talk. Nah, can't be it.

I follow Charlie and Samantha to Charlie's car. They're whispering to each other. I can barely hear.

"...this guy ..... he thinks... " Charlie says...

"...Greg kid... off-duty... I know... just Alex."

No point in holding them up.

"So, where are we off to, Detectives?" I ask them in a plain tone.

"We heard from some guys that it's Hinrich's day off today... gonna check out his place." Samantha says.

"Good idea." I tell them. Very methodically, I pull out my gun and check the clip and the barrel.

Charlie grits his teeth. "Hey! What the hell are ya doing? He's one of our boys!"

I look at him straight in the eye. "Which means that he will have firearms in his house. Can't be too careful. You ever been shot before?"

"No, but--"

"Then don't plan to either."

Sam, always the mediator, steps in between us.

"You know you don't need that, Alex." She puts her hand on the barrel of my gun and pushes it down.

"Just being prepared." I tell her.

[The Guitar Slayer]

OOC: Oooooh look at all the new buttons...hey, zero zero nine, feel better soon [I know this is a little late but the feeling is still there].

IC: Sundance
7:05 AM

It's amazing how they survive. Despite being stunted and assuredly lost in the end, they still live as if this is a normal life. You have a thousand fathers that come and go, possibly for only one night, and yet you aren't traumatized by it.

The little guy tears off with his toy back toward his mother's place. Cassidy seemed haunted by his appearance, but she does know better. Now we're just staggering along the streets, goofing off, me leaning on her and not letting her go as she squawks at me and pulls on my clothing and grabs at whatever skin she can get. I've managed to remove the cigarette from her mouth and liberate the pack from her pocket. Ahhhhh, can't see...scarf's been pulled over the eyes...

It's true we don't have body clocks like they do; it's funny how the more rhythmic half of the race is not full of drummers. Then again, we're the ones who have the violent drives and need to beat the **** out of something lest we get arrested for doing something else to release that tension. However, I do believe where there is a time to stop. Stop living day to day. Stop tempting fate by going where angels fear to tread. I am 28, however, and she's still young. She could still live that life and I don't know how willing she'd be to give it up.

By the time I come out of my thoughts, we're near the end of the redlight district and Cassidy is humming something. I rest my face on her head as I recognize the tune. We'd snuck into the balcony one hot summer night through an open skylight. We watched as Valjean and Javert fought for their souls, Marius and Eponine fought for their loves, and Fantine fighting for Cossette's life. "I Dreamed A Dream..."

"Where to?" She looks up at the street signs, a piece of overgrown bangs falling into her eyes. She'd looked cute like that, kinda like Grace Slick, but she'd let it grow out. Now it frames her face rather than falling into it.

"I'd say head around the projects rather than through them and enter the Bazaar from there." The Bazaar was a....bizarre district. Lots of weird stuff. Persians and poetry and transvestites and incense and opium dens and some very ugly organized crime syndicates resided there. From there, we'd head Underground. The Underground is partially under New York and it reaches its arms out to touch the rivers and the bridges. Once in awhile, you see some of the Underground residents under a bridge or two when you pass over it. It's best not to approach them.

"Why do ya say it with such distaste? It's got some class..."

I roll my eyes. "You and your liking of incense and all things Far Eastern. You don't see some things."

"So sue me. I'm an optimist."

"You?"

"Watch it." She raises her hand with her index finger raised. "I've had enough of a reality check lately. The world is a cold dark place."

I can't help but sigh. She's trying to block it all out...but if she does too much of it, she'll become blind to the danger too.

She she she she she. Her name is Cassidy. Although there is only one SHE and SHE is indeed Cassidy.

"What, man?" Cassidy looks at me, waiting. I guess I must have said her name out loud. We're standing at the same street corner under the same sign, yet we're in totally different places.

I'm losing her.

"Nothing. I just had to say your name."

OOC: Yes, somebody had use the tagline sooner or late. :p

[The Guitar Slayer]

OOC:

....

Shall I pop this into cold storage and wait for all you people to jolt back to life?

