Raeden (Rae) Seiko

Government/Law
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53 Setting the Bar High

About Raeden (Rae) Seiko

  • Rank
    Feet Wet

CHARACTER PROFILE

  • GENDER
    Female
  • PLAY-BY
    Maggie Q
  • AGE
    36
  • SEXUAL ORIENTATION
    Heterosexual
  • RACE
    Altered Human
  • JOB
    Detective-Sp. Crimes/Narcs/Homicide
  • LOCATION
    New York City Police Department - 10th Precinct
  • FACTION
    Government/Law
  • APPEARANCE
    Raeden Seiko ('Ray-den Say-ko')
    At 5'6" Rae's imposing personality can at times make up for her more diminutive stature. Her father was Asian and her mother Irish/Italian, making her mixed heritage very evident in her features. Light brown eyes often fall into a more hazel or amber hue, particularly when focusing on a crime scene.

    She is almost always dressed to work. Slacks or jeans and a tank under a button up is her go-to look with her piece tucked into the back of her waistband. When she does dress up she is stunning. Just exotic enough to turn heads.
  • PERSONALITY
    Behind her back she has been called a Barracuda. The moniker is fairly well deserved. She is a tireless workaholic who believes deeply in what she is doing. The job comes first. She is also fiercely protective of her "blue" family. She opened the gym to give them a safe place to go and has used her position often to fight the take over of New York law enforcement by any private sector including the Vanguard and New World Defense Division. She wont admit it but she has also been known to quietly bail her "family" out of troubles.

    On the flip side, in those rare times she relaxes she is funny and playful. Her wit can be a bit dark and wicked.
  • PERSONAL BELONGINGS
    Owner of Precinct Gym - formerly Gotham Gym in the West Village. She rehabbed the gym in 2013 so those on the force had a place to work out. The gym is on the second floor, the entrance a non-descript door with no signs to indicate what is up there nor the cops that might be working out there. The gym is not open to the public, its private and for the "men in blue" only. Its anonymity to the public is her way of keeping the police force safe.

    1988 Jeep Wrangler - black with both a soft and hard top but she prefers to drive it convertible when the weather permits. In fairly good shape it still drives decent even in the New York winters.

    Like many on the force, she has a large collection of guns. The piece she normally sports in the back band of her slacks is her Glock 22.
  • SOCIAL AFFILIATIONS/RELATIONSHIPS
    While she works with both ARMA and Vanguard she holds no love for either.

STAFF APPROVED ABILITIES/SKILLS/HISTORY

  • APPROVED ABILITIES
    Synesthesia:
    Rae is able to enhance or detract all her natural senses except taste and touch. She can enhance her eyesight to see at microscopic levels, hear heartbeats from meters away, and even determine the chemical composition of objects by smell. Paired with her FBI studies regarding chemical compounds, and micro-biologic structures she at times becomes a "walking crime lab". Her ability is incredibly useful in criminal investigations.

    Rae is only able to super-enhance one sense at a time. The more she enhances one particular sense, the less effective her other senses become. In some circumstances, the other senses shut down all together. For example, talking to her while she is visually inspecting a crime scene can result in no response because she has not heard a thing.

    Magnifying Vision:
    When enhanced, Rae is able to "zoom" into her surroundings. It acts almost like a zooming lens, shifting inward in stages. She cannot magnify from normal to 100x, she goes through several stages of "zooming" in. Because of this she tends to tune out everything around her as the focus gets clearer and clearer. Rae can go as deep as 300x magnification, the equivalent of a fairly good microscope.

    Hyperacusia:
    Rae has the ability to enhance her hearing far beyond the scope of normal human capability. She can hear soft sounds and pitches usually reserved for dogs. Her enhanced hearing can block out ambient sounds to focus on a specific source or frequency. As such, she can pick out a single voice in an cacophony of noises. Her acuity can go as far as 500 feet but after that she cannot hear any better than the average human.

    Hyperosmia:
    Rae can magnify scents and detect specific people, objects, substances including chemicals, and track a scent from up to a mile away. She can even detect sicknesses by which hormones/smells a target excretes.
  • APPROVED SKILLS
    As part of her training pre and post Resonance, Rae is a highly skilled kickboxer as well as a lethal marksman. She puts in time in her gym daily as well as hits the range at least five times a week to ensure she never gets rusty.

    A bit of a health nut, Rae has developed some mad cooking skills.

