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Welcome to Year Eight

"Love keeps her in the air when she oughta fall down, tells you she's hurtin' fore she keens. Makes her a home."

Year Eight and Still Flyin'! Thank You, Everyone!


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 The Docks: "What is it Good For?", Episode 2
Route 66
Posted: Sep 22 2010, 10:03 PM


That's no moon...


Group: NPC
Posts: 55
Member No.: 756
Joined: 19-September 08



One Week Later

After the murder of Poe, the Docks' security heightened drastically. Karla Tureaud put a man at each entry point into the station's underworld, a feat that may have been considered a small victory in her struggle for control against Doc, if not for the fact that he disappeared the same day Poe's body was found and hadn't been seen since.

Despite his absence, his underlings knew to set up their own checkpoints at the borders, near but separate from Karla's, as well as several locations within the slumdragon itself. For a while, getting from Route 66 into the slums of the Docks was nigh impossible.

Seven days later, with the lack of a leader figure and general complaints from the public about abusive treatment at checkpoints wearing them down, security has slackened. Shi Ai and Skunk, being the only Alliance presence on the station, have been carrying out an investigation, but only recently have they found themselves able to make any progress in the case as people's loyalties to Doc begin to waver.

Miss Fit's

In the eclectic little pawn shop owned by Melantha, Sera finds herself overseeing things, which was not a strange event in and of itself, but it was something that occurred more and more frequently over the past week, particularly because of the various people looking for Doc. Melantha had the foresight to make herself scarce before such encounters could take place.

Draven Raedwolf, a known member of Doc's payroll, was not so lucky, and it is him who currently finds himself cornered by the Alliance as the latest witness to be questioned in a long and tiring investigation.



<< Miss Fit's is open for play. Draven is being questioned by Shi and/or Skunk (Ertia, since Skunk is your NPC you can include or exclude him at your own discretion). I will be sending PMs ASAP to give more info to all those involved, as well as a couple of other players who can potentially join in. >>
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Sal McKenna
Posted: Sep 24 2010, 04:04 PM


The Blue Dragon


Group: Members
Posts: 79
Member No.: 859
Joined: 27-November 08



If Tureaud thought her security checkpoints would keep determined visitors from entering the slumdragon, she was sorely mistaken. The merely curious, the tourists and the upstanding citizen, perhaps, but not someone like Sal McKenna. To the former tong member, pit fighter and special ops sergeant, getting into the heart of the Docks was a challenge that was not as impossible a task to overcome as the various security forces would like to believe.

“He'll be back. Poe was his only friend, so give the man time to grieve, why don't you?”

Six nights she had spent merging with the shadows of the Docks, listening, watching, feeling the pulse of the slumdragon rise and fall in a rhythm that had nothing to do with what passed for day and night in the place. The life and breath of the place was erratic, uncontrolled. Pressure was building up, ready to explode into chaos.

“Bad enough we have Tureaud's thugs playing at being prison guards, now the gorram feds are snooping around.”

During the days, Sal was in the gyms, putting in the time Jimmie required of her, behaving as if she still cared about the tournament, showing up bright and early for a morning spent in the company of treadmills, punching bags and jump ropes, then again in the afternoon for sparring sessions with other fighters. But her heart was no longer in it.

“Anyone seen Windle lately?”

Waiting, Sal began to visit the more public areas of the Docks. Moon's, the food district and the noodle stand where she'd met him the first and only time. She hadn't been to Miss Fit's yet, although she thought it might be the one place to get answers. First, she wanted to just watch and listen. Doing that, you often learned much more than asking questions.

“Haven't seen her since Poe was killed. Heard she's gone underground 'till all this blows over.”

A few hours of sleep on the seventh day and she woke in the dark, the ghosts having visited in the night again; David, Greenwood, all the other dead asking her why. She got up, dressed without turning on the lights, ran fingers through hair that was back to its natural dark blonde shade. A few moments later, she picked up her duffel and left, the voices of the dead following her as she headed for the gym.