[zero zero nine]

OOC: Sorry... lots of things have sidelined me (yeah, for a couple of months, I know :( ) such as looking for an apartment, sickness and school *sigh, it's not over yet* and, I don't know, lack of inspiration? Anyway, here I go diving back into it and yes... i am STILL trying to put this dang comic book together! Maybe when I graduate *sigh*

IC:

Special Agent Alexander Sera

7:05 AM

The car ride is silent. Not even the crackling of the police-band radio seems to shatter it. I notice the buildings, but I can't tell if they're getting older or newer as we pass by them. Rust and age have claimed these buildings, no matter how old they are. Correction: New York has claimed them. There are more rats than there are people, I'm told, but I think it's just the people here are...

"...rats." I let that last word slip out of my mouth.

"What?" they both say..

I pull my glasses off and clean them. "It's nothin'," I tell them. Pointing my thumb backwards off to some, mystical imaginary rat off behind us, I say, "We never had rats that big when I was a kid."

"Yeah, I guess," Charlie mutters.

About 20 minutes later, we arrive at Hinrich's apartment.

Charlie knocks on the door with the ever so demeaning, "Hey, rookie! It's us, me and Sam!" No answer.

Sam follows up in a sweet voice, "Greg? Are you there? We need to talk to you."

"Phone's busy," Charlie says, hanging up his cell phone. "I'll try again. Here, you try his cell."

He gives me the number and dial it. I wait a while. It's not even ringing. Then a woman's voice comes on. Could it be his wife or girlfriend or something?

"Please hold while the Nextel subscriber you have dialed is located..."

I'm getting impatient. "No good. Break it down," I tell them. They look at me surprised. "Do it. He could be in danger."

"And he could just be on the phone," Sam says.

A guy walks up to us and the apartment. It's a wonder he can see where he's going since he's got a huge bag of groceries in front of him. "Excuse me," and starts fumbling around with his keys.

"Greg?" Sam starts.

"Yeah--oh, hey, Sam, Charlie... and FBI guy..." He inserts the key and begins to twist the knob.

"Sera. May we come in?" I ask politely.

Greg pushes the door open.

His "Sure" is cut off by three "Oh, my God"'s.

All over the apartment, in red, are the words "DON'T TELL SECRETS, GREG".

We pull out our weapons.

[Barb Gordon]

IC: Det. Sam McKay

7:27am - 7:41am

My eyes widen, so does everyone else's, including Greg's.

"What the fu--"

He trails off, the groceries dropping from his arms in shock. He stands in the doorway, keys still hanging from the door. I move in slowly past him as Charlie puts his peice away and moves in on Greg.

"Hey, rookie. Look at me, yoo hoo!"

Charlie says, snapping his fingers in front of Greg's face. After a few moments Greg closes his mouth and swallows hard.

"Wha...what is this?!"

He manages out. Alex moves past him, gun still drawn as well.

"That's what I'd like to know."

Not before I find out though, I think to myself. But after searching through Greg's apartment, we don't come up with anything and find ourselves back at the front door.

"This isn't paint, is it?"

Charlie says slowly after finally getting Greg to sit down on the couch while the rest of us looked more closely at the walls. I let a shudder run through me,

"No, no it's not."

The blood is slowly drying on the walls, beginning to crack....damn I can still smell it though.

"Guys from the lab will be here in five."

I mention, pulling away from the wall in disgust. I glance at Alex...he must be having a field day with this. One of our cops, somehow tied in with all of this....he'll never stop bothering us now.

[Freza Resurrected]

OOC: I'm terribly sorry for how I have inconvenienced all of you during my absence. After a computer crash and an internet service provider change I simply lost interest in getting on the web for a while. I came back a few months ago and simply forgot about this excellent work we had all collaborated on. Since then I have written many short stories and created more concepts to entertain myself but today I felt uninspired and dry. So I thought and I thought and I remembered the crime noir which I had once began here at toonzone! I was so excited and now I am here and I realize that I have much to catch up on. So, please, give me a few days to re-read the entire piece before I start adding more to the plot. I'm certain during the long break we've all had that each of our writing abilities has grown. Please fell free to PM me about anything and I will be sure to reply.