    Negotiator - as part of her FBI training she had studied multiple forms of negotiations including hostage. When put to the test it turned out she had a natural affinity for the skill. More than once this has diffused a potentially explosive situation. It is also how she has managed to keep the New York precincts a public service and not fall to the private sector.
  • APPROVED HISTORY
    Special Agent Seiko. She had fought hard to earn the title. She grew up with little but a strong sense of ethics from her parents. Her dad had made it onto the New York Police force and she had looked up to him for as long as she had understood he protected everyone. He had specialized in narcotics but had an eye on the FBI, an impossible aspiration for one not born in the US. Unfortunately, the man she revered was lost to her just shy of her twelfth birthday in a hostage shoot out. She then spent the rest of her time planning her life with the golden ring being a spot in the FBI that her father couldn’t reach.

    She had dual majored in finance and accounting knowing that it was the best chance for getting into Quantico. She was a gym rat throughout school, always preparing. In college she had actually made time for a relationship. Justin had proposed the night of their graduation and she had accepted. But the happily ever after they had envisioned was short lived. An engineering major he found work in Texas while she made it into Quantico. They tried to make it work at first, but he tried more than she did. Her drive had taken over until she got a letter breaking it off, and that was all she wrote. Seiko had been one of the youngest to get through both the New Agent and Intelligence training, and was a Field Agent only two years before she was given the prestigious title of Special Agent, leading investigations. Even back then she was an animal. Focus was intense as was her dedication.

    Respected and running massive investigations by 2010, Rae was running one in New York when the Nevus occurred and turned her world upside down.

    Losing her mother and her beloved FBI she had to find a new purpose. The world needed protectors and she was at the ground floor of rebuilding the New York Police Department. Asked to be the chief, she turned it down. Seiko was never a desk jockey. Shorthanded, she is the lead detective for Narcotics and Homicide for the 10th precinct.

    It was her first homicide that triggered her Synesthesia. It had been disorienting and yet quickly she understood the value such a gift was giving her. Her studies in the FBI had exposed her to so much that she was a walking crime lab, add her gifts and she didn’t even need to collect evidence half the time.

    Protective of her fellow law enforcement she has found her natural place in the new world.

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  1. Just Another Day at the Office....

    As Pharos nearly got their heads sliced off, her eyes rolled, huffed frown betraying she wasn’t impressed. Wonderful… more "civilians" to save….. Murmur was under her breath but elicited a chuckle out of Lance who had used the Pharos diversion to get back to her side, blood trickling down his cheek from his temple. NPC:…we got a plan..? Ya…. Let the hammer kill them for a while and see if any of the team…... Voice trailed off as the head of this farce was suddenly there and yapping at them. “Agent Kayne, Pharos. I need the who, what, when, and why on this hammer, now. And if you know anything about how it’s doing this, even better. Speak!” Lance took a slow visible step away from the line of fire as her brow lifted at the man. If Gail wasn’t dead yet…. he would be for leaving her to the inept of the Pharos leftovers. IF we knew what was powering it do you think we would have even called YOU?..... IF you are Pharos… shouldn’t you know those things?…. There was a menacing staccato to her words as she stepped closer to the man. IF you were worth anything as an agent, don’t you think that YOU should be telling me the facts?… Step to the right was sudden as out of the corner of her eye she had been tracking the hammer, gliding out of its path at the last minute as she continued. ……IF artifacts are your specialty don’t you think that YOU should be confining that thing already? Arm snapped out in the direction of the hammer as it exploded into the wall just beyond them, shards of concrete ricocheting through the air like small bullets. Huff through her nostrils dismissed the man as she dodged, the hammer coming back for the two of them. Hand snatched Lance by the shoulder to ensure he moved out of her way while not moving into the path of the hammer. This was an absolute fiasco.
  2. Just Another Day at the Office....

    Anger was fueling action as she sprinted across rubble covered floors, scowling as she leapt over a blue clad arm sticking out from under a chunk of second floor concrete twitching. Dead blue. Fuck. Knee dropped and skidded along the floor as body momentum let her pivot the slide, back against the wall as her hand snatched the large duffle one of the cops had walked in with. Zipper was yanked open as she slammed her hands into it searching. Where…..where… Muttering to herself she sought the small shoulder MRO-A rocket launchers. It was usually used to blow down steel doors when they were after bad guys but in this case, she was willing to improvise. Weapon perched on her shoulder as she pushed her knee hard into the ground for balance, tracking the hammer through the scope on top of the barrel. She wasn’t expecting miracles, but it would hopefully slow the damn thing down. Ears itched at the scrape of the door opening up front. Either they had more bad guys coming through, or Pharos had finally gotten off their damn asses and had arrived. Either way she didn’t have time to find out. Tracking continued until she got the clear shot, which she only got because it was coming straight for her. Breath was slow then held in her chest s the head of the hammer was targeted. 3…..2…….1 Eruption of the missile was violent, pushing her back on the floor despite her braced position. Projectile hit the front of the hammer with enough force to blow steel doors apart. Basic metal would have been shredded, but as expected the hammer was not basic metal. Hammer was blown backwards with the force, spinning end over end before it slammed into the far wall. Lance!.... still alive…. NPC: Ya….'ey Seiko…. am officially putting in my week off starting now…. She couldn’t help the smirk at his humor. Eyes flicked from the hammer still vibrating embedded in the wall to the scene around her. They had one dead for sure, likely more. As the large doors pushed open her gaze snapped to the agents, their embroidered badges giving them away. About damn time…… Words barely got out before the hammer freed itself from the wall across the warehouse and targeted the fresh blood. Here they went again…………….
  3. Just Another Day at the Office....

