Raeden (Rae) Seiko

Government/Law
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18 Gaining Recognition

About Raeden (Rae) Seiko

  • Rank
    Fresh Faced

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 take an 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. Stench putrefied the air as she walked over the carcasses stacked thick in the cargo hull. Unlike her partner who had been forced to scramble back outside for some fresh air, she was blessed with senses that could pick and choose their focus. At the moment her sense of smell was turned off as much as she possibly could, letting her eyes focus where the large flashlight highlighted and studying the scene. Even so, the smell was stomach turning. The Anda was a small cargo ship, the windowless belly of it meant for metal cargo containers not the decimated human cargo she now picked her way over. She was up to forty bodies and the count was still rising. A week ago the harbor master had been asked to let the small cargo vessel dock a couple days while they got resupplied. The captain had paid cash and then never came back. When the harbor master decided to step on board this morning he was struck by the scent of death and instantly knew he had a problem. Which was why she was here, the basic blues that had come to investigate couldn’t handle the extreme nature of the loss of life. It was a pit, a black hole of stagnant air. The door had been padlocked shut from the outside leaving the victims trapped with little air and no food or water. From the decay she suspected they hadn't made the trip across the ocean, dying miserably somewhere along the way. Some were stacked against the far wall, likely by those that were still alive and trying not to wallow in rotting flesh. Death had come in waves. She pitied the souls that had been the last to go. They had been refugees.. she was sure of it. Skeletal remains of horns, wings, even tails peppered the more human looking dead. If she had to bet, they were all outworlders who had latched onto some swindlers promise to get out of Europe. It wasn’t the first signs that the registration violence was making its way to their shores. Boots carefully picked her way back to the single steel door, trotting up the stairs to the rusty deck to take a deep breath of fresher air, nostrils starving for something other than the oppression of death. Npc:…I've never seen anything like it Lance's voice quaked as her cool expression flicked to him. She didn’t rattle. Its what made her so good at her job. There is likely more but I got a count of fifty nine…. they are stacked at the back so hard to get a full count till we start pulling them out. Eyes flicked to the harbor master, poor guy was pacing along the dock unwilling to come close to the vessel. I suspect all outworlders… likely promised a better life here… "immigrants" coming to the "new world"…. probably paid a small fortune to end up in a metal coffin. Npc: Fuck…. Ya….that about sums it up. Going to need his full statement.. don't trust the blues to get this one right. Npc:.... sure... am on it He pulled out his notepad and trotted down the plank to the dock below, thankful to be off the floating cemetery.
  2. The glance that came her way was far from amused. That was fine, she wasn’t there to amuse anyone. Pink billowed from her lips as she blew another bubble while he snorted at her and finished his muffin. Seemed he wasn’t going to make chase after tweedle dee and tweedle dum. “They keep harassing people, maybe they need to be taught more than just a lesson. You're a cop, right? Protect and serve.” Frown dipped her brows faintly as the bubble was sucked back in with a snap. Eyes rolled after the guy started down the alley. Right….teach harassing kids a lesson…. that’s a good use of my time…. Mutter was half under her breath as she hopped off the bench and stuck her left hand in her jean pocket, right absently gesturing in the air as she talked to herself walking back to her jeep. Several on the street watching the woman as if she were crazy. She didn’t give a crap what they thought. Cops flipping out and leaving the force… lycans on the rampage…. outworlder homicides… someone fucking with the viruses….and I am supposed to spend my time teaching idiot teens a lesson about manners….. Truth was she had been following to ensure there wasn’t a homicide… it had nothing to do with the stupid teens. Thankless job… but she was used to that. She didn’t do it for the thanks. As she crossed the street the head fell forward halfway there as a chuckle murmured in her chest, head shaking. Hands stuffed into her jeans she lifted a foot once she was there to push on the tire with the large bowie knife stuck in the side of its wall. Well that’s just perfect. This wasn’t her first busted tire. Cop car parked anywhere was in danger of being vandalized these days. Reaching down she yanked the handle from the rubber, another souvenir to add to her collection. Hand began spinning the lock on the spare that hung off the back of her jeep, pulling the heavy wheel from its perch to bounce once on the ground before she rested it against her bumper. Code was entered on the panel of the metal storage box on the back of the jeep, lock popping as she flipped the heavy lid open and tossed the knife inside with her litany of weapons before grabbing the jack out. This was her last spare too... she was going to have to go scavenging in Jersey again to find a few more of the big wheels to keep on hand. Fuck Mondays......