“When ya can't crawl no more...”

Despite Jimmie's objections, she'd worked the speed ball without gloves or bandages and her knuckles were raw when she left the gym that afternoon, skipping out on the planned sparring session. She showered, changed into a pair of old and worn stonewashed jeans, a charcoal grey long-sleeved t-shirt with a black print t-shirt over-top. Her old worn and scuffed combat boots hid a switch-blade, otherwise her only weapons were her hands.

“Find someone t' carry ya...”

The tattoos were covered, but the dead were still there, carried in her heart, having re-surfaced a week ago when everything changed. When she had seen David's doppelgänger at Miss Fit's, then Greenwood in the shadows near Moon's. Since then, she had seen others, in the shadows, in her dreams, but she wasn't sure yet whether she welcomed them or hated them returning to her life.

“...'ya want mustard wi' that?'”

It was time for answers. Unlike the other nights she had spent in the slumdragon, she had a clear goal this afternoon. The women at Miss Fit's would know something. Sal was sure of that. A week of listening and watching hadn't produced any useful results, nothing to go on, no clues as to where he had disappeared to.

“And what chains this free woman to our humble adobe?”

“You do,” she whispered to herself as she slipped by Tureaud's security, then the slumdragon's guards and followed the shadows to find her answers.



<< OOC: Last italicized comment courtesy of Doc in the last episode >>
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Skunk
Posted: Oct 4 2010, 09:55 PM


Your New Best Friend


Group: NPC
Posts: 25
Member No.: 331
Joined: 21-May 07



Skunk, his usually sloppy uniform replaced with simple street clothes- black trousers and a heavy grey sweater that easily covered and hid the bullet-proof vest he was wearing, led the way to Miss Fits. More than just convenient, the outfit toned down his Alliance presence, allowed him to blend a little more in the growing unrest that was the Route 66 docks. As he walked, eyes firing around them for trouble, he filled Ai in on his plan. "I'm gonna take the lead in the talkin' this time. My style tends to lean towards, well, the legal sorts call it 'antagonistic', but they aren't the ones dealin' with rutt-scum all day, are they?"

"Anyway, I get jammed up, you can pull the cute and helpless routine, maybe try the 'help me impress my boss' kinda game. 'Till then, you just hang back, listen to what he ain't sayin'."
He sighed as he pushed open the door and ducked his bulk under dangling merchandise. With a sidelong glance at the brisk young officer, Skunk lowered his booming voice to a distant rumble, "I'm sick of bein' behind these rutters. I dunno what kind of war's brewin' down here, but we gotta get behind it before it burns us all down."

Spying their target, Skunk squared his massive shoulders and charged through the eclectic junk-piles of merchandise towards Draeven, "Scuz' me, sir, but I gotta few questions for you, if you don't mind? Or even if you do mind a bit, when it comes down to it."

The cop's smile was toothy and white in the faded light of Miss Fit's, and he tilted his head, bull-like, to study his prey.
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Mira
Posted: Oct 5 2010, 12:01 AM


Beauty & Brains


Group: OC
Posts: 61
Member No.: 415
Joined: 17-August 07



After the night out with Matilda where a dead body decided to drop in on Moon’s, Charise had opted away from the club scene if it could be called that. Matilda had introduced her to a quaint little pawn shop Miss Fit’s and to its proprietor Melantha as well as her assistant Sera. It wasn’t overly big but she liked how small it was and despite her preference towards the cortex she had found several books worth parting with her hardly earned credits for. Scientific ones on brain study, two on amnesia and a romance novel which caught her eye despite her general unexplained repugnance towards the subject of romance. She liked one night stands, not only because she could avoid going into detail about herself which she really couldn’t if she wanted to. But also it kept things exciting and fresh. She wasn’t shy to admit she got bored easily and most men were to be brutally honest, one trick pony’s and seldom did they display something new that they hadn’t on their first attempt.