    It seemed an eternity. Where the FUCK was the Pharos agent? The thought zipped through her head as she dodged behind a concrete pillar for the hundredth time. The party was down to her, Lance and two in blue. The other two had gone down with their counterparts, one was bleeding profusely from his temple and was going to need medical attention soon. Pharos didn’t get here soon, she was going to be heading over there to threaten their asses. She had no qualms pitting them against ARMA and the Order who all wanted first dibs on new artifacts. She didn’t give a shit who came so long as they were reliable. With Gale that had become Pharos hands down. But something odd was going on there, this was the second time Gale was "not available" which meant perhaps they were not the preferred partner in this anymore. HEADS UP Her call came barely in time for the blue to drop to the ground a split second before the mallet struck the wall he had been standing against, concrete block exploding in shards around him. With fewer targets it meant they were all forced to dodge much more frequently. They were getting tired. NPC: We cant keep this up….. Lance's breath was coming in labored heaves as he sat on the floor behind an old metal sewing table. Well I am open to suggestions…… Shooting it hadnt had any effect and there wasn’t anything in the abandoned warehouse strong enough to trap it in…. at least not while it had that ridiculous momentum. Likely the way to get it under control was to halt its movement. So who exactly was going to try and catch it? Hammer hit another pillar and this time the entire concrete column exploded, shuddering the ground even outside the building. As the debris flew she could hear the echo of something far more ominous. Another "heads up" was inhaled for a strong shout but she never had the chance as suddenly half the second floor gave way, the concrete ground dropping in massive chunks all around them, forcing a mass scramble from all those still on their feet. Those who had already been rendered unconscious would need to be found after. She wasn’t certain they were all clear of the rubble. They might have lost a blue. Fuck……. just another day at the office…..
  4. Bedknobs and Broomsticks....

    She was evading. That much was becoming very apparent and that began a seed of doubt about the whole story she was being fed. “As I said before, I am not well acquainted with the man. I could not presume anything about his views regarding outworlders. And the only time I observed him being aggressive is when he is aggressively losing his money at the casino.” Impassive expression watched nostrils flar, lips draw to a thin line. The woman had crossed into a high level of discomfort. “I wonder what would you like to ask me next, his political alignment, perhaps? Would you want to know if I knew how he voted last election, as well?” She was unraveling. It was a common occurrence when the skilled detective interrogated, but typically it occurred with the guilty… could this woman be…….? “Now, if you would be so kind as to excuse me. Time is gold, and that is literally true in my case. I would love to stay and chat, but then I would have to bill you … and your department could not afford my rates.” So Kleski's whore. She had thought Bakkhos was more…. upper class… than that. Perhaps she was wrong. Other possibility was they didn’t know and the woman was working their clientele on the side. Brow lifted at the attempt to intimidate the detective with her "icy" review. There had been a harsh comment on the detectives lips to inform the woman that her "Mikhail" was dead but she held her tongue based on that reaction. Instead the detective remained impassive, hands still neatly slid away in her pockets. The abrupt exit was a nail in the coffin. The woman was now a suspect which meant the detective no longer wanted to talk to her anyway, she wanted to talk to her superiors. It wasn’t like Bakkhos to leave a mangled corpse out in the open, not like them at all. Which left that this was a rogue act and they would need to be made aware of it. Walking out of the room the gaze followed the woman, catching her going straight for the exit elevators. Typical behavior for the guilty… to attempt an escape. Suspect….definitely. The guard came up with a smile and nodded to her. NPC: got your answers? No actually…. I did not. Lucky around? It was a statement more than a question and the security guard frowned, instantly glancing after the other woman who was leaving, clearly wondering what had transpired behind closed doors. NPC: …ya….. think he is. Will see for ya… With that the man walked away to make a phone call. She followed at a distance, going over the conversation in her head once more, as well as the gory crime scene. She would prefer to talk to Gaspari, but she knew Cavalli ran the casino and it was all about hierarchy in Bakkhos.
  5. Bedknobs and Broomsticks....