  3. “We keep a few fer ahmergincies, but Shield don’t usually need tem inside te city. Tere was no reason to believe there were any hostiles in the call but ahm sure…” Fuck…..fuck fuck fuck…… Didn’t sound like they would have enough which meant she was going to have to make her own blues give up some of theirs. Stuff was NOT exactly growing on trees. On the other hand she was not about to be accused of having left ARMA to die a potentially horrible death. “Two of each anti-viral in te truck. None like that. Rarely ever need ‘em, we’re just supportin’ Knights most o’ te time. We’re real good at not getting bit, ah wouldn’t worry ‘bout it too much. Ah jus’ need t’ know what’s gon’ come out.” She glanced at him, clearly reading the concern in his expression as he glanced to the horizon and his men. He didn’t understand the request… she needed to explain. Fingers slid the syringe with the red band around the middle from under the elastic that kept it secure in the box. Not "each"…..all of them…. Her squad all took the multi once a quarter. It was to help them work through the devastating effect of the triple dose poison, to build themselves up so they didn’t pass out taking it. It was their "apocalypse" syringe… the one you took when you had no clue what you had been exposed to or if you knew you had been exposed to more than one virus. It sucked balls to take it. One anti-viral made the "victim" feel like they had a nasty flu…. taking all three anti-virals at once had put a few of her men into a mild coma. ….and not coming out….. already here…… Amber eyes glanced at the war zone that had been the lab. We don’t know all the details but I have an insider at the damn CDC who likes to keep their secrets. Few months back there was an outbreak at NY Hospital. Sleeve was already being rolled up. It was nearly a city-wide catastrophe. There was a patient X who was carrying a bastardized version of a virus, something that was clearly messed with chemically, not by nature. Fist flexed several times to help swell her veins to the surface. The amber meeting his. Someone is experimenting with it and made the virus airborne. It only survived short term in the air but it was a whole new danger that CDC tried to ensure didn’t go public. Chin gestured to the charred debris. That was a lab… and based on the fragments I was able to glean they were experimenting on the damn viruses. Everyone that came on premises might already be infected. Everyone was going to be pissed as hell that she was sharing…. But this shit was not to be kept from any who had the slightest chance of being exposed and at least on the surface were looking out for public best interest. Everyone needs to take all three anti-virals because I cant tell which they were working on. My guys have a multi-anti…. we should have some spares but I need to know quick how many you are going to need. With that the needle was already sinking in her skin, hand expanding as she pushed the plunger, skin around the site instantly speckling red with what had the appearance of a nasty rash. This day went south quick.....
  4. This was just wonderful. Bloody apocalypse was coming for the world once more, only this time it was someone beckoning it, not a natural fallout of the Nevus event. What the fuck kind of sociopath even thought of this sort of warped plan? He was coming over but she remained with her back to him, lid of the metal box propped open as she pushed the rifle to the back and pulled out a long black case only two inches high. As he came up on her right shoulder, chin turned slightly towards him, amber eyes scanning over the ARMA members in the distance and her own men, now all quietly in their vehicles with the doors open, busy with their glove compartments. She was very cognizant that a panic was easily set off if she showed it herself. Truth was, she didn’t panic, or get flustered. Her Barracuda nickname was earned for many reasons and that cool demeanor had more than once kept a skittish squad from doing something foolish in their fear. Careful to keep her back to his men and her words quiet she addressed the presence at her shoulder. Luck….. your men carry anti-virals? Not all of the blue precincts did, it was something she had installed as standard fare. They had their badge, their gun and their anti-virals on them at all times. It was a mandate. She didn’t know if ARMA had similar protocols. As in can take them immediately?... not "when they get back to headquarters"…… There was something ominous in the inquiry. All three viruses transferred via fluids therefore the thought that an entire squad needed to take the anti-virals without so much as having gotten a scratch had earth-shattering implications. The case was flipped open, inside, all in a row, were fifteen filled syringes. Two had red tape around their middles. Clearly…. it wasn’t an idle question she posed.
