Briza

Streetlight Dragonflies

The Fed Zone

10:59 am, Saturday
November 6th
_@Zoro

D.

As Mr. Hotshot rattled off specs of Google Glasses that the every-day layman already knew, D's hand shifted in her pocket out of impatient annoyance, and her body leaned, by resting her weight on one leg, trying to act somewhat entertained by the man's words. However, the teenager only semi-succeeded with her act through the expression on her face, "In fact," Mr. Hotshot smiled cooly to her. D motioned her case more closely to herself. His dismissive attitude was strangely alarming, and she was beginning to suspect that it could potentially be this attitude that was causing the insipid reactions from the others, "I used it just now to record that pleasant conversation." It might not actually have been that he was a suspicious character at all.

Scratching him off the list, D thought to herself while trying to recollect something cheeky to say in response, like one of her automatic quips that she generally recited to the police or other untrained investigators when they started lecturing her about their insight to an incident that occurred due to paranormal tragedy. They would act like she knew nothing when they probably knew even less than she did. However, there were times when they did actually know more than her. It was always a gamble built with boring conversations with pick-pocketed information that had to be pieced together properly. Unfortunately, her father was not here to help her on this one. She was still a little agitated over it, but she would complain about that in more detail to herself at a later and more appropriate time -- she figured. Besides, this was a slightly different incident even if it felt predominately the same.

Before D could say anything, the conversation was interrupted by a fairly homely looking woman. Her bust looked like it would give a thousand people a hug and still not be satisfied. Even her scolding words had a sense of warmth about them. She also had a cool t-shirt. D decided that she liked her much more than Mr. Hotshot, even if his Google Glasses were kind of cooler than the I BELIEVE IN HUMANS t-shirt. D's jaw dropped slightly, at the woman's change in vocals. At first it was a whisper with enough presence to hush a room, (because by golly, it got D's attention away from the way the printed letters fit around her bust) and then it was a demand for calling 9-1-1 and someone by the title: Sheriff Chang. Why am I not wearing my goggles? Her hand wipped out of her pocket and slid across the screen. She only caught a brief video of the girl darting before sliding her cellphone into her pocket. She was not about to call the SHeriff. Her patience was thin after talking to Mr. Hotshot. Besides, she had a real clue who just ran into the restroom.

The spilled milkshake said nothing to D, at first. She had messes on her all the time, but the extremely tall man that had picked up Maddie Wilson's dropped picture and started walking after her and towards the bathroom. Her father was a large man, but this man was very tall -- the kind of tall that might look a little awkward when walking under an eight foot tall door frame if he didn't poise himself correctly. She was not bothered with him for only but a split a second, as she chose whether or not to follow the little girl. The tall man seemed decently athletic enough to stop a small girl from leaving the area if need be; and Maddie Wilson will probably be more comfortable with I BELIEVE IN HUMANS approaching her than some stranger.

D leaned over, close to Mr. Hotshot's shoes and picked up the milkshake cup, "You don't happen to also have the Sheriff on call?" More importantly, though, D was wondering how she got a milkshake without being noticed. Her eyes scanned behind the counter at the milkshake machine and then back to the restrooms. She had no recollection of Maddie Wilson having been inside the restaurant, which she thought was strange. The girl was wearing a Wonder Woman scar! Aubrey and her loved Wonder Woman -- Aubrey more so than D, but the feeling of loss to detail was personally prevalent.

What Are You Listening To?

Streetlight Dragonflies

The Fed Zone

10:55 am, Saturday
November 6th
_{@Rabidporcupine & @Zoro}

D.

"No miss, please. Don't encourage him. He looks like an idiot, and even though he's made his way firmly on to my shitlist, I'd just feel bad if I let him keep going with it."

D looked down at her case, then to the man at the counter and then back to the man with the Google Glasses, now realizing that she had most definitely interrupted a conversation that did not desire interruption. She took a small step backwards, trying to find the caution sign in their body language as she flexed her wrist to pull her case slight away, as well.

"Hey, kid. Chill. Out. I never said any of them weren't worth looking for, it's just standard design and advertising principles that you simplify things. But since you obviously care so much more about this than me, maybe you should be on the missing persons poster committee. Meeting starts at 2 pm, in the Oak Conference Room at town hall." Mr. Hotshot paused for a bit, looking her up and down before continuing, "I got them on eBay," Mr. Hotshot spoke without making any inclination that there was negative commentary was being slung at him. It was admirable. "Google stopped making them and they're a bit obsolete, but they have their uses. I hear they'll be relaunching Glass sometime soon though, might want to wait until the new version comes out. Or try a different brand."

"Oh yeah?" D pushed her spare hand into her pocket. Her fingers fiddled with her mobile, deciding whether to pull it out or not. She decided against it and let her hand rest, hidden for a bit. She narrowed her eyes as she did this, inspecting his glasses and then his face, "What do you use yours for?" She quickly turned her attention to Jeremy. He seemed pretty annoyed and maybe even offended, which means he probably meant he didn't know anything too terribly important about what was happening in the town. Although, she'd keep him as a local to use if no one else made themselves available. D shrugged her shoulders at him and gave the hotshot her full attention, again. The manager would be coming soon, and she wanted a little bit more information from this guy before resuming her way. She was getting hungry, after all, but she would be keeping an eye on him.