    Answers were slower to come. The woman was thinking before she spoke now. It was always easier to get information when people didn’t think first. Didn’t mean one couldn’t figure out the truths, just meant they were sometimes more hidden. Keen eyes watched lips press more tightly together. The woman was deciding what to say and more importantly… what not to say. Seemed she might have known Mr Kleski well. “There was an incident… two days back, at the strip club. Mikhail got a little rough with one of the veil-crosser temping for Penthouse, and her bouncer boyfriend went ballistic. Broke Mikhail’s nose, I think. But it was one of those things that could happen at any given night at any given club, and last I heard, no charges were pressed.” Expression remained impassive as she drank in the information. There was a clear dodge at the end as she attempted to dismiss the importance of the incident even after sharing it. Sounded like there might be some latent hostility for outworlders there. His interest in the female outworlders was not that unique for one that might hate the strangers that had been dropped on their world. A boy who was fascinated with butterflies often had urges to rip their wings off. He was starting to take shape much in line with her original thoughts based on the crime scene. Hazel watched the flex of tendons along her fingers as the grip on her glass tightened. There was a tenseness in her vocals as well. The woman had grown uncomfortable. “If that would be all? My apologies, but I have somewhere else to be. ” Interesting. Looking for an escape. The detective remained impassively standing, hands still casually in her pockets. Kleski have a general beef against outworlders? Or was that the first time you saw him get aggressive? Head tilted slightly at the woman. Clearly not ready for the conversation to end.
  6. Bedknobs and Broomsticks....

    Being a really good detective was a strange amalgam of skills. One had to be part scientist, part street fighter, part psychologist, part patient parent, part chameleon and too often part cold blooded killer. On interviews it was parent and psychologist that had to be tapped into the most. The woman seemed to realize the mistake quickly. The tinge of crimson shading along the tips of alabaster pale ears was evidence of that as the guard escorted the second man beyond prying eyes. Hands slid casually into the pockets of her slacks as she followed when the woman beckoned. From behind, the hazel studied the way she moved. There was a grace there that was more natural to the outworlders than the earthborn. Not always, but often. The detective didn’t say a word as they found a private lounge and the woman took the opportunity to pour herself a drink. A move that seemed to betray nerves. An assessment reinforced by the fact that without so much as a "hi" from the detective, the woman began to talk, spilling information on the man without any prompting. Brow lifted as the woman continued to talk about his loss last week and nouveau riche status. The deluge of information abruptly came to a halt as quickly as it started. Another sign there was anxiety at play here. The flush once more painted the white skin of the woman's ears. Clearly what she rattled off was not all she knew. The fact that the detective was directed to this woman and not to a dealer, or a guard, or management was a bit telling about the man. It was also telling about the woman. Escort…. confidant……companion…. girlfriend perhaps? Of all the options the last seemed least likely. The body had been pretty mangled but enough was there to know Kleski hadnt exactly been a supermodel. “If I may ask, is he in some kind of trouble, Ms -? Seemed she finally realized she had been running her mouth as that flush stained her ears. Seiko….Detective Seiko. Quiet words were calm as the hazel met the woman's. Does Mr Kleski have any enemies that you know of? Maybe racked up some big debts he hasn’t paid back? Head tilted waiting to see the response before deciding where to take the interview.
  7. Bedknobs and Broomsticks....

    Hands slid into her jeans, cold still biting through to her bones despite the casino bathing her in heated air as she waited patiently for someone to talk to. Hazel eyes slid around the floor. The swanky of New York seemed to have all congregated here to get out of the cold. The casino had rooms above so likely they were camping out here until the ice age passed, stuck as vehicles literally froze into their parking spots. If Lance was smart he stayed in the car and kept it running so the damn thing didn’t freeze. Eyes slid up to the woman as she was addressed by the security guard when she approached. “Ah, here she is. Miss Vasiliev, these two officers are looking for information on one Michael Kleski?” Brow lifted wondering who the second "officer" was. A man standing nearby grinning at her like she was part of the female entertainment. Hazel rolled as she turned back to the Bakkhos security. He is not with me… and you might want to check him because the jacket is pulling on the left side. Firearm under there. The security guards frowned and instantly moved to handle the leering "gentleman" behind her. A brief scuffle leading the guy away to a backroom. What idiot wandered into Bakkhos trying to sneak in a gun? Hers had been briefly flashed to the guard with her badge so there was complete awareness despite it being hidden under her jacket. Hazel slid instead to the woman they had brought down to talk to her. She wasn’t that surprised. What was left of the guy showed a high end suit and some custom jewelry. “I would be more than happy to help you with your inquiries, officers. One small request, though. Can we discuss this matter in one of the private rooms? While we are grateful for the service you provide this city, police presence is not exactly conducive for the type of business we are in. I hope you understand.” As a plain clothed detective she might have been offended by the assumption that she was "recognized" as law enforcement, however she was also making a name for herself in New York as one of the few that really did their job and did it equally for an earthborn or outworlder. A fact that wasn’t winning her a lot of friends and making her face more known. She also had a reputation for not being bribable which had her on several hit lists. Fortunately for the moment Bakkhos was not one of those. Indifferent shrug came with a nod as she followed the woman to a private lounge. It wasn’t the first time she had been to one. Several visits had resulted in a personal conversation with Angelo Gaspari in the past.
  8. Just Another Day at the Office....