  5. White film billowed from between pursed lips as well massaged gum began to swell with air before lips parted and sucked it back in. Brow quirked at a thuggy looking owner that came out of the cigar shop beside her perch, marching up to her, chest filling with air to go on a tirade that got choked back as her hand slid away from her hip to glint at him her badge and gun. Dumbass. Even if she wasn’t a cop, she was perched on a bench that wasn’t even in front of his shop window. In other words, no reason to go picking a fight with her. He pivoted and headed back into the shop with a huff, the scent of hundreds of cigars tickling her nostrils causing the bridge to wrinkle in annoyance as she went back to listening to the exchange in the alley. Kids were really just as stupid as she had first assessed as they taunted a big silent guy that had followed them in the first place. Entirely no sense of self preservation. Head leaned against the brick as she listened to the attempt to scuffle with the man… it didn’t go in their favor as nostrils again picked up the scent of fire. "Stop. Annoying. Women." Smirk slid her lips as gum moved to the other side of her mouth, arms perching on raised knees as she leaned forward. Kid tried again to be a big shot but the thicker scent of fire only set feet to pavement quickly. Not so brace now were they. They got off light…… damn light…. considering how bad the streets were these days. Brow quirked as they both blew by her with all the swagger of a lizard being hunted by a hawk. Actually, that was a slight on the lizard. "I wasn't going to kill them. Should have bloodied a nose or two though." Shrug came with a faint nod of her head as she watched the pair of nitwits round the corner and vanish from sight, smirk on her lips before the head shook slightly. Yup…probably should have. Ya... not a typical cop reaction but..eh...
  6. Details of what she had studied still tumbled in her mind. A few markings felt familiar and it itched like a bad mosquito bite that she couldn’t place them. As Lance took the last notes on the number placards she had placed around the scene she turned and crouched to review a few items a seocnd time as the sensation of familiarity refused to dissipate. Head turned as the partially burned letters was found again, rotating it in her vision until finally she had singular clarity. NY City Hospital. Phone was slid from her pocket and an insider was called, standing she turned away from even Lance to ensure the conversation was kept private. A bit of a heated discussion at the beginning when she insisted on answers soon became a somber silence from the detective as she nodded a few times before murmuring a thanks. Phone snapped shut, eyes a bit wide as she tried to register the danger. Scowl replaced the surprise quickly before spinning around on her heel. Out of the debris zone. She didn’t yell, but the sharp percussion of her words had all the cop's eyes on her in a second, their obedient movement instant. Clearly she carried a respected authority as none questioned her, picking their way out of the debris ring, though several had puzzled expressions as they retreated. Her phone was snapping open once more, the speed dial already ringing as she stepped over a twisted beam of steel. Judy…. need the full 10th out here, putting the area under quarantine. …… yes… you heard right. Also call the CDC….. Her eyes nearly rolled at it. They were a pain in the ass, no respect for any authority. But they were also far the better equipped to handle a potential outbreak. Several worried eyes were on her. They had heard "CDC" and they knew she would only make that call if things were extreme. She needed to control the panic. Quit gawkin' and get to your med kits…. everyone take their multi. Thick swallows were fighting down panic as the men looked at eachother. Every cop had a medkit and in it was a syringe of each antiviral and then one "apocalypse" syringe. A nasty blend of all anti-virals. It was only to be used in extreme cases when one didn’t know what they had been exposed to because the resulting side effects could make a person violently ill. Lance's had quickly made his way to her side, his voice was low, trying hard to keep it from trembling. npc: "What the hell is going on Rae….. what happened here??" Might be airborne…. The mutter under her breath made his breath stop. Several months ago there had been a disaster at the NY Hospital. Information had been sketchy but there were rumors regarding a patient "X" and an airborne mutation of the z-virus. CDC had worked hard to quell the rumors but their efforts fell a bit short with the local law enforcement. Too much secrecy had surrounded the clean up. That had been her call, to an insider at the hospital. As her guys were quickly and quietly obeying orders she glanced at the ARMA at the outer perimeter. Exotic eyes sought the designated ARMA rep, spotting him in animated conversation with another. Luck.. Her voice cut across the distance without yelling as she turned away from the pair and moved to her jeep, the key pad at the back unlocking the heavy duty metal lock box that held her arsenal. He clearly expected him to follow alone for a private conversation. No matter what she felt about working with ARMA….they needed to know.
