Member
shallow grave
Ezekiel
Kaithe Dame
Snowdrops
Sep
World Traveler
EpicRoleplay
Abstract Proxy
rabidbacon
Festive@Red Wizard@CollectorOfMyst
A rhythmic clack-clack-clack echoed through the misty night air. Tonight Constable Olivia Jones was on Patrol. The sharp clacking of Olivia's standard-issued leather boots on cobblestones amplified the clarity and volume of each footfall. The syncopated clacks wove together into a persevering cadence, and Olivia couldn't help but smirk to herself. She knew the clacking lent an air of intimidation, announcing her presence and authority to any potential lurkers in the shadows.
She stood tall, her broad shoulders back and head held high underneath her rounded custodian helmet. A few stray wisps of her fiery red hair peeked out from under the helmet's brim. Her pale green eyes constantly roamed, missing nothing. Over her long-sleeved white blouse, she wore a black waistcoat decorated with shining silver buttons. Her long wool coat swirled around her calves, emphasizing her height. Around her shoulders was a black cape, making her outline even more formidable. A truncheon and set of handcuffs hung from her thick leather belt, well-worn from her six years of service.
Tonight the air eddied and swirled with even more mystical energies than usual. Olivia felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle as she walked through pockets of magic scattered throughout the streets. The atmosphere seemed saturated with unnatural thrumming power, like the gathering static before a thunderstorm. Olivia determined that this concentration of sorcery was due to the recent increase in bizarre and macabre crimes that had been plaguing the city as of late.
Headquarters was baffled by the gruesome violence and inexplicable thefts seemingly committed by otherworldly culprits. Even though Olivia had not been present during any of the calls to the recent crimes, she felt as though something sinister was stirring in Caldeon's underbelly. In contrast, butterflies fluttered in her stomach with excitement. She could only hope to play even the smallest part in unraveling these mysteries.
Olivia desperately wanted that shiny silver badge that marked her as a detective. Unfortunately, those appointments were limited as not many gave up those prestigious titles. Why did she want to join those ranks in that stuffy office so badly? To the skeptics, she supposed it looked like foolish ambition or vanity. But to Olivia, it was about purpose. She wanted to use her keen mind and unique gifts not just to patrol the streets but to uncover mysteries and seek justice. Being a detective meant having the authority to chase clues wherever they led rather than just responding to a scene. She dreamed of being the one to connect the dots, reveal the perpetrators, and help right wrongs. Not for the sake of prestige but to make the city safer. One day she would prove herself. She had to. The gleaming badge was more than just a rank to her - it was a key to unlocking her full potential and purpose.
Olivia tipped her hat politely to Mr. Abernathy as he swept the steps of his bakery. She often crossed paths with the kindly shopkeeper at this late hour. Seeing the constable on her rounds gave him a sense of comfort before bedding down for the night.
As she turned down a narrow alley, a drunken Orcish man stumbled out of a pub into her path. She wrinkled her nose at the overpowering ale stench.
"Evenin' Constable!" the man slurred. "Lovely night for a stroll, ain't it?"
"Move along, sir," Olivia directed, refusing to break her stride.
The man wavered for a moment before lurching back inside the pub doors. Olivia sighed - she'd have to keep an eye on that establishment.
Rounding a corner, Olivia heard a faint whimper. She followed the sound to a young girl crouched behind a stack of boxes, tears streaming down her dirt-smudged cheeks.
Olivia knelt so they were at eye level. "Why hello there, miss. Are you lost?" she asked gently.
The girl nodded, rubbing her runny nose with a grimy hand. Olivia offered her handkerchief. After a few soothing words, she was able to coax out the girl's address and personally escorted her safely home, a tiny hand clinging to two of Olivia's sturdy fingers.
It wasn't glamorous work, but moments like these reminded Olivia how much she loved serving the people of this city, even in a small way.