    February 7, 2021 - 3pm @Darius Kayne She dropped to the floor for the third time, swearing in several languages under her breath as she watched one burly man in blue get knocked on his ass, thrown completely across the old Manhattan clothing warehouse. This was getting ridiculous. Pushing into a seated position she pulled out her phone, hazel carefully tracking the blunt force object jetting around their crime scene. The minute it was answered she didn’t wait for a hello. Detective Seiko… put me through to Atticus Gale. Eyes kept tracking, a sharp "LANCE" catching her partner's attention causing him to dodge just in time for it to go whizzing past his head. A grumbled thanks was her reward as she listened to the woman on the other end of the line. I understand he isn't there at the moment but I need to be patched through…… Scowl was instant as the high pitched answering dingdong on the other end kept talking. What do you mean you are not authorized?! This is Detective Seiko, we call in Gale when there are artifacts located at crime scenes that need to be secured. This is an arrangement we have had for nearly two years now! She was losing her patience with the woman. Something was going on at Pharos, or had happened to Gale personally. Either answer didn’t leave her thrilled but she still needed this damn thing under control. The woman was sharply cut off. Listen… I could care less about your protocols. Just send over an agent that can deal with a hostile artifact. We got a carved metal mallet with a head the size of a German shepherd flying around my crime scene like its Thor's hammer on steroids. I got a body that seems to have been killed by it and two cops down as it targets every living things in general. Breath paused as she suddenly dropped to her back and rolled quickly, the enormous head of the mallet striking where she had been sitting, shattering the concrete floor into dust and fragments of stone. The old Ferrara Manufacturing warehouse on 39th….. get someone over here now! The sharp tones never shouted and yet the woman on the other end barked a quick "yes M'aam" back at her. She had that effect on people. Phone snapped shut as she scrambled back to her feet as the two foot wide head of the hammer blasted through the side of a concrete pillar, sending shards in all directions like a wild spray of water. Fuck this was just getting better and better. Pharos on its way… just need to keep it from escaping now…. There were groans from the four men still on their feet. They all made a silent prayer that Pharos got their asses there quick.
  9. Bedknobs and Broomsticks....

    “Victim is male, Caucasian, around 250 pounds. Liver temperature is 23 degrees Celsius and estimated time of death around – shit … 8 hours? With this godforsaken weather I might have to adjust calculations, not sure if it’s still 1.5 per hour in this frozen hell.” The hazel eyes flicked towards the tech, long lashes bearing a white haze of frost on their tips. Incorrect. Killed two hours ago at most….. She quietly corrected him, causing him to pause the recorder which was starting to freeze in the unnatural ice age. The kid was called out by the fifth precinct and therefore not accustomed to working with the detective that was a walking forensic lab on her own. She worked with Lance. He had the good sense to stay out of her way until she finished her assessments. The kid was carelessly traipsing over her crime scene, disturbing the evidence in the snow of the alleyway, footsteps marred by his own as he conducted his spell to discover what she had already spotted with magnified pupils. Normally she would have crucified the kid but truth was she had already studied the scene and didn’t need to hang out in the arctic abomination any longer than necessary. “Boss, have something over here!” She frowned at the loud term of authority. One didn’t go throwing out who was in charge in potentially hostile territory, not unless you were a naïve idiot or trying to get your boss killed. She dropped the kid squarely into the first category. She had already turned away, glancing up into a dark window of the second story as she shifted the balaclava back over her lower features to protect against the wind. Hazel studying the iridescent eyes that studied her from above. Empire Casino chip….. high roller one to be precise. He glanced up at her back wondering how she knew that from across the alley. She had spotted it early in her investigation, the glitter of it harsh against the blood stained white snow. So her perp, who was now her victim, was a high roller at the Bakkhos property. That didn’t bode well for them. For the most part she left Bakkhos alone so long as they didn’t pull stupid shit with civilians. They wanted to kill off other mob and gangs she said let them at it. Less criminal activity she had to deal with. She was there to protect the innocent and those didn’t usually get caught up in Bakkhos affairs. But if the "family" was suddenly taking out Outworlders in some twisted form of bigotry…. that was her business. Turning she focused on the bag with the wallet, the license slid into the front window betraying her victims name. Get the body back to the station and start the paperwork. With that she headed back to the car and a shivering Lance trying to keep it running and heated. Door cracked as she opened it, the sheet of ice on the exterior shattering. Fuck they shouldn’t be out here. Slamming it shut she nodded to him as hands pushed towards the vents trying to melt the ice on her outter clothing. Empire casino….. NPC: huh? Hazel looked at him with a quirked brow. NPC:…. ya ok ok… the casino By the time they pulled up to the casino she was almost thawed out, the outter layer of several left in the car when she strode rapidly into the casino leaving Lance to park the car. Hand swiped her coat from her hip, detective badge flashing to the security at the door with a nod. They tended to be pretty respectful the security at Bakkhos properties. I am looking for information on Michael Kleski. As a diamond chip high roller am assuming someone would be available to answer some questions?
  10. Bedknobs and Broomsticks....