The romance novel was more to break up the dull drawl of the talking heads she was studying to find out more about her ‘illness’ as they called it. The screaming frustration she woke up to everyday made her bitter and well, bitchy. Like a word on the tip of her tongue her memory seemed like it was at the cusp of being there yet very much like a gaping black hole in her head. Most of the information was dated in these books, some even quoted ETW doctors but they also were giving ways of boosting brain power and different methods on how to work out the brain which might eventually help jump start her memory back up.

It wasn’t however a full out sprint to find out who she was. From what she had been told the manner in which she attained the damage was none too kind and it irked her to think that maybe once she did find out who she was before she might not want to know. She was content with her situation even if she couldn’t explain the why’s and what for’s of her personality, likes and dislikes, mannerisms which had ingrained themselves in her fabric and muscle memory. Ignorance might be bliss but her mind holding a secret from her was hell.

She sat quietly at the table in Miss Fit’s where she came to avoid being spotted, at least here she wasn’t known as Sugarplum nor did any of the clientele of Miss Fit’s frequent her place of work. A musty, dusty book rested in front of her as well as a data-pad full of notes she’d accumulated was slightly to the right. A wireless plug linked her ear buds to the music client on the pad and she tapped her fingers from her left hand to the beat while she typed on the data-pad with her right.

”…I’m not like them… hmmm hmmm hmmm. Pretend… The sun hmm hmm…” She half-sung, half-hummed as her eyes skimmed the book, taking brief notes from each page as she intermittently flipped through. Those same brown eyes were suddenly drawn to the door as a woman and a man walked in.

"I'm sick of bein' behind these rutters. I dunno what kind of war's brewin' down here, but we gotta get behind it before it burns us all down… There he is, darlin. Go get 'im."

She cocked an eyebrow as they immediately set their sights on Draven, while Charise set hers on the large hulk of a man in uniform. He seemed a little rough around the edges but the edge was where Charise found the most fun was to be had. It was strange in all her time on the station that this was the first time she’d seen him. She allowed herself a minute to fantasize about him in her own romance novel before slowly forcing her eyes back to the book. Although she promised to oblige in occasional glances up so long as he was there.
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Draven Raedwolf
Posted: Dec 21 2010, 04:27 PM


'Versal


Group: Members
Posts: 13
Member No.: 1,027
Joined: 7-November 09



The death of Poe was a hard hit for many who knew him. To have seen his body fall to the ground at Moon’s had been nothing less than shocking for Draven. It was a foreboding sign of the chaos that would surly ensue… and ensue it did. Doc disappeared completely, without a word to anyone. Doc was the one who kept everything going smoothly; he was the leader, the boss, and the ever-steady structure to the Docks. He knew what needed to happen and how. His disappearance created hoards of worried followers; some of the type who could hardly function without direction, while others were able to keep a steady head and continue on as if nothing was amiss. Draven was more of the later type. Security had risen on both sides for the docks. Many grumbled and complained about the interferences, but Draven continued about his daily tasks; at least those that were out of the sight of security. Some had already been planned beforehand by Doc and himself, like overseeing Miss Fit’s hidden agenda; and others were parts of his own routine, such as working out. He had to keep his figure, after all.

As it was, a week after Poe’s death and Doc’s disappearance, Draven found himself in Miss Fit’s to overlook details of the next shipment with Sera. Shortly after gaining this particular position, Draven created a new system of keeping track of what they had and where it was to go. It was a mildly simple system of inventory invoices and the like, but one that hinted at no foul play. It used no words, but numbers instead. Each customer and every type of merchandise was given a number that would be memorized by those running the operations. In this way, all one would see if they happened to catch a glance was rows of practically meaningless numbers.

“"Scuz' me, sir, but I gotta few questions for you, if you don't mind? Or even if you do mind a bit, when it comes down to it."

