hot time in the old town tonight

[duology]

It is about three in the morning in downtown Chicago, and a figure is sliding in and out of the shadows, slipping through alleys and beneath overhangs. Ace is lurking around the area where the bombings took place, and for now she's doing a good job of going unnoticed. The reporters and onlookers will have gone home by now, leaving only the police.

Comments

[leanhungrytype]

Anka is a shifty creature who wandered out on her own sometime after this happened, because she was justifiably pissed off. Thankfully, she didn't shift, but she's still angry. She likes wanderers- she works for them. And people hurting the people she cares about makes her unhappy.

She's currently sitting on a bench that's hidden in the shadows, blending in with the ease of a predator, watching the conversation Ace is having with the window with a curious gaze.

"They should pay, yes?" Comes a small, agitated voice from the shadows.

[duology]

Ace senses someone nearby a few moments before Anka actually speaks. At the voice, Ace turns a little, picking out the dim figure in the shadows.

{It's Anka. Little Dragon.}

Ace nods a little and tilts her head. "They should pay. Mm. Still a matter of finding them first, though. You have an interest in finding them, too?"

[leanhungrytype]

Anka steps out of the shadows, still dressed in furs and looking a little less than sweet and innocent.

"Not under orders, no. Masters say hang back, masters say don't draw attention, masters know best. Maybe Anka is missing something, she doesn't know, but she doesn't like this."

[duology]

"I find that masters very rarely know what's best," Ace says dryly. Orders are one thing, but Ace and Dev both have not had a proper "master" since Absinthe--and considering how well that ended, they intend never to have one again.

"Still," she continues after a moment, "It's certainly safer for people to stay calm and under the radar. Until we know more, at least. Don't know how powerful they are, their capabilities, who's controlling them."

Who's controlling them. Ace frowns to herself a little. This could certainly be your normal, home-grown hate group, controlled by a few intelligent individuals. It happens; something sets people off and they snap, organize, get revenge. But things were rarely that simple in New Babylon, and their years living there have made Dev and Ace borderline paranoid. Is there someone behind this whole thing, someone pulling the strings, someone with a more complicated agenda than "kill all _____"?

If that's the case, then the question to ask is: who does this all benefit? Who gets the most out of a

[liberatechicago]

Out of the darkness comes a policeman. He makes no effort to disguise his heavy, clomping footsteps.

"Is there something you need ma'am?"

[duology]

Ace hears him coming long before he speaks. She tenses inwardly, her mind racing with possibilities of who it might be, though who other than a cop would come at her like this like he owns the streets?

She puts on a good show of being startled and cowering a little when he speaks, her expression changing in a heartbeat from serious to scared.

"Ah! Y-you scared me," she gasps, the picture of a worried Chicagoan. "I'm sorry, officer, I know I shouldn't be around here, but...I couldn't sleep, and I wanted...I wanted to see it. I mean, it doesn't feel real..."

[liberatechicago]

Maybe the cop walking up walks like he owns a bit too much of the streets. Like he can do no wrong. He saunters up to her.

"Well ma'am you shouldn't worry too much about it. We're all doing our part to keep all of Chicago's residents safe. The people who are the cause of this will be found and brought to justice."

[duology]

Cops are never to be trusted. Cops are always the enemy. These are things Ace knew from the beginning, from long before Absinthe.

This one is different. Dangerous.

Ace hugs her arms and gives a little shiver.

"I know. I'm sorry. I don't mean to interfere with your job... I'm just really no good with these sorts of things. D'you think--d'you think it's terrorists?" She slips a note of borderline panic into her voice, for good measure.