RIVER GOBLIN'S AVATARS AND CHARACTER ART SHOP

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Briza likes @Mokley.

Streetlight Dragonflies

The Fed Zone

10:51 am, Saturday
November 6th
_{@Rabidporcupine & @Zoro}

D.

Duskwick had some old antique charm to it that made D feel more like a paranormal investigator from an Hollywood Production, which made her feel like some star to an unknown B-movie plot. The town was odd but fashionable, and the motel room had that little small town spark to it. She had even taken and sent a picture of the motel front to her father (who replied, Take care D and don't do anything stupid) and her best friend Aubrey (to which she had not received any sort of response, aside from a message read tag underneath her text) last night. She had wanted more positive responses, but nonetheless, the whole town was still fascinating and kind of cute to her. In fact, although she had packed some nonperishable food items for the stay, she found herself curiously wandering the place and into The Fed, which had that spooky-cliche appearance like the rest of the town.

Her body pushed opened the door, and lugged her large case with her, wheeling it like a nice, loyal pet. The contents were something like her laser gun, x-ray goggles, video camera,voice recorder, flashlight, wipes, and a notebook with a pen. The largeness was mostly to give her laser gun some extra stretching room. The bad boy was getting old, and she wanted to make sure he had a good leg each time she used him. She continued her way inside, looking around, the tile on the floor, the light fixtures, the ordering line, and — the billboard. Her eyes glanced at her case. A half-smile settled on her face with a small nod to no one, "Clues," she whispered to herself, a non-audience. Her boots took several steps forward, quickly gliding both D and her case over, towards the Missing Signs.

D stopped in front of the billboard and gently let her luggage stand still without her guiding hand. Her half-smile faded into a small smirk as she leaned closely, inspecting each letter with wonderment. She squinted her eyes as she stared at the advertisements and signs and quietly mouthed the words that she was reading:

The Fed Bulletin Board

Make contact with passed loved ones, professional and discreet: 846-5317

UFO sighting party, Mill Creek Park, Nov 6, 10 pm -- free to attend

Protection charms, crafted and enchanted by the Green Sisters' Coven, available now at Ivy Arts on Brightwell

Town Hall meeting, Nov 8, 6 pm: Duskwick Sheriff Chang will give an update on ongoing missing persons investigations

Pulling her index finger and her thumb to her chin, she pressed her lips against each other and let out a deferential sigh, "This is so fucking cool." Her hand left her chin and slid into the pocket of her beige jersey pants and pulled out her mobile to snatch a picture of the news updates. D paused in thought, noticing that Aubrey still had not responded to her message. Midterms were about to happen for Aubrey, but D was rarely ever aware of academic schedules, having been a solid C student for most of her school career. "Say, 'Cheese,'" D winked her right eye and motioned her hand for an invisible aperture adjustment, as to allude some pretend manual-focus of a make-believe digital camera with all the cool specs. After several seconds of this charade, a picture was captured, "Looking good, Pollyanna" her eyes admired the beauty of the maladjusted contrast on the wording and nodded to herself.

D raised her mobile, again, and this time, with better focus and steadier hands, she began taking pictures of the missing person fliers. When she was finished, she tucked the device back into her pocket and looked around the restaurant. she tilted sideways and grasped the handle of her brown case, once again, pondering if she should seat herself. D noticed several different casts of characters. One not-so-in-particularly was a man with a laptop and several missing posters at his fingertips. He looked pretty well nestled into his position. D watched him for a small bit and then noted other people who appeared to have similar interests. It was as if she was right at home, I wonder if any of them work for The Agency. A small frown set on her face. It would be like them to send several investigators and not give any of them each other's contact information.

While she thought about where to sit, she realized there was a line and automatically, in a mechanical manner turned herself towards the line, gently pressing her interests into the commotion she had wavered in acknowledging upon entering the joint, catching the tail end of a some guy's small lecture about happiness and sadness or emotions. He was wearing Google Glasses, which made D feel a little envious, but then she remembered that her goggles had their own special functions that outweighed the pros of Google Glasses:

"—it's a solid wall of missing person fliers, well, then people more or less ignore it all together or even when they do look at it there's too many faces and names to remember and they end up remembering nothing. It also sets the mood to be depressed, something I think this town doesn't need any more of right now."

D raised a brow,"Those are a pretty slick pair of Google Glasses there, Mr. Hotshot" she interrupted their pseudo-conversation and inched herself and her case closer to him, "You've got to tell me how you got 'em." She looked up at him, pondering how to properly ask if he could get her a pair. He had to be out of his mind or an extremely suspicious character if he wanted everyone to forget about the paranormal activity. She was not sure which hypothesis she preferred. If he was out of his mind stupid, then she could land herself a pair of Google Glasses, but if he was part of the problem, then she could have herself a decent lead.

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What Are You Listening To?

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