Draven had just finished the first stretch of his work and had given the information, with the necessary corrections, back to Sera when he heard the voice from behind him. He turned to face the rough looking owner with a friendly smile. “Not at all. I’m always happy to answer any questions someone might have. Do you want to ask them here, or somewhere else? I believe there is a table just around those shelves there.” he indicated a spot towards the left side of the shop. He wasn’t entirely sure what the man wanted, but he had a good guess that it had something to do with Poe’s death, or Doc’s disappearance. Most likely it was both as on the surface, they looked to be connected. He had seen many others questioned about both subjects, and knew it was only a matter of time before the questioning came to him. It didn’t matter much, he knew what he needed to say, and knew what he didn’t need to say. Anything else, was just a playground.
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Skunk
Posted: Jan 15 2011, 07:37 PM


Your New Best Friend


Group: NPC
Posts: 25
Member No.: 331
Joined: 21-May 07



“Not at all. I’m always happy to answer any questions someone might have. Do you want to ask them here, or somewhere else? I believe there is a table just around those shelves there.”

Sweet trick, turnin the tables like that and trying to shift somewhere comfortable for the wit. It was a good trick, but it was one he knew already. The friendly half-smile slipped from his face, and his brows drew down in a thick glower, "Right here 'll do just fine."

"And here's how it's gonna work. I'm gonna ask. An' you're gonna say. Every time I think you're tellin' me the truth, I'm gonna mark it on this list. And every time I think yer givin' me a line of gose, I'm gonna write down another charge on this form," Skunk did his best not to smile, "And in the end, whichever side is longer is gonna decide whether you stay on the 66 or find yourself a one-way to the Rim."

"So, first question. You see anything in Moon's the day Poe took his header?" Skunk shrugged his shoulders, corpad balanced on one meaty palm, the other resting near his hip, "Second question's kinda a gimme- You have anything to do with that? Maybe you're wantin' in on Doc's biz, thinkin' with Poe dead and gone you got an open door..."
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Sal McKenna
Posted: Jan 20 2011, 06:19 PM


The Blue Dragon


Group: Members
Posts: 79
Member No.: 859
Joined: 27-November 08



"...get jammed up, you can pull the cute and helpless routine, maybe try the 'help me impress my boss' kinda game. 'Till then, you just hang back, listen to what he ain't sayin'."

The familiar voice brought Sal to a halt just before she turned the corner to the front of Miss Fit's, a surge of anger making her hands clench into fists, the dragon inside roaring to be let loose. Clamping down on the fighter's instinct, she drew a deep slow breath, shifting further back into the shadows, waiting there with her back against the wall, listening for voices that were too low to make out properly, although she did catch the gist of it by the cop's tone. He wasn't happy and there was a clear note of disgust in his voice. Hearing the door open and close, she shifted closer to the corner, both cursing and blessing her luck. At least she hadn't been inside the pawn shop when Skunk arrived, but with the cop snooping around, her own questions were much less likely to be answered.

Standing with her back against the wall in the alley, she listened carefully for anyone hanging about outside, but hearing nothing to indicate that Skunk had left anyone outside as a guard or lookout, she took the chance and had a quick look around the corner. No one. At least not anyone she recognised as being a cop. The little square outside Miss Fit's was relatively quiet, not as many people occupying the place as Sal would have liked, giving her only little opportunity to mix with the crowd to watch the store without being spotted in return. But Sal McKenna had never been known for tossing the towel in the ring at the slightest sign of trouble. Half tempted to head inside Miss Fit's, instead she walked slowly across the square to a vendor selling a wide collection of scrap metals and plastics.