    December 15, 2020 2pm - still under the ice age of fae fury event White curled from her lips in thick smoke rings as blue lips pursed staring at the crimson spattered snow. Omenwich was known as a haven for Outworlders and it seems the Outworlder violence had found its way here. Thick boots carefully picked over the snow as eyes magnified the ground to ensure she stayed out of the actual crime scene. Satisfied she wasn't intruding on evidence she released the magnification in time to hear the faint scratch at a window. Hazel lifted in time to see the eyes before the curtain fell away in the window. Residents were skittish. Likely as much by her presence as the crime scene she was investigating. Cops were usually the last any magus helped, so like her precinct family, she didn't have the "fortune" of wearing enhanced clothing against the cold. Instead she had done it the old fashioned way, merino wool long underwear wicked the moisture away from her skin and gave her a warm base layer. On top she had loose moleskin pants to trap the heat inside and a wool sweater on top to do the same. Last layer was a military polar parka that came well down on her thighs, fur lined hood snapped up and tied under her chin which was nestled inside a fleece balaclava that went over her head. She was dressed for the arctic. Yet all that didn't stop the crystals of ice from forming on her lashes as she focused on the crime scene. Fingers flexed in the double layer of gloves as she listened to her partners teeth chatter, they were the only crazies out in the weather. Fingers lifted to pull the balaclava back over her mouth and nose before speaking. Lance... back to your car before I have another body out here. NPC:... am fine.....rrrreally... The unconvincing reply came as she watched his lips flush deeper blue. uh huh...... get going. You need about another two layers before you can survive out here for more than fifteen minutes. Go. Her tone made it evident she wasn't playing. Four officers had died in the last month from exposure. New York couldn't afford to lose any more. As he finally gave up and headed back to the vehicle that struggled to keep running as it was, she went back to the crime scene and the blood spattering as high as fifteen feet on the alley walls. Two victims. She was sure of it. But she only had one body. Something told her there was an Outworlder crime first... but that anyone stupid enough to attack in Omenwich had found themselves on the receiving end of revenge. She suspected her first perpetrator was the body she had now.... not the victim. That body was the one that had been dragged away from the tracks in the snow... winged perhaps based on the drag marks? Again she was acutely aware of eyes on her. Seemed she was the center of attention here.
  11. Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free.