[The Guitar Slayer]

OOC: Hey, man! Welcome back. Some of us were a little worried about you, but I think you're here in one piece, more or less. Nice to have you again, and I hope this can really kick the storyline into high gear.

Once again, welcome back!

[zero zero nine]

OOC: seems the evil computer bug is going around... I hope not everyone has given up hope... (i accuse myself also :sweat: )

IC: Special Agent Alexander Sera

8:00 AM, at the police station

"Look, we aren't here to get you. You're a good guy, Greg," Sam says, attempting to diffuse the rookie's obvious nervousness. The look on his face says otherwise... it says that he's going to lose. Maybe lose everything.

"A good guy. I know. Like half the cops in this city." The comment pulls me out of my blank stare into the interrogation room mirror. I can't tell if he's being truthful or sarcastic. I run my hands through my hair, while Hinrich continues. "I didn't do nothin', man. I was just at the wrong place at the wrong time. NY cops. Making things worse, damn it!" The fear is slowly turns to anger. "This place is a s***hole. Something always goes down. I swear, New Yorkers would die of boredom in any other place in this f****** world!"

Charlie looks to move against Hinrich, ready to take him down. "Calm down, man! Just calm down. We need you. This--these investigations hinge on you."

"I don't know anything! That night..."

"Go on," Sam says. "If you were there, you're just a witness, not a suspect. You can say whatever you want. It's all voluntary."

Hinrich puts his hands on the table, kneading them together as if he was trying to crush all his troubles at once. He looks at us as if we had something in common... victims of this god forsaken rock.

"My family is dead. There's nothing to say to bring them back. It was a crap family, with a bratty kid, but it made life a little bit more bearable. They were people that didn't know better. People I should have protected." Hinrich looks like he's about to break down, his eyes go cold.

"We'll let you alone for now, Hinrich. Detectives, I need to speak with you outside."

We file out, and we can still see Hinrich through the glass, now more alone than ever.

"We need to find out what he knows and fast. People like him--"

Sam interrupts me. "Don't say that about him! He isn't a killer!" I take my glasses off to clean them.

"He is becoming a calculated danger to this police force and to this investigation. Either Hinrich goes into hiding, or we find a way to use him, watch him. He has nothing to lose." I put my glasses back on, getting used to the inherent darkness of these offices. "For him, it won't be about the badge anymore."

OOC: Let the good (bad) times roll!

[Mattashell]

(My last post took place at around 9AM, which is about an hour ahead of everyone else. So I'm not going to put a time up for this one, and we can pretend these events are more in sink witht he others. Besides that my character doesn't wear a watch anyway, it's probably earlier than he thinks. :anime: )

MH:

I bust throught he door to the squat. Most of the kids are out, except for a few too deep in thier stoopers and k-holes the be mobile...and Sean.

He's standing there smiling. "I've been waiting for you to come to your senses.

WHACK!

I sucker punched him, then kicked him hard in the stomache. He goes down. His sheer size makes him overconfident, but he's no match for my skill. I'm about to get down on the ground with him, teach him about grappling, but he pleads.

"What the f- is wrong with you, crazy cracka! I just need to talk with you!"

He props himself into sitting possition. "I'm trying to help you out crazy white boy. You don't want to get mixed up with that. You want some tail? Look around, there's more than enough to go around here. That one's a minx, she's trouble, you don't want that."

"I'm listening."

"She wanted to turn you in. Hell, it was me and my boyz what talked her out of it. I don't want the cops coming down on this joint. Not only would I be shut down, but this place would be boarded up, these kids would have no place to go."

I can't beleave he wants me to think he cares about these kids, the same ones he peddles his poison to, but I barely notice. The 'turning in' comment is what pierces the armor. "I don't know what your talking about..."

"She didn't tell you, I should have known white boy, or should I say Michael Henry. That's right, everyone knows who you are, your picture was in every post office, on every television, a few months ago. And who do you think was the first to recognize you, the same one that wanted to turn you over for the reward money and get out of this life. It was Kenya! I saved your ass, you ought to be kissing my ass instead of kicking it."

My face turns white. In the passion, in the heat of the moment last night. She was calling out my name, and I never even noticed, it all was so natural...so right.