Moving around the stall, Sal picked up a piece of metal that looked like it might have once been a frying pan, but which had been pounded into a flat roundish shape and punched through with holes. What the purpose of it was, she could only guess, but for a few moments it gave her the opportunity to conceal herself behind and watch Miss Fit's through one of the two inch holes. She gave a glance to the vendor when the old woman asked if she was interested in making a purchase and gave a shrug of her shoulders. "Firs', I'd hafta figger out wha' this is fer?" she said and put the holed former frying pan down again and picked up a sheet of plastic grating instead as she continued watching the pawn shop, where Skunk was already conversing with one of the customers who Sal thought looked familiar. She studied his face until it clicked into place. He'd been at Moon's the night she'd been arrested. The night Poe had dropped dead from the ceiling. That, coupled with the fact that he was here at Miss Fit's and Skunk showing an interest, put the bloke high on Sal's list of people to talk to.
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Mira
Posted: Jan 24 2011, 05:08 PM


Beauty & Brains


Group: OC
Posts: 61
Member No.: 415
Joined: 17-August 07



While she didn't exactly care too much what happened to Draven having no more than a drink last night in common with him. Not that his was alcoholic. She felt compelled to keep him from getting blamed for something he to her knowledge had nothing to do with. Standing up, she slipped lithely around and approached the two. Placing her hand softly on the large cops shoulder she gave him a half smile and a wink to Draven.

"Shug, I'm sure you will get to the bottom of all this but yer barkin' up the wrong tree. Mr. Draven here was accompanying me at Moon's last night. We were sharin' a nice drink when that man decided ta drop in." She played off an innocent tone, her eyes however were far from innocent. Taking a more aggressive posture towards skunk she ran his finger along his broad chest.

"If you were him an' you had the attentions of a young woman eager for yours. Would you be off offin' some guy or busy tryin' t'get busy? Maybe at say… eight? nine?" She didn't exactly ask him out but if the man could take a hint maybe they could get past the current unpleasantness of the nature of his visit and get to relevant matters, such as satisfying primal needs.
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Draven Raedwolf
Posted: Jan 24 2011, 07:51 PM


'Versal


Group: Members
Posts: 13
Member No.: 1,027
Joined: 7-November 09



"Right here 'll do just fine."

Draven maintained his friendly smile towards the officer as the other’s dissipated. His head bobbed just slightly to show his acquiescence to the officer’s choice. The actual choice in place for questions mattered very little to Draven. The questions would be the same whether they were asked here, or away from people’s view.

As he listened to the explanation of how this particular interview was to go, Draven’s smile began to slip until it disappeared to be replaced by a serious look. The way he figured it, this was one of those types of officers who thought they could get what they wanted out of people with intimidation. Intimidation was not something Draven cared for. It wasn’t always the best way to get information from people and only showed how much a brut you could be. Draven preferred a more… civilized way of doing things.

"So, first question. You see anything in Moon's the day Poe took his header?" "Second question's kinda a gimme- You have anything to do with that? Maybe you're wantin' in on Doc's biz, thinkin' with Poe dead and gone you got an open door..."

He was right about one thing; the second question was a ‘gimme’ type of question. The obvious answer was that he had nothing to do with Poe’s death. He was already working for Doc and it suited him well. He wasn’t the kind of guy to shoot for the top just because it paid better. It was the first question that would be trickier to answer. Again, there was an obvious answer that consisted of, ‘Didn’t see a thing’. However, that simple answer could hold many implications. That simple, ‘I saw nothing’ could mean anything from just as it says, the person really saw nothing of any importance, such as something out of place; to meaning, ‘I saw something, and I know something, but I’m not going to say’ and anything in between.

“I can’t say for sure I saw anything; at least nothing out of the ordinary for Moon’s. Then, Poe’s… body… fell to the floor and it was a room full of chaos.”

Draven stopped talking to mulled over the events of that most devastating of nights, recalling the scene to his mind to the best of his abilities. He replayed in his head over and over, starting from moments before Poe’s body fell and ended a few minutes afterwards. Nothing had seemed out of place. He was enjoying a conversation with the two women, buying them each drinks. Then there came the screams and the chaos as people panicked at the sight of a dead body. He had forced his eyes from the mangled body lying on the floor to search the origins of where it fell. Everything up there was shrouded in shadows. But it didn’t seem as though anything was amiss. He was about to shift his gaze away when something had caught his attention. But what was it?

