| The Problem of Integration (Inquisitors Lee and Haig) |
[01 Jun 2009|06:25pm] |
In the early part of the new millennium, as the paper industry declined and news went online, daily papers collapsed in the shrinking market. Somehow, the Sun-Times kept a toe-hold, enough to keep a Sunday edition in circulation. Rhiannon knelt at a solitary street corner stand, where a half-dozen once huddled together. Inside a plexi-glass panel, the front page announced the week's biggest headlines. She balled up her gloved fist and wiped grime away to get a better look.
"I can't believe they still have these." It was spoken with wonder. She stood up. Behind her, a storefront window reflected her image. The Inquisitor's hair was wound into a severe bun on the crown of her head. The thick sleeves and pants of her uniform were uncomfortably hot in the May climate of this city, Chicago. Even the wind blowing down the busy street was of little use, heated by the exhaust of automobiles. She looked at her hunting partner.
Warner glanced briefly at the newspapers, his expression impassive as his gaze returned to the street. "I don't understand this place," he told Rhiannon, his voice verging on monotone. "Despite the scourge that's so obviously present here, they still walk freely and carelessly." He gestured to an upscale bar across the street where a group of people were gathered, waiting to get in. The male Inquisitor frowned, resisting the urge to draw a weapon. "I think we should make a sweep. Perhaps in one of these places. I need to understand what we're dealing with here."
Rhiannon nodded, quelling her interest in the idiosyncrasies of the world to focus on the objective. A horn blasted in the intersection, which a spurt of evening traffic had brought to a standstill. She stepped off the curb and walked between the vehicles. "Shall we find one that isn't quite as monitored?" she suggested. The bar was noisy and dark, but the primary problem was waiting in a queue, where a security detail might check them for weapons. When they set out, she had left her heavier equipment at the warehouse the squad acquired, but a pat-down would reveal gadgets beneath detachable panels in her shirt and trousers. Also, it would be highly inappropriate.
( Observations On the Street )
( A Waitress With Horns )
( What's a Hamburger? )
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| Disturbance in the Force |
[01 Jun 2009|06:25pm] |
Izzy leaned back in her chair as her computer downloaded the data from her energy monitors, now scattered in a half dozen locations around the city with three of them either in or near Lincoln Park. It still seemed to be the nexus for most spikes in supernatural activity so the tech-witch had decided it was only logical to have that area get the most complete coverage.
The past few weeks had been a blur, with the most memorable event being the rescue of Kris. She hadn't seen Hayden yet, but her gear had made it back to the house the next day so Izzy was sure she'd bump into him soon.
( Interesting Results )
( E-mail to white hats )
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| Lord Foppington and the Impudent Wench (Featuring AU Tobias) |
[01 Jun 2009|11:30pm] |
Though it wasn't a quality that suited her budget, Hannah was becoming a clothes horse. It all started with Carrie's wardrobe. Most of the garments Hannah inherited didn't suit her style or measurements. What started as a replacement of lingerie (she was definitely not going to wear another woman's underwear and bras) eventually emptied the closet of seventy-five percent of its contents. Piece by piece, she added staples like jeans, sweaters, and t-shirts. Unfortunately, an obsession with discount shopping formed. A person could get great deals on last season's clothes, if they followed sales. Then she discovered vintage. Hannah loved vintage.
The shop on Belmont was pricey, but the clothes were in great condition. If she saved up, Hannah could afford an extravagance once per month. Today was the day. In the late afternoon, she circled a rack of pants, scraping their hangers along the metal rod. A red peasant blouse with white polka dots hung around her neck. She selected a pair of denim bell bottoms and held them up, examining the multi-colored patches. "Let's get crazy." Waving at the shop's owner, she dove into a dressing room and pulled the curtain.
Since his initial reconnaissance with Inquisitor Maragos (the wife of their Squad Leader rather than the leader himself), Tobias had been rather taken with trying to find out more about this strange world they seemed to have found themselves in.
Whilst many things - such as the gaseous ratios of carbon dioxide to oxygen and the human population - were the same, so many things were different. Their cultural codes and conventions were so outlandish and outrageous that he wondered what poor soul had surrendered to the devil to create such chaos. There were advertisements everywhere with women in their underwear, looking sweaty and as if they had been caught doing something that they should really only be doing with a husband to create a child. Women dressed as if it were the heat of Summer and they were in the privacy of their own homes in public, of all places. Everybody seemed so loud and uncaring that there were demons and beasts roaming in their number.
( Where Is Your Husband? )
( Cooler Doppelgangers )
( Text for Toby )
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