He reads my expression. "It looks like you need to have a talk wit her, doesn't it. See for yourself."

(Well it looks like I'm in the middle of some personal developments while you guys are building the main plot to its climax, but that's allright. I'll meet up with you down the line. If the mystery DOES get solved, and the killers caught, I don't think that should be the end of this. Reality has no beginnings or ends, so let the thread live on, I say.)

[The Guitar Slayer]

OC: Ok, guys. This thing has been dying a slow death ever since Freza seemingly fell off the face of the earth. Now, we have options that we have to take a look at.

One, we end it. Right here and right now. No more posting. It's dead as a doornail.

Two, we pop it into cold storage, so to speak, until everybody gets back.

Three, we go on with the show. However, we need to have a group meeting (via AIM) to figure out what we're going to do. Just because one member is out of commission doesn't mean that the RPG should die. I do believe we have something terrific here, and I'd like to see it end as a completed work.

I prefer #3, obviously. I want everyone in this RPG to sound off regarding the matter. This shall be posted on the Reality Check Thread and sent to all members.

[Mattashell]

OOC:The first thing to do is take a roll call. If you wish to drop out, I'd appreciate if you at least say so rather than just not posting. If we have five people who wish to continue, we should try to come up with some sort of pact to post at least once a week. I know that my in character RPG posts require a lot more time and work than my typical other posts here at Toon Zone. It is hard for me to find time to work on these, and often, I simply forget.

If we're going on with this, I'm in.

[Batgirl_2005]

I agree with Mattshell, if you're going to drop out say so. Don't just stop posting.(though, I'm kinda not one to talk) I was really having fun here. So if we keep going I'll stick with it..

[zero zero nine]

Yeah, I want to finish this too.

[The Guitar Slayer]

OK. We have at least 4 people. We'll be doing some work in the background here to try to get some more people to the RPG boards, as all of them are suffering.

Now, we have a question of plot, or rather, what the hell do we do next?

The summary will be up next weekend. In the meantime, I dug up some old PMs from Freza because I wanted to dig deeper with the tale. If anybody else remembers or has PMs regarding what happens next, post 'em here.

In summary, this was to be a trilogy RPG. This is the first section, which dealt with a serial killer and the horrid state of affairs in New York. The second was going to be either a corrupt cop ring going down hard or a massive gang war, with Freza and I leaning toward the second. The third one was going to tie up all the loose ends and perhaps show the downfall of Victor Douglas, our local mob boss. This was all speculation in the summer of 2002.

Barb Gordon and I meshed out a whole plotline involving Cassidy, Sundance, and Sam. Without spoiling the show, we were going to have a close encounter with the psycho and end up together in an odd situation. This would lead to the eventual reckoning of Cassidy and Sundance the following night.

However, this occurs "tonight" in RPG time, leaving 12 hours and change. We've lost a lot of people from where we first started. MH was dealing with Kenya and Co. Victor Douglas flew off to LA and then Montreal for a baseball deal or two. Batgirl2005 had something up her sleeve regarding Alex and Sam, as I recall. zero zero nine had his secret agent/past history with Sam, and also a groovy comic for us.

Now, dear RPGers, I have a few requests of you.

1) Start writing or brainstorming. My IM is there for a reason, as are others.

2) Draft people. Borg 'em, brainwash 'em, duct tape 'em to the chair, whatever.

3) Please respond to the thread and/or those PMs I keep sending.

[The Guitar Slayer]

Here we go. Read it and use it or else we lose it.

Bob Smith and Greg Hinrich work the beat at a New York precinct. The latter is a rookie cop who doesn't have very many friends but understands what has to be done in order to make the city a safer place. He's in his late twenties, 6 feet tall, 220 lbs, red hair, green eyes. He lives in a cheap apartment with his best friend Arnold. Bob might be a good cop or a bad cop, but he’s definitely a fat cop.