"Shug, I'm sure you will get to the bottom of all this but yer barkin' up the wrong tree. Mr. Draven here was accompanying me at Moon's last night. We were sharin' a nice drink when that man decided ta drop in."

His thoughts were ripped away as a familiar voice spoke up. He smiled to see Charise standing there, attention on the officer. He had noted much earlier that she occupied the store, but had preferred not to disturb her as she had seemed to be engrossed in a few books she had on the table in front of her. Now, here she was, defending him in an alibi. It probably looked bad the way she came to his defense before he had answered the question, but that was no matter. There was nothing tying him to the murder in the first place and too many witnesses to confirm what she had said. Besides, he was about to mention it anyway.

His blue eyes shimmered with amusement as he watched her figure trail the officer’s chest, giving him all the clues of a girl interested in what the man’s got to offer. The one thing that perplexed Draven the most, though he hid it well, was how interested the girl seemed to be. He didn’t quite remember getting the same attention, though she had great lines to give. Maybe she just liked them big and imposing.

"If you were him an' you had the attentions of a young woman eager for yours. Would you be off offin' some guy or busy tryin' t'get busy? Maybe at sayin’ eight? nine?"

“As this dear woman has said, we were sharing a drink when it all happened. I didn’t know Poe very well, but I thought of him as a friend. I would have never wished harm come to him.

The nagging thought that he was missing something hit him again, but what? He was sure that he hadn’t seen anything and no matter what he tried to dismiss the troubling thought, it wouldn’t go away.
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Skunk
Posted: Jan 25 2011, 07:50 PM


Your New Best Friend


Group: NPC
Posts: 25
Member No.: 331
Joined: 21-May 07



That was the problem with the docks, Skunk grumbled inwardly as Mz Eager-Beaver strolled up and started makin' with the distractin'. Everyone was always in someone's pocket. And this one seemed to be pushing to get into his. And rutt him if she wasn't good at it, too, but runnin' with Womack had put Skunk in the way of enough such distraction to be wary of it.

"If you were him an' you had the attentions of a young woman eager for yours. Would you be off offin' some guy or busy tryin' t'get busy? Maybe at sayin’ eight? nine?"

"Good 'nough, Peaches. Anytime you wanna play, my office door's open." He told Charise, closing one thick hand over the delicate fingers that she trailed up his chest and firmly, but not ungently, pulling them away, "But right now I'm workin', and that means I'm gonna be needing your name and residence number."

He gave the woman a wink, resisting anything more lascivious.

“As this dear woman has said, we were sharing a drink when it all happened. I didn’t know Poe very well, but I thought of him as a friend. I would have never wished harm come to him."

Skunk studied the other man for a long moment, eyes narrowed thickly, giving no hint to the long thoughts that occupied him.

"Gorram it." He finally gave a disappointed utterance, "I do believe you're tellin' the truth. You're as mudder-brained about this mess as the rest of us."

Sighing, he turned back to the dark haired beauty, including her in the conversation, "Don't suppose you've got anything to add to the tale, Pretty-Bit?"

"Anything unusual you two have noticed? People bein' where they shouldn't? Anything that maybe caught your attention the past few weeks?" Remembering the overdose incident in the Infirmary, he added, "Any new merch on the docks that shouldn't be here?"
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Mira
Posted: Jan 25 2011, 10:43 PM


Beauty & Brains


Group: OC
Posts: 61
Member No.: 415
Joined: 17-August 07



"Good 'nough, Peaches. Anytime you wanna play, my office door's open... But right now I'm workin', and that means I'm gonna be needing your name and residence number."

Charise smirked as she recoiled her hand from him. She looked to the desk and saw the pen and paper she'd been using to augment her note-taking. Taking a cue from ETW she wrote down her apartment number and name. Her eyes however weren't focused on the paper as she wrote, instead they kept contact with the husky cop causing her not to notice the name she wrote down. Mira.

