LanaStorm — Roleplayer Guild

Emily Newport

NOCTURNIA POLICE DEPARTMENT PRESS CONFERENCE

Standing in front of the media was Clash herself, dressed in her police blues typical for a blue blood. The formal uniform left her tattoos covered as she adjusted the microphone on the stand. Flanked by her officers the men were dressed for war just like the woman wanted, chaos always bred opportunity as much as it bred death, despair, and more. The flashing of cameras dazzled and enamored the young drug-dealing and stealing cop, a perfect white smile spread onto her face before she opened her speech to the media. It was called quickly without too much fanfare or why, what could Nocturnia's perfect detective have for the vultures this time around?

"Good day everyone, my name is Emily Newport and today my division has conducted the biggest raid in Nocturnia's history. Throughout the last few months, my team has investigated and uncovered criminal elements in North Battleford. This morning tactical teams struck and raided organized crime groups operating from the industrial area, a large number of drugs and weapons were recovered and of course, scumbags were taken to Nocturnia's jail. The Nocturnia Police Department remains committed to keeping the streets safe and cleaning up those who wish to bring us back into lawlessness. Thank you!"

With that she left the podium, leaving the media teased and frenzied about what would be next from the dynamic detective. They all wanted more, the next scoop something to put on the front page. The front page would be pictures of the carnage and destruction of these thugs and their drug labs or the police lineup. The Battleford 20, trial would be set later in the month.

Kicking ass and getting paid, two of Clash's favorite things.

Blue Bloods invade North Battleford.

AN EMAIL TOO FAR

While at her desk, Clash worked on her next project. Remotely manned turrets around orphanages, any spider or human that got too close and took one of the armband ID'd kids would get blasted into kid-snatcher hell. Or so, that's how it would play out on paper but the turrets could also shoot her enemy's vehicles.

Snickering and giggling alike she sketched out more concepts and schematics on her busy desk when a pang from an email hit her inbox.

A quick review of the email had the woman clicking delete, two Microsoft clips with NPD hats grabbed the email and physically escorted it to the deleted bin before it was smited by IT.

"What a scam." She mused, going back to her drawing of a net gun capturing Webb.
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