At the same precinct house we have Samantha “Sammy” McKay, an ace shot and one of the few female cops that have the courage to go out on the beat. She has an european background, grew up in England for about half her life (she's approx. 23 or so), then she and her family moved to America. She's an only child, and her dad was a police detective, and her mom was a champion equestrian rider. Both were killed in a car crash....let's just say it had something to do with a case her dad was working on, and he got a bit too close to solving it. She's known for having an eagle eye when it comes to shooting. She works alone, lives in a pretty nice apartment, and has a kitten. She's got a really cheerful personality, but get's really involved when it comes to her work, she's very serious about it. Her partner, Charles, can be a flirt, but he gets down to business at the drop of a hat.



The City is being terrorized by two killers. One, the Photograph Killer. Once every three weeks, he rapes and murders his victims. Sometimes, he does it in a different order. After the victim has perished, he wears a black hood, sits on the bed with her and takes a picture of him point toward the next murder site. There have been 9 victims thus far. The last photo had him pointing with two fingers, indicating two victims. Now, there is a sicker demon on the streets. This one copies the Photograph Killer right down to the Polaroid snapshot, but he has a more demented tilt. He kills his victims by gutting them and leaving them and their entrails to rot.


The city has its share of characters running about. One good soul is Michael Henry; however, the cops hunt for him. He came from a dysfunctional, suburban home, his father was an abusive drunk. He started learning karate at a young age. His sensai became a positive male role model, and father figure to him. One day he came home from school and his father was home early. His father struck his mother and she fell down a flight of stairs and died. He was so drunk he didn't even seem to care or notice what he'd done. Michael struck him in a rage, accidentally delivering a fatal blow. He ran away to the city. The police beleive he murdered both his parents and are looking for him. The rest is what I posted previosly. Now MH runs, living day to day, trying to survive and help others survive this hellhole. MH has some karate knowledge. He frequents squats around NY and doesn't rally talk to the other street kids, but when there's trouble he settles it and is known to perform random good deeds. He has a lousy temper and he doesn't put up with fooling around. Generally no one wants to bother him, and that's the way he likes it.


Kyala Maxwell - She is 17 years old. One year before she made friends with a 21 year old guy named Alexander Maxwell (Alex). Soon they began spending a lot of time together and people started rumours that they were... urk.... ~whispers~ sleeping together. None of them were true though. Key's mother didn't believe her when she said they were untrue and sent her to military school. When she came back, she was still friends w/ Alex. Her mother decided that military school hadn't "straightened her out" and actually put her up for adoption. Alex was extremely unhappy that his friend was suddenly an 'orphan' and decided to do something about it. He adopted her. Now Kyala lives with Alex and his 20 year old roommate Ethan in a trailer.


Name: Victor Douglas
Age: 55
Occupation: Leader of the New York Syndicate and President/CEO of Unitek, a provider of computer hardware/software for personal and professional use.

Background: Victor Douglas was born into a low income, single parent household in Brooklyn, NY. His mother died during childbirth, and his father worked at the Brooklyn Navy Yard. Victor would spend his free time playing stickball with the neighborhood kids in Prospect Park, and had a strong relationship with his father. One night, after his father was laid off from his job, he got drunk and was killed in a bar fight. As the old story goes, Victor fell in with a bad crowd and got involved with petty theft. But even at the age of 12, Victor had a good sense for business, and took the money he made from crime and used it to get the best education possible. He graduated from NYU with a degree in business, but it was during his college years when he came in contact with the New York Syndicate, a major crime organization dating back to the 1920s. While crime wasn't something that he loved, it seemed quite appealing, and he needed the money to start his own business. He joined the syndicate, but wasn't able to quickly reap the rewards as he was drafted into the Vietnam War. After serving his time overseas, he returned to New York and threw himself into his syndicate work, quickly making his way up the ladder to the top spot as crime boss. Using the vast resources accumulated by the syndicate, Victor formed Unitech, a small computer company that really served as a front for syndicate functions. Much to his surprise, Unitech grew into a multinational corporation which became a favorite of many businesses and world governments. Today, Unitech (now Unitek) is one of the largest providers of computer hardware and software, and the New York Syndicate is the largest criminal organization on the East Coast, controlling pretty much anything that is illegal. Not bad for a semi-poor kid from Brooklyn.