****
The first hints of dawn appeared as Olivia returned to the stone headquarters of the Caldeon constabulary. She nodded to the desk sergeant as she hung up her cape and truncheon. The echoing voices and clacking footsteps on the tile floors made it clear that the day shift officers were already mustering for their assignments.
Olivia's patrol boots clicked purposefully as she climbed the creaking wooden stairs to the detectives' offices on the second floor. Keeping her head high, she ignored the curious glances and hushed murmurs that followed her. A female constable was rare enough, but Olivia striding confidently through the detectives' domain was an anomaly.
She came to a halt outside a frosted glass door bearing the name: Inspector C. Halifax. She longed to be on the other side of that door, welcomed as a fellow investigator rather than eyed with unease in the hallway. Clearing her throat, she knocked firmly. A gruff voice bid her enter.
Inspector Halifax was poring over some documents at his desk. His gray mustache twitched with irritation at the interruption. "Yes, Constable Jones? I'm very busy."
Olivia stood at attention. "My evening report, sir," she said, handing over the detailed notes from her patrol. The inspector gave it a cursory glance before adding it to his mountain of paperwork. Dismissed by his silence, Olivia turned to exit. Jaw clenched with frustration. As she grasped the knob, Halifax spoke up.
"One moment, Jones."
Olivia paused, hand frozen on the knob. She took a slow breath before turning back around. "Yes, sir?"
Halifax leaned forward, steepling his fingers on his desk. "As it happens, Detective Brown has fallen ill and will be out for some time. I need someone to cover his caseload."
Olivia's eyes widened in surprise. Halifax continued, "Your patrol reports show you have sharp investigative skills. I'm offering you the chance to take the lead on Brown's cases temporarily as an acting detective."
Olivia's heart leaped, but she kept her tone professional. "It would be an honor, sir. I accept."
Halifax nodded. "Report here first thing tomorrow, then. The paperwork on Brown's open cases will need review." He dismissed her with a wave of his hand.
"Thank you, Inspector Halifax." Olivia walked out, pulse racing. It wasn't an official detective appointment, but it was the opportunity she had been waiting years for. A chance to prove herself. She hurried home, eager to begin pouring over the case files.
A rhythmic clack-clack-clack echoed through the misty night air. Tonight Constable Olivia Jones was on Patrol. The sharp clacking of Olivia's standard-issued leather boots on cobblestones amplified the clarity and volume of each footfall. The syncopated clacks wove together into a persevering cadence, and Olivia couldn't help but smirk to herself. She knew the clacking lent an air of intimidation, announcing her presence and authority to any potential lurkers in the shadows.
She stood tall, her broad shoulders back and head held high underneath her rounded custodian helmet. A few stray wisps of her fiery red hair peeked out from under the helmet's brim. Her pale green eyes constantly roamed, missing nothing. Over her long-sleeved white blouse, she wore a black waistcoat decorated with shining silver buttons. Her long wool coat swirled around her calves, emphasizing her height. Around her shoulders was a black cape, making her outline even more formidable. A truncheon and set of handcuffs hung from her thick leather belt, well-worn from her six years of service.
Tonight the air eddied and swirled with even more mystical energies than usual. Olivia felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle as she walked through pockets of magic scattered throughout the streets. The atmosphere seemed saturated with unnatural thrumming power, like the gathering static before a thunderstorm. Olivia determined that this concentration of sorcery was due to the recent increase in bizarre and macabre crimes that had been plaguing the city as of late.
Headquarters was baffled by the gruesome violence and inexplicable thefts seemingly committed by otherworldly culprits. Even though Olivia had not been present during any of the calls to the recent crimes, she felt as though something sinister was stirring in Caldeon's underbelly. In contrast, butterflies fluttered in her stomach with excitement. She could only hope to play even the smallest part in unraveling these mysteries.