  7. She was turning away even as he offered his thumbs up. It was an olive branch. Either he accepted it or didn’t but this way she couldn’t be accused of keeping ARMA out. Focus returned to the crime scene, pupils swelling before contracting once more, the world focusing closer as she began to comb once more over the debris. Before she let go of her sense of hearing completely she heard the war dog move away from the scene. It was better this way, she could assess freely while ARMA played security guards and kept the public out. Was a lab. Her quiet words caught Lance a bit off guard as he stopped taking notes and looked at the debris trying to see what it was that told her so. She was never wrong so it wasn’t that he didn’t believe her, it was just he never could figure out what she gleaned that no one else seemed to. npc: What kind of lab? Her head shook as she crouched in the middle of the blast zone. That she didn’t know yet. She didn’t like the fact that decayed and burned zombie flesh had caught her sensitive nose earlier. There had been stories coming out of the west and south of Pennsylvania about experiments being conducted on the Z-virus. The sketchy details that she had come across definitely didn’t imply that the experiments were looking for cure. Just what the fuck was going on and why had it suddenly reached up into New York? Vision had zoomed in several times, the world around her fading away as dark hair slid off her shoulder, head tilting to make sense of the flecks of glass that were scattered on the floor. Mind was faster than a crime lab as the fragments were memorized, then floated in the back of her conscious thought, joining together to take their original shape. Test tubes. She had been right, this had definitely been a lab. Again and again the mind puzzled back the charred remains into their original shapes. The more progress she made the more concerned she became. It was nearly two hours before she pushed her hands on her knees and left the crouch, senses finally coming back to her as she released the magnified vision. Lance had taken to leaning against a fragment of a wall some time ago. He was used to her going silent and studying. Neck stretched as she shook her head and picked over the debris towards him. They were experimenting on the Z-virus and from the fragments of research I can piece together that wasn’t burned… looks like they were trying to make the virus stronger. npc : Fuck….why would anyone do that? Head shook. It made no sense. Not for anything good. That’s for certain.
  8. A feral…. At least that was what she would have thought had her sense of smell not already eliminated the option. She still went with fire mage or elemental due to the scent of burn in the air around him in the coffee shop. But now the way he moved; so fluid and calculated; vanishing within a crowd. She added to her assessment; trained, skilled and likely dangerous. The average Joe couldn’t become invisible like that, hell most cops couldn’t come close. Dark amber watched the pause and the way her words were left distinctly answered as he turned and tossed a casual glance in her direction. Hand on her hip, a brow lifted at his assessment, herself not making a move either. She wasn’t trying to start shit, but seemed she was always walking into it. Nostrils flared as heat again spilled off his skin. Well that could really make her day suck. Pick a fight with fireboy or walk away. Decisions…decisions. As he paused to assess muffins, she paused to lean against the street light pole, right foot hooking around the left ankle as arms lightly crossed her chest. Thick lashes dipped as she watched the entire exchange, the man's last look to the two was an outright dare. Kids were going to be toast. Stupidity set in around thirteen for boys and seemed to linger well into their twenties. These two were right in the middle of their stupidity years as evidenced by their steps following the man into an alley she knew would seclude them. She could walk away. Then again, she was still a cop. As the two disappeared around the corner, she stopped at the bench that sat along the front sidewalk. Foot climbed on the seat, hips perching on the back rail as her back pressed to the brick wall. Sensitive ears focused around the corner as she settled in. These days jail never seemed to scare anyone straight. Maybe this would. Problem was, she wasn’t sure he was looking to scare them or peel their flesh from their bones. Hand slid into her front pocket to retrieve the pack of gum, a stick unwrapped and folded between her teeth as she settled in and simply listened. She was still a cop.