She slipped the note into his pocket cracking him another smile and a wink of her own before retreating back to the desk and propping herself up on it, dangling her feet as he turned back to questioning Draven. Expanding his questioning to include her she simply nodded.

"Honey my line of work I see people ain't where they s'posed ta be all the time. Of course that's mostly cuz they're hitched. Been a long day though maybe I'll remember somethin' later ain't comin' ta me now." That last sentence resonated her for a lot more than this case. She surely would like to remember the past, find out who she really was but nothing seemed to be coming to her.
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Draven Raedwolf
Posted: Jan 27 2011, 07:37 PM


'Versal


Group: Members
Posts: 13
Member No.: 1,027
Joined: 7-November 09



The interplay between the officer standing before him and the woman, Charise, was relatively entertaining. Draven silently commended the man for his self control as he pulled the slender hand away. At least, it seemed as though her efforts made an impact. Was there to be a private meeting between the two in the near future? Draven had to stop himself from chuckling at the thought.

"Gorram it." He finally gave a disappointed utterance, "I do believe you're tellin' the truth. You're as mudder-brained about this mess as the rest of us."

Of course he was telling the truth, but Draven hastily decided not to make a comment on a statement that was obvious. It would have likely landed him in trouble, and he didn’t like being in trouble. Instead, he reserved himself to only nod in agreement as he awaited the next question to come. Just because the burly man believed in Draven’s innocence did not mean the questions were about to end.

"Anything unusual you two have noticed? People bein' where they shouldn't? Anything that maybe caught your attention the past few weeks?" "Any new merch on the docks that shouldn't be here?"

That nagging sensation tugging at the back of Draven’s head steadily grew stronger as he thought briefly about the questions, allowing Charise the time to answer before he did. “There’s always merchandise that shouldn’t be here, or anywhere else for that matter. And people are always inventing something new. I try to keep my nose out of most of that stuff, though.” A smile played across Draven’s face, “It doesn’t do a man’s health good to get himself into something dangerous and potentially life threatening.”

His expression became a mask of seriousness once more as he thought over the questions given to him earlier. “I honestly can’t say that I noticed anything strange over the last couple of weeks. Everything seemed pretty normal to me.” He sighed as he crossed his arms and leaned his hip against the countertop at his side. His eyes focused on the ground between the large man and himself as he tried desperately to run through things that had happened within the last four weeks but was constantly interrupted by pictures of Moon’s. More specifically, pictures of when he had been looking up where Poe had fallen from. His brows drew together as he tried to puzzle that certain scene out. What was so important about it?

In an attempt to free his mind of the terrible buzzing that told him he had missed something, he studied his memory, putting himself back in that place and time. Something had caught his attention when he was about to turn his gaze away… something in the shadows…

Draven’s eyes snapped back up to the officer in shock. “There was someone up there!”

This post has been edited by Draven Raedwolf on Jan 27 2011, 07:40 PM
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Skunk
Posted: Feb 16 2011, 02:29 PM


Your New Best Friend


Group: NPC
Posts: 25
Member No.: 331
Joined: 21-May 07



“There was someone up there!”

Skunk instantly relaxed.

This guy was truth-telling. Not lending him a line of used Blue Sun Gambits Cheerleader undies. This was a genuine memory. Happened, sometimes, later, once the shock wore off, a witness would revisit the moment and recall something. A part of a number, a color.

"Someone?" Skunk eased back a half-step, pad in hand to take down anything he could glean, "What do you remember about them? Anything? Clothes? Hair? Skin color? Man? Woman?"

Finally. They were ruttin' gettin' somewhere!

The problem was, this was where memories could get tricky. Raedwolf could easily mix up what he saw with what he wanted to see, some enemy he'd made in the past. Hell, Skunk'd had a witness try to tell him it was his 98 year old granny who'd run down a man in the street. Forget that granny hadn't been outta bed in three years. This guy'd sworn up an' down it was her.