Olivia desperately wanted that shiny silver badge that marked her as a detective. Unfortunately, those appointments were limited as not many gave up those prestigious titles. Why did she want to join those ranks in that stuffy office so badly? To the skeptics, she supposed it looked like foolish ambition or vanity. But to Olivia, it was about purpose. She wanted to use her keen mind and unique gifts not just to patrol the streets but to uncover mysteries and seek justice. Being a detective meant having the authority to chase clues wherever they led rather than just responding to a scene. She dreamed of being the one to connect the dots, reveal the perpetrators, and help right wrongs. Not for the sake of prestige but to make the city safer. One day she would prove herself. She had to. The gleaming badge was more than just a rank to her - it was a key to unlocking her full potential and purpose.
Olivia tipped her hat politely to Mr. Abernathy as he swept the steps of his bakery. She often crossed paths with the kindly shopkeeper at this late hour. Seeing the constable on her rounds gave him a sense of comfort before bedding down for the night.
As she turned down a narrow alley, a drunken Orcish man stumbled out of a pub into her path. She wrinkled her nose at the overpowering ale stench.
"Evenin' Constable!" the man slurred. "Lovely night for a stroll, ain't it?"
"Move along, sir," Olivia directed, refusing to break her stride.
The man wavered for a moment before lurching back inside the pub doors. Olivia sighed - she'd have to keep an eye on that establishment.
Rounding a corner, Olivia heard a faint whimper. She followed the sound to a young girl crouched behind a stack of boxes, tears streaming down her dirt-smudged cheeks.
Olivia knelt so they were at eye level. "Why hello there, miss. Are you lost?" she asked gently.
The girl nodded, rubbing her runny nose with a grimy hand. Olivia offered her handkerchief. After a few soothing words, she was able to coax out the girl's address and personally escorted her safely home, a tiny hand clinging to two of Olivia's sturdy fingers.
It wasn't glamorous work, but moments like these reminded Olivia how much she loved serving the people of this city, even in a small way.
****
The first hints of dawn appeared as Olivia returned to the stone headquarters of the Caldeon constabulary. She nodded to the desk sergeant as she hung up her cape and truncheon. The echoing voices and clacking footsteps on the tile floors made it clear that the day shift officers were already mustering for their assignments.
Olivia's patrol boots clicked purposefully as she climbed the creaking wooden stairs to the detectives' offices on the second floor. Keeping her head high, she ignored the curious glances and hushed murmurs that followed her. A female constable was rare enough, but Olivia striding confidently through the detectives' domain was an anomaly.
She came to a halt outside a frosted glass door bearing the name: Inspector C. Halifax. She longed to be on the other side of that door, welcomed as a fellow investigator rather than eyed with unease in the hallway. Clearing her throat, she knocked firmly. A gruff voice bid her enter.
Inspector Halifax was poring over some documents at his desk. His gray mustache twitched with irritation at the interruption. "Yes, Constable Jones? I'm very busy."
Olivia stood at attention. "My evening report, sir," she said, handing over the detailed notes from her patrol. The inspector gave it a cursory glance before adding it to his mountain of paperwork. Dismissed by his silence, Olivia turned to exit. Jaw clenched with frustration. As she grasped the knob, Halifax spoke up.
"One moment, Jones."
Olivia paused, hand frozen on the knob. She took a slow breath before turning back around. "Yes, sir?"
Halifax leaned forward, steepling his fingers on his desk. "As it happens, Detective Brown has fallen ill and will be out for some time. I need someone to cover his caseload."
Olivia's eyes widened in surprise. Halifax continued, "Your patrol reports show you have sharp investigative skills. I'm offering you the chance to take the lead on Brown's cases temporarily as an acting detective."
Olivia's heart leaped, but she kept her tone professional. "It would be an honor, sir. I accept."
Halifax nodded. "Report here first thing tomorrow, then. The paperwork on Brown's open cases will need review." He dismissed her with a wave of his hand.
"Thank you, Inspector Halifax." Olivia walked out, pulse racing. It wasn't an official detective appointment, but it was the opportunity she had been waiting years for. A chance to prove herself. She hurried home, eager to begin pouring over the case files.