Cassidy and Sundance --- Jade Cassidy and James Sundance "Kid" (assumed stage names) are two street musicians in NYC. Cassidy, a former valedictorian, has roamed from the beaten path and followed her muse since her graduation five years ago. Cassidy is short, sleek, and one of the best pickpockets in NYC. She's why you put your wallet in your front pocket and attach it with a chain. She could be a Latina, could be Russian, could be a Greek...there's is something you can't place about her.

She teamed up with Sundance at a bus stop in Leonardo, NJ. Sundance is older than Cassidy by about 5 years. He's not one to take advantage of his partner in crime, life, and love. Sundance is not 'handsome'; he is art. Beautiful by any standards, man or woman...thus, this poor guy is constantly hit on by both sexes. He prefers Cassidy over all. The two of them are semi-homeless, sometimes sleeping on the subway, other times in motels or tenements, but never in one place for too long. They do partake in various illicit substances, but they aren't hard core addicts; they aren't into smack or crack. Because they are performers, Cassidy and Sundance take care of their appearance; they don't look homeless. However, both don't exactly have money for hair cuts, so Sundance's is down past his collar and Jade's is a signficant length.

The duo play a variety of instruments, whatever is portable. If there is a bandstand set up nearby with a piano, they'll use that until the cops come in and bust them. Even the cops are reluctant to break up the party...they do a lot of old tunes from the 1960s, peace, love, and rock.


And that's everybody. Onto the summary.....



TUESDAY

The story begins quickly as MH and his acquaintance Chris discover a body near a dumpster. Chris yaks as the very sight of it, which attracts the attention of Greg and Bob. They investigate the scene and determine this is not the Photograph Killer. Rather, it a more gruesome copy cat. They are placed in charge of this case. At the same time, Alex, Key, and Ethan go out for a jog. Like the rest of the crowd, they are attracted to the spectacle. After they have cleaned up the area, the cops head to Moe’s diner.

Sam is made supervisor over this case as well as the Photograph Killer’s case. She and Charles head out to the diner. There, we learn that one of the killers washes the dishes at this diner.

MH, in the mean time, has stopped a mugger from robbing an old woman. When he attempts to pawn the gun for some cash, the pawnshop owner turns on him. MH escapes, but the owner calls the cops on him anyway. James Morgan checks out the situation and ends up arresting the owner when he threatens him.

The ride back to the station is silent. There is some sort of tension between Bob and Samantha…Greg wonders if his partner is a bad cop.

Victor Douglas becomes disgusted with the case as it stands. He gives his second in command Michael three days to get both of the killers out of his way. Something big will be going down soon.

Greg meets up with a fellow cop at the coffee machine. Kevin has a ‘stack-o-porn’ two feet high in his desk. Bob interrupts the uncomfortable conversation with the news that the Copy Cat has struck again. This time, he killed a twenty-year-old man in public. Nobody cared enough to stop him and call the police until it was over. Meanwhile, Alex and Key wait anxiously at their home. Was it Ethan?

Bob informs Greg that they might have figured out who one of the killers was. At 3 PM at a pawnshop, a criminal smashed several appliances and stole a camera. He had been committed because he would dig up bodies and put them up around the house. He had escaped from the asylum 12 years ago. His name is Melvin Walton. They reach the scene, as do Key, Alex, Sam, and Charles.

MH realizes that he is fighting a losing battle. He cannot protect all of the street kids without some help. He reluctantly approaches LaSean, a dealer, who accepts the terms of the agreement. This also brings in part of LaSean’s gang.

Once it is confirmed that Ethan was the man killed, Alex and Key breakdown. Sam, feeling sympathy for them (and something else for Alex), drives the two of them home. She leaves her number with them if they need her. Sam lets her defense down and stays and talks with Key and Alex. She learns that Alex is very wary of cops from past experience.

We learn the master scheme of Victor Douglas: He wants to bring the Dodgers back to Brooklyn. He had so many happy memories of them…and now he has the money and power to do it.

In the middle of a certain park somewhere, Jade Cassidy and James Sundance “Kid” finish off their performance for the night. They high tail it back to the horse stables where they spend the night.

