| Put that scar away! |
[09 Jun 2009|09:04am] |
Before this report/request. This is referred to in Cian's reply there.
Night time was best for patrolling the grid they'd established in this city called Chicago, the dark disguising the uniforms a little. But the light of day meant there were more people around, the sunlight giving confirmation that at least a person wasn't a vampire in the undead's attempt to disguise their true evil.
Cian though was more on the lookout for were creatures. They were not phased by the sun, and the fullness of the moon in this world meant that any of this kind would be feeling the undeniable tug of the devil that lived within to be given its freedom, something he knew from first hand experience, and would fight till his dying breath.
He checked his stride as he came to the corner of the street he'd been walking down, head turning slowly as he scanned the shopfronts and the people passing him by. His nose twitched at the scent of a were that the warm breeze carried to his nostrils, his eyes narrowing as he attempted to find the demon-ridden body but too many other things interfering to the point of frustration. A young girl passed by, bumping into him and muttering something about him being clumsy, was covered in a weird jacket, slit down the back to give freedom to... a pair of wings? His eyes widened as none who she passed, let alone knocked into gave her more than a scowl or a second look, as if she was... allowed?
His fingers itched, clenching and unclenching as he longed to pull out his weapon and use it to eradicate her, remove another unclean one from this plagued world. But he recalled the stern warning from their commander, that they should do nothing to bring unwarranted attention to themselves until they had established a clear line of communication with the authorities, or completed their mission, whichever came first. And their mission was to find and exterminate the fugitives who had managed to claw their way out of their allotted fates and attempt to bring their scourge to this, godforsaken world. He started to follow the winged girl down the street, but when she disappeared around a corner he stopped again, jaw clenching as he decided that to follow her would only give him more frustration. When he glanced to the storefront he'd paused outside of he did a small double take, his eyes widening as they tried to make sure of what it was he was seeing.
( "Tobias?" )
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| Not all can be Saved (Inquisitors) |
[09 Jun 2009|04:05pm] |
The sun hovered in the west over the horizon before the period of Dusk, and caused long shadows to stretch from the boarded up buildings in this part of the neighborhood, that the locals said was part of Lincoln Park. Two Inquisitors walked on the sidewalk next to what was once a Walgreen's store. They were on patrol to find one of the fugitives at large.
"May I ask you a question, Sir?" asked Kathleen Guevera looking at her fellow Inquisitor. She was without her armor or sword, those items looked too out of place in this world, but instead carried a modified pistol underneath a coat.
Tobias' dark coat hung to about his mid-thigh length, concealing his belt and weapons quite nicely. Whilst he had left one pistol behind, he had his other one strapped to his thigh, held in place and just hidden by the lengths of his dark uniform jacket. He glanced up as they passed a building that had been recently renovated, the stench of paint still clinging to the air.
It seemed, to him, a rather pointless endeavour, all this patrolling, when they had left it so long in finding the fugitives that they could be anywhere. There was nothing to say that they would remain in Chicago. Why should they when they had a whole world to infect and ruin with their demonic smear?
( Questions and revelations of doubles )
( Rescue the fallen )
( Message for all Inquisitors )
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