  9. Deluc didn’t argue, he just executed as she left him with orders to get off her damn crime scene and back up their perimeter. She had been right. A war dog. A soldier. He could take an order. Dumbass in front of her was another story. As the idiot drove everything south quickly, the soldier again was the voice of reason on premises. Interesting. She kept Forrest in pain and off kilter as the soldier reminded his own about jurisdictions. He was partially right. Recently there had been a spat of "weird" events that the police had perhaps not bothered to tell ARMA about. She suspected ARMA had come across a few themselves that they didn’t share with the "blues" either. Too much secrecy and mistrust. She had been on all the cases because the average flat-foot had no damn idea what to make of the things they were finding. Some odd 'roid rage type killings, some odd infected deaths, some meth labs that under her closer inspection were only cover ups for a different form of lab. There was an evil undercurrent beginning to percolate in the city and the time would come that they would need all hands on deck. Another reason it was important for her to "play nice" with ARMA. As "soldiers" turned into sheepish children under the man's tongue lashing her own blues relaxed and went back to tagging the crime scene. The shitshow was over. Except for numb-nut still gasping in pain under her grip. She was most certainly arresting this idiot. " Ah’ll act as friendly witness an’ sign whatever papers are required t’ process Operative Fuckup down ‘ere.” Dark amber flicked to him offering a nod as she released the hand she seemed to barely hold and yet the much larger man had been unable to free himself from her grip. The reaction with his own soldier drew a brow up from the detective as the punch was rapidly followed by a headbutt. Talk about a dysfunctional family. ”Add assault an’ battery t’ a private citizen t’ te list. Apologies for te fuck up, I ken assure yah tat it will be taken care of, severely.” Clearly there was no love lost here. Milo…. The blue that turned was a brick house. He had played for Alabama State as offensive tackle before the Nevus event, 6'6" and easily 300. Forrest looked as though he just shit his pants as the blue came over. "yea Seiko?" Escort our "friend" to a squad car and back to precinct. Book him on impeding an investigation, destruction of evidence and assaulting an officer and a civilian. Eventually someone will come vouch for him I am sure. It was a clear indication that she didn’t expect Deluc to follow at this time. She was content to leave Forrest in a cell with some jacked up street thugs for a while. Milo grabbed Forrest by the arm and half lifted him off the ground as he "walked" him to a squad car and off her scene. She had lost her focus on the scene and that left her annoyed. Turning she nodded slightly to Lance who seemed amused by the entire thing, grinning and clearing his throat as he went back to scribbling in his notepad. The authoritative voice added over her shoulder as she moved back into the midst of her crime scene. 'ey…. Luck…. You can stay on site to represent ARMA. She was offering an olive branch. She was never really looking to pick a fight with ARMA. Truth be told, the group as a hole had done a lot of good in the city. But too often they had a bad apple and that apple seemed to always be the one confronting the cops. Offering it to him and not one of the "Knights" was strategic too. He was a war dog, a soldier. He knew hierarchy and could take an order. Meant he could represent ARMA and not get in her damn way either.
  10. She had yet to so much as stiffen a muscle as cool eyes appraised the Knight with a veiled challenge, daring him to push her buttons. The faint twitch at the corner of his eyes told her she could eat him alive. He was all bark and no bite. ”It seems yer reputation precedes yah, Detective Psycho.” Lance made an aggressive step towards the man that was halted by a simple clearing of her throat. Amber eyes were on him only as long as needed. It wasn’t the first time her name had been twisted that way, though usually it was done with far more venom. Either it was a true mispronunciation or it was to knock the Knight off his proverbial horse. She didn’t miss Forrest glaring at the Shield rep as though he was insane. ”Te guy tah my right wit’ glue in his hair is Operative Forrest.” He was knocking the Knight. Interesting. Seemed there was a distinct lack of respect between them. The second one was a war dog, that much was very evident in the cool demeanor, focus of his gaze, backward tempered stance and bristle at the nitwit in front of her who still seemed to think he was going to take charge. DeLuc. She made a mental note of the name even as she appeared completely disinterested. They were interrupting her analysis of the site "…… especially because you’re going to send us a report on it if anything could present a threat to the city I’m sure." …I'm sure. Words slid with complete indifference from her lips, impossible to tell if she was telling them to piss off or agreeing to the task. "If tere are no inside threats, Ah’ll go ahead and set my team to make a secondary perimeter facing outwards while Forrest does… the Knight thing I guess. If tere are threats inside the perimeter, first I’d question te positioning of yer men and second I’d need whar and what." Cool gaze fixed on DeLuc more completely for the first time. He was abrasive but level headed for a war dog. A quality she could appreciate in a "soldier". The chilled amber flicked a last time at Forrest, she could almost see the cartoon steam curling out of his ears as he seethed. Pupils narrowed as she dismissed the man completely by addressing the soldier. No inside threat. Pull back to a second perimeter outside the debris zone and ensure we don’t have scavengers. Turning back to Lance she tossed over her