After Sam returns to Charles after making sure Key and Alex would be okay, he asks her to stop thinking about them unless it relates to the case. He shows his jealousy concerning Alex very clearly.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
At some point during the night and early morning hours, Bob stops the mugging of an elderly woman. He is shot, but MH and his buddy Chris find him again. MH gets the police’s attention and then bolts.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

WEDNESDAY

The next morning, Sam wakes up and feels bored by the lack of work. She decides to take a jog through Central Park past the horse stables. Sundance bolts awake and listens as her footfalls pass. He and Cassidy get ready to face the day. As they talk and walk, they see a jogger being assaulted. They run to help, but she takes care of herself. She reveals herself to be Sam the cop. Cassidy, who has a phobia about cops, tries to bolt, but Sundance manages to get past the cop and act normal. Sam contemplates using herself as bait to get at least one of the killers. Sundance and Cassidy head toward the nearest train station and hop on a train toward the District.

Greg wakes up at about the same time as the others (5 AM) and receives the phone call concerning Bob. Before work, he visits his partner in the hospital. Greg tells Bob that he is being paired with Mr. Stack-O-Porn, Kevin. Bob warns him not to do anything he doesn’t think is right.

Cassidy and Sundance slip onto the train. They encounter stares from a woman and proceed to put on a show to satisfy her horrified expectations. They then calmly sit and ride the train up to the district.

Victor Douglas meets with the mayor concerning the Dodgers. Bloomberg had said he would be relocating some funds for a special deal…and it might be for the Dodgers. The money would have to come from the police salaries. This would incur a strike….letting the vagrants and the murders and the dealers run free.

Greg sees the morning paper. He notes the Dodgers story, but pays special attention the killers’ story. They mention his name, which puts his friend in danger. He runs home to make sure he’s all right.

Sundance and Cassidy (while on a quest for a crossword puzzle) see the stories as well. Cassidy is worried, but Sundance reminds her of the good business. They set up shop on a street corner in sight of city hall.

Around noon, MH sees a man on the roof with a rifle. The man shoots down at the departing Victor Douglas, but does not hit him. Both Cassidy and MH see the shooter. MH faints from the shock, while Sundance takes Cassidy away from the area. He vows to keep her safe. The police now can question MH as a witness. They will need to find Cassidy, the only other witness.



Victor Douglas is understandably PO’ed and orders for the assassin’s head on a platter. He then goes to the police station to be questioned. MH has woken up and is being questioned by cops at 1 PM. Meanwhile, as Cassidy begins to fall down a slope of eventual addiction, Sundance realizes that the cop they saved that morning will likely be the one hunting them down.



Key and Alex see the assassination attempt on TV as Alex readies to leave for some unknown destination. The Killer contemplates tonight’s activities: a double murder/rape. Greg falls ill and takes a swig of some green fluid in the medicine cabinet, assuming it to be medication...to say the least, he’s wrong. Victor Douglas makes one last phone call before flying out to LA to return his father’s favorite team to their rightful home and past glory, leaving his #2 Michael Cordtlandt in charge.



After three hours of questioning, MH weasels his way out and goes on the run. The Killer leaves work at 4:55 and heads home to prepare. His current name is revealed as Doug. His grooming includes removing every hair from his body, a bloody affair in a cramped bathroom. Greg reawakens and finds he has gotten a lot worse before he passes out again.



Sam and Charlie review the videotape from the crime scene. Cassidy catches Sam’s eye as a familiar face. What Sundance feared is now happening: there is a manhunt for two vagrants; they need Cassidy as a witness. Meanwhile, Michael Cordtlandt has received news of his boss’s getaway to LA and isn’t pleased. After dinner and a proposal by Sundance, he and Cassidy spend the night in an abandoned building. As a break from reality, Charlie and Sam have a Hagen Daas night and fill up her freezer with the stuff.



MH meets up again with his posse and goes out patrol with Kenya. As the night grows colder and the streets scarier, the two march on. Greg finally wakes up from his stupor, but his senses are definitely altered. Arnie apologizes, but leaves him to get himself to the police station for his 8:00 pm shift. Walken, Mr. Stack-O-Porn, comes up to the car, Greg blacks out, and when he comes to, Walken is driving and making dirty jokes.