    She wasn’t sure if the other detective was going to make it. She looked a little green. Of course, so did most of the force now out trying to hold back the curious public. To her credit though, Wynn was coming on board the ship behind her, a feat most of the blues below were not willing to do once they heard what was on the ship. There was a faint annoyance in the thought because she knew that while for some it was the horror and stench that kept them away, for others, it was their bigotry against outworlders. World had been turned upside down, come face to face with the future… and yet they hadn't evolved a single iota. Boots hit the rusted metal of the belly, walking the perimeter slowly, feet placed meticulously so that no evidence was disturbed while the eyes began to assess. The frowns from the coroners team were ignored. They never understood how she was so calm in the face of such horrors. There was time to be upset and disgusted later, right now the dead needed her forensic skills. Head tilted as with the lights on she could see things she had missed before, dark lashes flicking up and to the side, clearly tracking some unspoken train of thought. "They must have been in here for weeks, even months." Freighter this size take about five weeks to cross…. saw some rotor damage outside so likely she runnin' slow…. six maybe seven weeks…. The murmur was almost to herself as she crouched near a pile of older bodies, the fester of decomposing flesh showing bones protruding through. “There's no way the guy would casually hang around the dock for someone. Even if we get a good description, who's to say that he isn't wearing a disguise? Regardless, that is the best option. Talking to the dock master, get something, anything out of that guy.” Stepping over a small decomposed body, presumably a child she crouched closer, head tilting the other way as the pupils flushed and contracted, zooming in on what had caught her eye before the left hand went out beside her and fingers snapped. A suited forensic expert came over instantly, they were familiar with Seiko and the fact that if she spotted something, it was worth paying attention. These two were shot. NPC: huh? They were always dumbfounded how she could see these things without autopsies, especially with the severe decomposition of the bodies. Shot… there are at least two slugs in this tanker and I want them. Standing she glanced back to the doorway then to where the two were. Farthest point. Against the wall, likely went first. Likely shot as they were being closed in, probably figured out they were in trouble as they were being locked in. Again the murmur seemed to be mostly to herself. Glancing to the white suit the authoritative tone returned and left no room for arguing. I want the make and model of the weapon before tomorrow noon. NPC:… we don’t even have the slugs you cant…. Well you better start focusing on finding them. Trail would go cold if they didn’t get moving. “Maybe we can get in contact with the Vanguard. They might know something.” Brow quirked at the woman. Was she kidding? Go to the organization that touted "human first"? For all she knew they were behind this death cruise. What better way to start purging the world than set up a false underground railroad and kill the outworlders in droves as they fled persecution. Doubt it. It was all she was saying on the matter as she moved through the carnage once more. With the beginning removals it was apparent they were right around seventy bodies in various states of decomposition. I want to know if any others were shot by the end of the night. Her demand was met with grumbling but she didn’t stick around, moving back up the stairs and taking a deep breath once on the deck again. Being submerged in the festering "coffin" below, the stench on deck seemed almost refreshing in comparison. Hands rested on her hips as she paced the deck looking over the rusted metal looking for more clues. Not the first event like this we seen in New York….. first one of this size though…..
  12. Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free.

    Sense of smell was dulled purposefully as she let her ears and eyes take the lead. Partially to continue her observations, partially to protect herself from the gag reflex that nearly every cop on the dock was now suffering from. Since no one really knew or understood her gifts she was simply seen as indifferently cold to such horrors. She noted the coroners had all put on gas masks…. half a brain at least between them. "Cheese and rice" Brow quirked upward at the woman. That was….different. She watched the woman fight the same battle as the others, pinching the bridge of her nose to stave off the horror that was wafting on the air. "I'd like to do what I can to assist with this case." She blinked at the woman as the team of white suits made past her to head up the plank. Despite what some said of her, the Asian was not arrogant nor elitist. Good hands were hard to come by in the new world and she knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. Head tilted towards the plank inviting the detective to follow as she herself turned and already started up the rusted support back up to the deck of the freighter. "Where do we begin? Do we have a lead?" Nod was faint as she leaned a hip against the rusted rail to let the forensic teams all head down into the hull. Human cargo, all appear to be outworlders. If I were to bet I would say the ship originated in Ireland and they were promised some sort of freedom. Hand rubbed under her chin as the eyes watched the last team descend into the black abyss, light beginning to glow up the stairs as the white suited city servants set up flood lights inside the container. She had been waiting for that as she pushed from the rail and headed towards the steps, the detective welcome to follow if she could stomach it. Trotting down the metal steps she kept talking. Door was locked from the outside with no windows or access to basics. Looks like they started dying on the way. Survivors tried to pile the dead on one end and from the little I could see, I would say they started cannibalizing the dead in an effort to survive. Head nodded as she hit the doorway and her assumption was confirmed. The flashlight had already highlighted it for her but now with the flood lights in the massive container the bite marks on bones and flesh were apparent. Eyes zoomed in several times looking over details and forcing her sense of smell into dormancy, at least as far as it could go, the stench of death, urine and feces still permeating. The claw marks on the metal walls told the story of their desperation to escape. This was not what they had signed up for. Dock master took cash from a man to dock but the guy never came back. My partner is getting all the details he can from the dock master now. The pile was thicker than she had seen in the dark. Their body count was likely closer to sixty five or seventy. Fuck… Soft swear of near defeat escaped her lips even as eyes didn’t seem to betray any emotions. The world was getting worse by the day and she wasn’t sure there was a way to reverse the rapid decline anymore.
  13. Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free.