shoulder. And take tweedle dee and his troupe with you and off my crime scene. Lance had handed her the notepad to review. She had pushed Forrest's buttons on purpose. That sort of pompous arrogance was dangerous. It made people sloppy and unaware of real dangers. It also led to teams that were loyal to a rank only and not the person themselves. His reaction only proved it, as the camel's back had been broken. The large hand had snatched her upper arm with a grip that would leave a bruise as the spikeytop idiot sputtered at her. The detective didn’t even flinch as the eyes lifted slowly to Lance who actually took a step backwards to give her space. She had laid cops out for far less. Lips breathed with an ice that could run blood cold. Sergeant Haney, please escort Operative Forrest to one of our black and white "taxis" and take the time to read him his rights before you fill out the paperwork for obstruction of a criminal investigation, destruction of evidence and assaulting an officer. The slow grin that slipped over Lance's lips was devilishly amused. This wasn’t the first time he had witnessed the power struggle between her and ARMA. There was always a definitive winner. Like hell…. Forrest didn’t get the words out, her right hand came up and grabbed his hand on her arm, the thumb pressing into pressure point and instantly the grip went weak as she turned slowly, hand twisting his as she did, driving him back and off balance as he tried to avoid the pain. Guns had come out from his little landing party, triggering guns to come out of blue holsters. From here it could go bad quickly, but the detective remained expressionless and indifferent as she faced the Operative. I will remind you that you are in my district, you have no jurisdiction here and you are not above the law. Chin lifted ever so slightly and the blues holstered their weapons. While she was happy to tear the guy a new one, she also knew that politics of power said she needed to play nice with ARMA. She would love to get the arrogant little prick in the boxing ring and teach him how much he didn’t know. As it was……. Hand released his, gasp from his lips as he yanked it back into his own space. Hands on her hips she waited for him to say something stupid, fortunately for him he seemed to have grown enough sense to keep quiet. Hard or easy… I can deal with you either way.
  11. She didn’t hold the same depth of "dislike" for ARMA that Lance shared with many of the Blue, but she wouldn’t exactly say she was ever overjoyed to work with them either. They had a platform of "for the people", a motto the city used to hear a lot from Greene. But lately the ARMA had not been doing the whole PR tour. Perhaps too busy for it…. or perhaps… something had changed in their motto. Either way their public schmoozing was definitely lacking these days. She watched them exit their vehicles in their flashy armor, stark contrast to the detective and her simple black slacks, light blue button up with the kevlar vest strapped tight overtop. The glock tucked in the back of her waistband over the kevlar seemed a poor junior to their artillery. But it wasn’t the size of the gun… but how one used it. She wasn’t intimidated. As what appeared to be the head of the Knight division approached her she was struck by his immediate askance for the Zombie evidence. How the hell did he know about…..amber eyes narrowed slightly as a tour of the Blues in this district was taken. This district had an ARMA snitch in it. She knew she had breathed the reference out loud but had never expected someone to turn around and call the Order offshoot. Interesting. She would have a talk with their chief when she was done here. They were after one thing, answers to the "zombie" association, which explained the complete disregard for the extended crime scene as they parked their rides on top of part of the blow out of the Maritime. Damn amateurs. Fortunately for them she had already inspected the area, but that didn’t mean they would be saved from the short end of her barracuda nature, even Lance took a step back to stay out of the line of fire as she turned to face the arrogant dick. Nothing about her stance spoke of diminutive, for her petite stature she could be a massive presence. Hotshot, destroy another piece of evidence on my crime scene and I will have you arrested for obstruction of a criminal investigation. It wasn’t an idle threat either. She was known in some of the upper circles of ARMA for an altercation that ended in two Knights being arrested and ARMA having to make a public apology for the idiots complete disregard of protocol. And not just ARMA, she had locked up an Order rep once for attempting to remove evidence from her crime scene. More was on her lips but sensitive ears had been listening to the second wave of ARMA that were coming, demanding to meet the "supervisor", the Blue quickly pointing her out to avoid direct confrontation with the band of "brothers". Coward. The self appointed mouth piece was blustering at her "threat" when what appeared to be the head of the joining party let himself be heard over the stammering bluster in front of her. "Shield Division 'ere tah provide most likely unneeded protection an' fuck up yer crime scene the usual amount. Y'all know the drill by now I'm sure." This was just getting better and better. The chilled gaze slid away from spikeytop to the newcomer trying to read if he was being a pissant to her Blues or mocking his own. Oddly enough, he seemed to be telling off Mr Spikeytop who hadn't even bothered to introduce himself yet. Ya. I know the drill and by now ARMA should know stepping on my toes leads to public back-peddling. Spikeytop was about to open his mouth and likely tell her off when she politely made the first introduction. Detective Seiko. Special crimes and homicide. She watched his lips clamp shut. Clearly her name was shared within ARMA. Good.