The Photo Killer carries out his deed on two women living across from him at 8:22 PM.



8 pm to 10 pm After having a mini-freak, Greg discovers from Walken that he likely ingested some sort of hallucinogen that Arnie had kept in a medicine bottle. While Walken goes off to take care of business with a local hooker, a call from the Amsterdam House comes in: two sets of screams from an apartment. He interrupts his “partner” and his cohort and is knocked out for his efforts. When he wakes up, he desperately tries to find the Amsterdam Houses. What he finds is a Freddy Krueger look alike. Sam and Charlie beat him and Walken to the scene of the crime, fortunately. After searching three floors, the cops find the ugly scene, camera tripod and all. In the middle of the search, Sam receives phone calls from Alex Li Sera, an old flame, and a distressed Key. Secret Agent Alex Sera arrives at JFK on the redeye flight. One of the Photograph Killer’s victims was an undercover agent, so this now falls in federal jurisdiction.



1 AM to 2:30 AM Douglas calls Cortlandt at an ungodly hour to tell him that the Dodger deal didn’t go through; he’s after the Expos now. MH and Kenya begin to bond over a screaming pimp and his confused hookers. Somewhere out in the city, Jade Cassidy has a nightmare, which includes her past, her dreamy perfect life, her current hell, an unwanted(?) fate, and a dangerous foreboding. She bolts awake but is comforted by the serene sight of Sundance, out cold on the makeshift bed. He wakes up not long after and gathers information for a safe haven. They start moving down the 15 city blocks. They reach their destination, but don’t stay long; they get their food, but the stench of rotting flesh and a rattling door sends them fleeing. They meet up with Kenya and MH, and despite some rough introductions, they depart on amiable terms. Cassidy and Sundance escape the rain in the subway and dry off after the thunderstorm. They then ride the tourist train all night as they slumber.



Key goes to Sam’s apartment and the latter consoles the young lady. Agent Sera deals with his family, whose power in the crime world is significant. Greg finally goes home, still freaking on acid. MH and Kenya find comfort in each other after a scary night and a rainstorm.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~THURSDAY 6 AM~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



Sam is bounced out of bed by a chipper Charlie while Sera deals with a rude little field director and still mentally fights with his family.



Cassidy and Sundance are ousted by the polite train conductor and start walking through the Redlight District toward the Underground. Both reflect on children and what they entail. Cassidy insists upon passing through the Bizarre Bazaar while Sundance has a feeling he might lose her in the end regardless of what he does.



MH also receives a rude awakening from Sean and his cronies. He learns that he isn’t exactly Kayla first relationship nor will he be the last. He goes out to air his head and scrubs himself off. He steals some clothes as he ponders his situation with Sean and Kayla and finally decides to stand up for her.



After Sera has his boys analyze the blood and vomit found at the crime scene, it comes back negative for registered sex offenders. An interesting substance found within the samples is LSD. Sera shares this information with Sam and Charlie. The tape from the crime scene reveals the killer screaming over and over again, “Hinrich, Hinrich.” Charlie and Sam leave Sera temporarily in the dust as they make book toward Greg Hinrich’s apartment. They meet Greg at the door with his arms full of groceries. Upon opening the door, they are confronted with a gruesome scene: written in blood are the words “Don’t tell secrets, Greg.”



Greg is immediately taken in for interrogation. Sera grows more and more frustrated with the situation while Sam and Charlie are stuck in the middle.

[The Guitar Slayer]

OOC: Judging from your lack of responses, I think the questions have been answered.

Speak now or forever hold your peace.

[Mattashell]

Can this really be the end?

[Harvey Dent]

First, I'm sorry for not responding sooner. My lousy computer has been giving me problems for weeks, and with all the installing and rebooting, I've totally forgotten about this stuff.

Second, I am still interested in doing this. I have a little story in my mind regarding Victor and his would-be assassin, and I'd like to see it come to pass. So, I'm voting to keep this thing going.

[The Guitar Slayer]

We've voted on this before...and NOTHING happened other than me posting an update to the summary.

Words and promises are nice and all, folks....but no action = dead RPG = closed RPG. We have to get to posting or else [mimes beheading RPG]