    NPC: Play Nice….. The soft whisper near her as Lance passed behind her shoulders was met with a grunt soft in her chest as she signed the coroners release to start removing bodies. She had spotted the detective already as she made her way through the crowd. I always play nice…… They crossed paths often. The former FBI Special agent was now the Detective for special crimes, homicides and narcotics, she often found herself at the same crime scene as the violent crimes Detective. Mostly amicable. Truth be told, the Asian had stepped on more than a few toes from the other divisions when she promptly told them how they were wrong in their assessment of a crime scene. Her forensic gifts made her nearly never wrong and while others respected this, she had a tendency of being a little less than politically correct in her sharing of her corrections of the observations of others. You don’t have enough trucks by the way. The coroner representative blinked at her and glanced back at the four big white trucks. NPC: Really? …….really. His soft fuck came with a sigh as he nodded and flipped open his phone to make a call. Hand ran over the top of her head, pulling back the stray ebony strands that had escaped. Nostrils flared as the winds shifted. Frown etched her brow. Fuck. The breeze was going to carry the stench into the city now, a fact made clear as several on the dock began gagging and covering their mouth and noses. They would have the site-seers in no time now. So much for trying to keep the whole fiasco quiet. As Wynn approached the coroner rep that had just flipped his phone shut the detective listened to the question on her lips. "How many are in there?" Before the guy could shrug her own voice carried over. More than fifty. She watched the man spin around to gape at her before flipping his phone open again and calling in even more reinforcements as he marched back to his truck to gear up for a very long night. Nod was faint but acknowledging. Detective Wynn.
  14. Not all is what it seems......

    She had started walking even as she made the invitation to join her. Either he did… or he took his chances with CDC. At this point she didn’t care, she had done her good deed for the day and was fighting her own exhaustion, not to mention she had a few more hours of forensics on her crime scene before she had the luxury of going home like the other exhausted blues. She was vaguely aware of his steps as he caught up and of a booted set… Lance… and from the sound of their cadence he was still walking on very unsteady limbs. He tolerated the antivirals better than the other blues since like her, he had been forced to take them more often. But he still hadn't built up the tolerance she had. CDC tries to set foot on my crime scene… shoot them… Despite the strain in the sound, she could hear Lance chuckle. The murmur was half under her breath…. Wasn’t really kidding…… Bare feet stepped over the first pieces of debris as she approached the old maritime building. NPC:…hey….. HEY…. Rae! He stumbled to catch up with her, hand snatching her arm as they both nearly lost balance. NPC:…shit Rae…can't go wandering in a bomb site without any shoes… She blinked at him before glancing down at her faintly orange feet. He had a point. Sighing she headed for her jeep instead. Pair of sneakers should be in her gym bag. Hip rested against the door of her jeep as she pulled blue and white sneakers over the stained toes, not bothering with any socks. ”Anytin’ else ah need’a do on yer end right now, or am ah jus’ good to fuck off an’ scrub tis fuckin’ orange shit off?” Hazel lifted to the ARMA soldier, pausing a moment before giving a shake of her head, second heel pulling onto the gunked heel. No…. get your men taken care of…. be sick few days but if they have half a dick they can be workin' by tomorrow already. Banging her feet on the ground as though to fix the sneakers on her appendages but more to feel the earth beneath herself and ensure she wasn’t going to keel over. I have a crime scene still need to finish forensics on.. Head was shaking as she turned away from him, words to herself not to him. Need to get ahead of this damn war….
  15. Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free.

    Hazel watched Lance talk to the harbor master as she rested a hip on the railing, continuing to breathe deep the fresh air. This cross the pond shit had been spilling to their shores for about a month now but nothing of this magnitude. New York tended to be a bit more of an accepting melting pot, but recently the tension that was floating from Europe had bled into the city. Dumb asses were starting to take sides, random violence was on the rise per the department but the reports looked a lot like targeted violence to her. The city was a powder keg waiting for a spark. Eyes had been focusing on the small marks on the metal deck… claw marks by the looks of them. The magnification was over thirty times and Lance's voice was missed the first time. Huh? NPC:…I said our harbor master's pretty shook up. Not planning on coming over here any time soon. Best he remembers was two guys from the ship. Overweight middle aged Caucasian, maybe five foot eight or nine and a tall lanky Asian in his late twenties. He was used to repeating himself when she was studying a crime scene. The kind that can just blend in and vanish in this city. NPC: Pretty much… This shit hits the news…. NPC: I know…. can expect some protests…even possibly riots… yeah….. Sigh was soft in her chest. Between the virus crimes she had been investigating and the growing divisiveness with this damn earthborn purists movement… sleep was a luxury the force was starting to severely lack in. Hazel flicked to the four white vans coming up to the dock… coroners were here. Hip pushed from the railing to head down the plank to meet them. Best they had a bit of a warning before walking into this mess. She was worried the powder keg was already sitting next to a lit match.