  12. March 15, 2020 - 4pm The Battery Maritime Building was not exactly in her district but not all districts had detectives of her caliber so she was often called in for the extreme and unusual cases. The old ferry station was supposed to have been abandoned since even before the Nevus; but there was clear evidence it had been in use for a number of months at the very least. Feet stepped over broken glass and charred metal as she picked her way past the milling Blues who had been first on the scene to the gaping hole in the side of the structure. The explosion had blown out windows as far north as the National Archives on State Street, sending people in a stampede of panic away from the ferry docks. The moment she entered a scent had overwhelmed her senses, a delicate odor among the stronger chemicals, likely missed by the others. Zombies…. The questioning mutter was half under her breath as she began to focus on the crime scene but nearby someone had taken notice, a phone had flicked open and the man trotted out to make a call. Time slipped away from her. Crouched among the warped twists of anguished metal, her head tilted as optics zoomed in on fragments she had been slowly tagging with small plastic evidence numbers. The world around her was going silent as she began to zoom deeper into the charred remnants of the Battery's interior. She ignored the speculative theories that were rumbling through the lower districts police core. The evidence did not speak of drug gangs accidently blowing themselves up while making heroin. It was a weak theory at best. No. She had smelled instantly there were no drugs in the air, at least not the kind the cops here were muttering about. She smelled chemicals for a carefully crafted explosive. The destruction of the Battery was no accident. Someone was hiding what was happening here and from what she had pieced together thus far, what was going on was something far more sinister than some drug trafficking. Head tilted slightly as she zoomed further, now inspecting the other side of the Battery from over eighty feet away, the remnants of charred paper holding fragments of scribbled writing. Journals of some kind. She would need to be sure those got collected. Standing her optic zoom was released, the world suddenly coming into tune once more as the scattered snarky remarks around her heralded company. Glancing to Lance a brow lifted over the amber eyes. ARMA?... He nodded, the scowl expressing exactly how he felt about seeing the marked vehicles. Blues tended to have a love/hate relationship with the ARMA sect. Their manpower came in handy at times, the events of the Blood Moon had been a great example of that. But they also were not trusted much further than the Order of Light sect they had mutinied from. Wonder who tipped them off… Lance just shrugged, grunt of disapproval as he went back to writing down the numbers and items she had already tagged on the scene. They had jurisdiction here. ARMA needed to take a backseat.
  13. She hadnt missed his soft reaction to Rachel. Sweet on her? Perhaps. Not really the cop's concern. So long as he wasn’t a threat to her morning Barista she didn’t care where his affections lay. She wiped down the chair as he wiped down the floor, not missing the flashed gaze. The big guy didn’t approve of her disciplinary tactic. She didn’t have time to lecture a couple pubescent teens. Dropping in her chair she polished off the triple espresso and cracked off a large chunk of Rachel's cake as she listened to Rachel kid she should hire the guy. Strange. They must be on different hours. She knew the regulars that came in during her morning routine. Amber orbs followed him out, noting it was immediately in the direction of tweedle dee and tweedle dum. Shit. Sighing quietly she picked up her plate and cup to bring them up to the counter. He gonna do something stupid? Rachel bit her lip slightly, clearly unsure and worried for the man. Perhaps sweet on him back. Sigh came again from the cops lips. Don’t worry…. I got it. Hand slid around her waistband, tucking the gun properly in as she strode out of the door and moved in the direction of the teens as well. She should just let it go but honestly it was better than heading to the precinct and throwing a fit with the chief. Despite her fairly diminutive height, she could make long strides look effortless, eradicating distance quickly between herself and Rachel's "beau". One good thing was her jeep was this way anyway so she wasn’t really wasting time. The silver-eyed newspaper reader paused when the kids chatted up a girl opening the bakery down the street, she took the opportunity to pause behind him, still several car lengths behind him. Arms folded over her chest as the words came quiet. It aint worth it you know.
