Roleplaying
2004 Archive
2005 Archive
Seminars
| When: | 17 February 2005 |
| Who: | Dominic (NPCed), Merazekiel (as Locke) |
| What: | Merazekiel meets with his Superior to give his report and receives new orders in return. |
Police Department
The main building for the Austin Police Department is your average multi-story building. The first three floors are for the detectives to use as they work their cases and investigate different matters that are called in. The top two floors are for the adminstration of the APD, including the Chief's office, the shift commander's offices, and the Dispatch Call Center.
It's the multiple basement levels that's the true core of the Police Department though. The first level are for the squad cars and the entry area for Central Booking; this floor opens directly onto the street by a ramp up to it. The next level down is a mix of a common area and shift lockers for the on and off duty police officers to use when they're on break or switching shifts. The third level down is the holding cells and long term cells for any 'visitors' that the police bring in.
The second floor meeting room is strangely silent and even the persistent hum of fluorescent lighting has dimmed to near nothingness. The window shades are drawn shut for the most part, except for the set on the door. Inside the room is a dark haired man wearing a dark grey suit. His visage is one that looks like it would crack if a smile passed over the thin lips. On the table in front of him is a yellow legal pad and beside it, an old style pen. The man appears to be waiting.
Journalistic privilege includes some amount of wandering around police stations anyway. Merazekiel doesn't have to be shown to the room, he walks. And knocks politely on the door first. Not that he's panicking at the meeting or anything, but it doesn't exactly do to be impolite when bearing bad news anyway.
"Enter," can be heard surprisingly clearly through the closed door. Either the department has been cutting back on expenses with hollow-core doors, or the man in the room has a strong voice.
So Merazekiel does, and doffs his hat as he pushes the door shut. He's a Seraph; the Most Holy, the pure ones. So he stands, obedient and proper, not quite to attention but close to it. He bows a little, eyes shutting for a moment out of respect.
"I have been made aware that you have some information for me, Mister Locke," the suited man says calmly and in a surprisingly soft voice. "I have also taken time out of my schedule to see you. Is it worthwhile?"
"Are we being listened to?" He reaches for his jacket pocket, produces a notebook, flicks through it. Stops, looks around. The upside to getting information from a Seraph is it's accurate. The downside is that it's unconcealed.
"Do not concern yourself with fripparies, Mister Locke," the man replies quietly. "If it was not secure then I would not be here. Your report."
"Just checking. I highlight now, in advance, that events I relate are true, but meanings and natures may not be. The first thing to say, then, is the most important. I have reason to believe that there is a Fallen Saint in Austin." Merazekiel's not reading from the notebook, but he glances down at it now. Calm as anything, he reads the nature of the beast. "The man's use-name is Christian; I do not know his family name. The surmise that he is a Fallen Saint is based upon his own words and those of other celestials which I as yet see no reason to doubt. He is currently in police custody after being shot, by a human. A good seventeen rounds, all of which were non-fatal. The Saint was healed before he was taken away by the Police. His presence interested several parties, but I was rather less concerned with examining their natures and reasons for being there in light of Christian himself."
"Seventeen rounds and not one was in a critical area? That shooter is either a terrible marksman or he had a purpose to doing that," the man remarks as he writes a few short phrases on the pad of paper. "Did you find out who did the healing?"
"The area was blanketed with peace. A Song. The man seemed to react badly, something that I would not have expected. He fired from the other side of a crowded street." The angel shrugs. "I do not know for certain, but if I was guessing, I would suspect the hand of the divine. The healing was, from the feel of the disturbance caused, from multiple sources. I believe there was a woman who attempted more mundane methods. One Song was from a woman I do not know, and the one who sung the calming Song healed with a more hands-on method."
"So be it. I have two tasks for you now, Mister Locke," the man says, capping the pen and placing both it and the pad of paper into a black soft-sided briefcase. "Number one: find out who these Singers were and to whom their affiliation lies. Intentions can appear easy enough to trace but some paths have more twists than a being with a map and compass could follow. The second task is perhaps slightly more imperative than the first. I would like for you to try and have this Christian released into your custody tomorrow. I will be readily available for contact if the second task is completed."
"The first should be easy enough. The second is more difficult." The truth, not exactly a complaint. "With your permission, I will depart now."
The man tilts his head almost regally to one side. "Dismissed, Mister Locke," he says in return.
The notebook vanishes as Merazekiel bows again before leaving.
Only a whisper of a sound gives away the sudden disappearance of the quiet man and his few belongings from the room.
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