Tyko Vaara
Deon Walker, leaned against the driver's door of the white Ford SUV, bearing the markings of the Trinity City Police in black, and reflective silver. Shaking the little container of ranch dressing, with added parm for the salad waiting on the hood in clear tupperware. Six feet tall, and athletically fit, and comfortable in his blues as any five-year veteran of the force should be. His skin was a deep mocha, and when he smiled and nodded to passing PAs, actors, or extras, his teeth were a brilliant white. The man beside him was a little shorter, at 5'10", his skin a deep tan that would have blended in well with the sand and desiccated vegetation in the desert. His blues were quite new, perhaps a half-shade brighter than his partner's. Brown eyes scanned the people around him, figuring out their patterns, habits, looking for anything distinguishable as out of place, yet in a relaxed manner, while he ate instant ramen from a cup with a fork.
"Going to have to get used to it Tyke," Deon continued the conversation the pair had going earlier, while they ate and watched, "The Press loves naming you guys. Seems like every Gammer has some flashy-ass name they go by. Most of the time, seems like the first name run in print, is the one that sticks. Sometimes, the Gammer gets the press to change it, usually if their own idea for a name is considered more..." He paused, opening the container for the ranch and pouring it on his salad, "Fuck, what's that word. Provocative? Evocative? Close'nuff. You get it though. If the Editor thinks it sounds better, or will generate more clicks, that's what they run. 'Turtle' is far from the worse, though I do wonder how that got leaked out of the department. I mean, shit," Picking up the container, he began folding leaves of baby spinach, and kale through the puddles of ranch, mixing it with the sliced cherry tomatoes, raisins, radishes, and sunflower seeds. "You could have ended up as sparky, sparkles, or something worse!"
Smirking a little as he chewed, Tyko nodded, remembering the event that occurred just last week; it had been a quiet day before some some asshat Gamma started making a fuss. The nabs were called in, and were forced to chase the young punk down, but as often happens, collateral damage occurred. One wing of a low-rise apartment block, just four stories was hit by some massive attack unleashed by the rogue Gamma. Just three blocks away, Deon and Tyko were the first on scene. Before Deon could react, Tyko was out of the car and bolting towards the rubble, his skin and uniform swirling with the green-electric like energy that came out whenever Tyko activated his own power. Almost immediately, the rookie Officer was lifting slabs of concrete, hundreds of pounds or thousands, and shifting them out of the way, as he dug through the rubble, following the screams of the buried survivors.
In the aftermath, he rescued three people, before the rescue services arrived, two more he assisted with who were unconscious, and helped to recover two bodies. In the debriefing, he was both chided, and praised for his work. Officer Jeffries was the one who likened watching Tyko dig through the rubble to that of a Gopher Turtle of her home state of Florida. While Tyko avoided having to talk with the press directly, he still found the attention awkward, and uncomfortable.
"Should have joined the Nab's man." Tyko looked up and over at his superior as the man started that again, "Look, I'm just saying, with your powers, you could do a lot of good with the Nabs! Think of the pay!"
Tyko sighed, shaking his head slightly, "Already told you, I'd rather be here, being a first responder, than to be forced to wait until I am called for." Stabbing his fork into the noodles, he lifted it out, let some fall, and began to twist, "How long would it have taken for Search and Rescue to get those people out? That crew did not have any Gamma with them." The clump of noodles slid off his fork in his distraction, causing him to let out a slight snort of exasperation, "As well, it was you who told me that, 'An Officer who desires money, is no Officer at all,' right?"
Deon let out a quick burst of laughter, "Got me there Tyke, got me there!" He pooped half of a cherry tomato into his mouth, before gesturing with his fork to the woman on the motorcycle, waiting for something. "How about her?"
His eyes shifted over the blonde in red, and nodded, "Alright."
Stopping with his fork half way to his mouth, Deon looked aghast at his trainee, "Alright?! Just alright?"
Shrugging casually, as he started another wind of noodles, "Pretty on the outside, yes. What is she like though? Besides, I don't ha-"
Cutting Tyko off, "Don't have time, yeah, I know. Most people I would say, '
Make Time!' But you're already burnin' 24 hours for a day, for a week solid. Tracy worries'bout you man, and I gotta agree, workin' like that, Gamma or no, ain't healthy. What would be healthy for you..." Deon inclined his head towards the woman again, some sixty feet distant.
He rolled his eyes, but a small smile escaped; it was nice to know people cared. He looked back to the woman on the bike once more, before moving his eyes away, watching the rest of the people, some moving like hurried chickens, others just strolling in the sun.
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