"Just take your time. Shut your eyes and think back."



OOC: I am so sorry, Dom and Tyr! This post should have been up weeks ago! I'll try to keep up better in the future!
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Sera
Posted: Feb 21 2011, 10:02 PM


With a heart of... bleh, you know the line.


Group: NPC
Posts: 12
Member No.: 882
Joined: 20-December 08



Sera was chewing her hair. It was a terrible habit, and an awful one to start back up two weeks into her new gig as a ring girl with the IPFL, but anxiety was gnawing at her like... well, like someone gnawing on their hair.

Fixing, or even hiding, frayed ends wasn't quite in her budget yet, since the qualifying rounds of the tournament hadn't started and she'd already started phasing out clients from her previous occupation. Maybe Sandra with her cooky salon stall down the street could whip something up for her, but ever since that incident with her husband, Sera hadn't felt comfortable showing her face around there anymore.

She forced herself to stop. Act natural. But what was natural? How did she normally act? Perched on a stool, Sera began to tap her fingernails on the countertop; a tune she often played up top on one of the Originale's stages. No, don't draw attention to yourself, stupid. She started humming the song.

Stop that!

Something about Skunk's tone had her thinking he knew Miss Fit's secret, or at the very least suspected it had one, but the questions said that he wasn't really interested in using that information, not unless he had to. While that was good news for Draven and Melantha, it was bad for Sera.

He wasn't looking to see how Miss Fit's really made its money, he was after Poe's killer. And he was after Doc. And as far as he knew, those two may have been the same person.

That was just his job, though, and of course he would eventually end up here. He was just trying to solve Poe's murder, something she approved of wholeheartedly. Cops just made her nervous, that was all. And being reminded that Poe was dead just made things worse. She wished Melantha were here, but she had an uncanny ability to vanish when Skunk was out and about the Docks.

Yeah, just nerves, and... a little paranoia. Okay, a lot of paranoia.

She was, after all, the only one who knew where Doc was.
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Draven Raedwolf
Posted: Apr 18 2011, 08:34 PM


'Versal


Group: Members
Posts: 13
Member No.: 1,027
Joined: 7-November 09



"Someone?" "What do you remember about them? Anything? Clothes? Hair? Skin color? Man? Woman?"

Draven ran that single millisecond through his head over and over. That one short glimpse he had gotten of someone turning around to step back into the shadows was not enough to determine sex, age, or anything. The fact that he had seen it, much less remembered having seen it, was a complete surprise to him.

He glanced over to Sera who had started drumming her figures on the counter, which had been just enough to interrupt his thought process. She seemed to be quite nervous and attempted to hide it the best she could. Some people just weren’t accustomed to acting the fool when the situation called for it, poor girl. It gave Draven all the more reason to try and get the intruding officer out of the shop so business could resume as normal. “Why don’t you go see if any of the shelves out here need to be stocked? No reason to be sitting there not doing a thing, dear. It’s just bad work ethics” He smiled at the girl before returning his attention to the man before him “I’m sorry… I just…”

"Just take your time. Shut your eyes and think back."

He gazed at the officer. That’s what he was doing already, wasn’t it? Damn. He understood that the officer was eager to get any information he could, no matter how small, but it would help if he didn't look so impatient to get it. At least the man had stopped the intimidation bit. Once more, Draven looked at the ground in between them as he placed the silhouette of the mystery person besides mental pictures of people he knew or had seen that day. Nothing seemed to match up, or even come close. Maybe that had something to do with the angle from which he had seen them that night. But it was even more likely that he had never run across the person before.

With a final, firm shake of his head, Draven brought his blue eyes up to meet the man before him. “I only saw them for a second before they disappeared. It wasn’t enough to get a clear picture of who they might have been. If I had to guess, I’d say it was a man; but I don’t know how much credence you could give a simple guess.” He gave a frustrated sigh as he ran his figures through his hair. “Wish I could help you more. I really do.”
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