The same time as this is taking place..."Brin, you're not usually such a chicken," Sorcha pouted, leaning against the corner of the gatepost that led into Central Park. She started making chicken clucking sounds as she poked him in the ribs with a finger ( Read more... )

Forever calm. Dispatchers seemed to be forever calm. It's almost as if she didn't fully comprehend the gravity of the call she was making over the scanner. "All units, all units. 510 in progress; Code 3.  Be warned, this is a 10-79. Suspect in a yellow Mach One Mustang traveling west on the Long Island Expressway, mile marker ( Read more... )

(Open for RP. He's landed in Central Park in the middle of the Great Lawn, at night (obviously :p).)

There was dirt in his mouth. Well, hardly the first time. On the end of a punch or a bender, it wasn’t exactly new to come round with the taste of grit on his tongue. It was in his eyes as well, grinding behind his eyelids as he dragged them apart - ( Read more... )