  14. As she waited for her espresso, nostrils picked up on more than brewing coffee and baked goods. Expression remained blank as she picked at the small cake in front of her, nostrils drawing in a deeper breath. Burning. Something was burning. Brows knit ever so slightly as she let her hearing and sight fall away to focus on the scent trail, expecting something was left too long in the oven in the kitchen. But the kitchen was not where she was led. Amber refocused, flicking across the café to the man hiding behind the newspaper and chicken scratching in its margins. She had taken note of him when she entered but now her nostrils studied him. No one else likely noticed, but to the petri dish of scents she lived in, he wreaked of fire and smoke. Firestarter…. or mage. Seemed harmless in his corner of the world. Fingers still picked at the cake by the time her triple espresso hit the table. Faint smile came as she thanked Rachel by name, cup drawn up to breathe deeply of the dark aroma. It helped clear her "pallet". Door flung open and a couple teens came in. The two males were typically loud and strutting their machismo in front of the barista. World had gone to hell in a hand basket but some things never changed. Rachel for her part, was unimpressed. Espresso was scalding hot, just how she liked it as the first sips seared down her throat while the punks idea of flirting was to toss gratuitous innuendos at her about hot cakes and dipping their sticks. Kids that didn’t get spanked enough in their youth. By the time they were leaving Rachel was flustered and near tears. She was a rarity in this day and age, an actual "sweet kid". As the two dicks approached the door with their mocha cappuccino whatsits, her foot casually slipped up to rest on the front of the seat across from her. Timing, distance, effort, aim…. these were specialties of hers. They were nearly there when muscles contracted and with complete casual indifference the chair flung out in front of the door, tripping both boys up violently, hot coffee spewing over both as they fought to catch themselves. As a diatribe of cursing spewed forward she simply sipped her triple espresso. It was hardly appropriate "cop" behavior, but she didn’t give a crap. They had it coming. As one scrambled off the floor, untangling a leg from the tipped over chair he didn’t get two steps towards her as she slid her right leg outside of the table, her badge flashing from where it was clipped on her waistband. Whatever he was about to say was cut short, his friend yanked to his feet as he half drug him out the door. Head shook as she stood to retrieve the chair, taking the towel from Rachel as the flustered girl came over to clean up the mess, wiping the chair off herself before sliding it back under the table. Ya ok Rachel? The girl half smiled and nodded in appreciation as she took back the towel and wiped off the door and floor in front of it. Rae slipped back into her seat to finish her coffee in peace, hoping the friendly fireboy in the corner wasn’t looking to start a fuss now too.
  15. March 2, 2020 - 6:15am What?...when?....I want……what do you mean he already said he wouldn’t talk to me? Judy did you…. What about the chief did he……ya… ya…. ok…..I get it. Phone snapped shut viciously before being jammed back into her front pocket. Doji bakayaro koshinuke sukebe saitei……… Back of her head hit the wall several times as the string of insulting expletives continued to mutter from her lips. It was the third cop from her district to jump ship to the Vanguard since the bloody moon events in November. Men she had always known to be good cops were suddenly bigoted "kill them all" fanboys. Pussy… Last insult breathed from her lips as she pushed from the wall. Having the dispatch girl tell her was the final insult of just how pathetic Joe had proved to be. There was a reason they didn’t want to talk to her when they made such stupid decisions. She wasn’t called the barracuda behind her back for no reason. Her words could slice a man and leave him cowering in the aftermath. And all this before her damn morning coffee. The door she had just been grabbing when the phone had rung and interrupted was grabbed once more, pulled open a bit roughly as she strode up to the counter to wait her turn still half muttering under her breath when Rachel asked a second time if she wanted the usual. Huh… ?.. oh sorry Rachel… ya… the usual… and one of those cinnamon walnut..things you keep trying to pawn off on me. The girl behind the counter lit up. She was a bit of a baker and so was always creating something new for the café. Unfortunately the detective wasn’t a breakfast person so she was usually disappointed every time she offered. Today just felt like a sit down and eat sort of day. It was going to be long and annoying; two things best dealt with on a full gut. The small coffee cake was pulled from the top of the glass case as she turned to park at the table in the front corner, taking the seat with her back to the wall. It was a cop thing. Picking at the little coffee cake concoction while she waited for her triple espresso, she had to admit, the thing wasn’t half bad. So…. big decision for the morning was did she go into the precinct and deal with this shit? Or just hit the pavement. She was strongly leaning towards the latter as the other method hadn't bought her any good will with the chief the last two times cops turned traitor on them. Fuck Mondays.

LISTINGS / AFFILIATES / RESONANCE BUTTON

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