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The Vile Descent


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May 11 Wednesday 2017 7:15 PM Bayview, Freedom City

 

The sun was setting on Freedom City, but it was the Bayview waterfront that received particular attention. The warm red glow of the sun was reflecting off of the tranquil ocean surface, it basked the rising residences and streets in restful splendor. This peaceful illumination was matched by an unusual heat for spring, it felt like an early summer to most. The unusually warm evening was made pleasant by a warm breeze, that lofted up from the ocean and took the smells of late dinners out from the open windows of Bayview dining rooms and into the street.

 

Naomi found herself on foot taking a set of streets she’d hardly been down back to Claremont. The usual towering opulent houses had given way to rows of smaller homes, cute yards with waist high fences and rectangular backyards filled with children toys and hanging clothes. The night was quiet, and while the night was always quiet for Naomi, this particular evening she felt hardly a vibration. A steady pulse of the water running underneath her in the pipes below, the pitter patter of tiny foot steps on the sidewalk as two children ran by her. The reverberations of their laughter gliding through the warm spring air.

 

The regular stillness of it all was interrupted by two screeching thuds on the pavement blocks behind her, she could feel the roar of the sirens on her skin before the blue and red lights cast a silhouette of her as they passed by. The marked white and blue mustang that read Freedom City Police slowed down and veered right taking the next street up. It slowed to a stop out of sight and two heavy individuals got out and slammed their car doors. Without being able to see the situation on the street ahead of her, she could feel the wailing cries of a singular woman piercing the air and a slow hum of many people muttering, accompanied by the gruff tones of authorities and a whispering sense of foreboding that spread like a radial cloud from the center of the scene.

Edited by Chimeric
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Something was wrong. Naomi could feel it in her bones. It hadn’t really been that often since she’d started attending Claremont that she’d come across something like this. She wasn’t quite as…committed to the hero thing as some of her classmates were and this meant she’d seen far less action. She didn’t patrol or in any way go looking for opportunities to save the day. Still, it looked like one had found her. She ducked into an alley and changed into her Claremont uniform. Then she quickly walked to the house in question and stood by the police car. She wasn’t quite sure how to make the approach. It wasn’t like she could just introduce herself and offer to help. Or was it just that simple? She stood there, between front door and car, torn with indecision. The night’s various sounds washed over her skin. No. She’d act. She knocked on the front door frame, loudly, and held up her notepad’s other introduction page. [Hello. I’m Waverider. How can I help?]

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    There was a small crowd forming on the other side of the street, they were being interviewed en mass by the two police officers who passed by Waverider earlier. There was another police car in front of the house Waverider was knocking on the door of. There was a large broken window leading into this home’s living room to the left of Waverider, the edges of the glass were marked with a black slime. There was a trail of ooze leading from the broken window to an open manhole cover enclosed by yellow police tape in the centre of the street. Waverider could see into the home using her tactile senses. One detective was interviewing a sobbing woman while another paced talking on a cell phone.

    When Waverider knocked the three people inside stopped moving and the detective who was on her cell phone came to the front door. She swung it open and looked at Waverider, taking her in, costume and all, before reading the held note.

    “Waverider? I’ve never heard of you.” She said, eyeing the Claremont student with some curiosity. The detective didn’t carry herself defensively, she was probably used to working with costumed heroes.

Edited by Chimeric
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Waverider smiled nervously. Believe it or not, she had a prepared page for this. She’d just never used it before and thus had no idea if it would work. [I’m a junior at Claremont. I can’t talk, so my classmates tend to outshine me.] Indeed, there were at least seven other juniors who kept quite busy on the heroic front. She pulled her pen out of her notepad’s spirals and added a line to the page. [I can’t hear, either, but I can read lips and feel sound.] She wondered, idly, if anyone around here knew sign language. It tended to be faster than writing everything out.

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The detective at the front door eyed Waverider cautiously weighing if she could trust her. She stepped outside the house and closed the door behind her, joining Waverider on the front step. She was a strongly built woman of northern European heritage wearing the standard issue dark blue uniform, her badge and radio hung off the shoulders of her bullet proof vest and a pair of dark aviators were tucked into the vest covering the letter “o” in the white “Police” printed on her front.

 

“I’m Detective Sergeant Veras of Freedom City PD.” Veras faced Waverider so she could read her lips clearly. Waverider realized she took longer to pronounce parts of certain words, a mark of a southern accent. Her grip tightened on her dark blue peaked cap.

 

“Some creature came out of the sewers and grabbed the child through the window here.” Veras used her peak cap to motion to the hole in the window.

 

“Crawled back down there with him.” She then motioned to the open sewer grate that was enclosed in yellow tape.

 

“You understand me?” She slid the peaked cap over her closely cropped blond hair and put her hands on her hips.

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Waverider nodded yes, and then flipped to a unused page and wrote. [May I go after her?] She didn’t have a lot of technical expertise, so analyzing the window to determine what kind of creature broke in was out. She could eavesdrop on the officers interviewing the crowd, but that seemed kind of…rude? Actually…now that she thought about it… She wrote more. [Can you tell me anything about the creature?] That would be kind of important. Appearance, any natural weapons, size. You know, the basics. She should know what she’d be up against.

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