Pilatus

SOL CITY - Modern Slice of Life - Chapter 2 - Completed & archived. 2/2

@Avanhelsing

No pressure whatsoever. It's as involved as you want it to be.

We're here to help.

Make a CS and jump in.

SOL CITY - Modern Slice of Life - Chapter 2 - Completed & archived. 2/2

Paige Kennedy

As a US Marshal, Paige saw her share of gruesome scenes, but even she winced a bit at the sound of Titus’s leg being snapped in Milo’s vice. He was slightly tougher than she thought and though she knew that beating him senseless probably wouldn’t produce the information that they needed, she enjoyed the sight of Milo, sleeves rolled back and sweat beginning to bead over his face, giving him an old fashioned beat-down. Occasionally, the poor man would glance at her, almost expectantly, like she would call an end to the punishment, but she only stared back, piercingly in the dim light. Leaning back against his workbench, arms crossed, she watched as Milo delivered a hammer-like blow to the crushed leg producing an animalistic howl of agony. It almost made her smile, seeing him directing his anger with such ferocity, but she waited, patiently.

She was a little surprised when he started to talk. They had no way to verify his information and she figured he was likely bold enough to lie just to mislead them and stop the pain. They needed something more to be sure he wasn’t just blowing smoke. She could tell that he still believed, just like Elvin had, that no matter what he wouldn’t die in Milo’s shop, because she was present and wouldn’t let it happen. “That’s enough,” She said taking the same hammer in hand that she had before and walking up next to Milo. A sigh of relief came over the pain ridden man with her words and his shoulders slumped down in exhaustion as he hung his head briefly before looking back up. The tiny glimmer of hope in his eyes was the very thing she was looking for when she casually tossed the hammer aside. Her hand moved like a ghost bringing her pistol out of its holster before him and firing.

The hollow-point round cut through the chair directly between his legs and only millimeters from his manhood burying itself in fragments through Milo’s floor. Smoke rolled off the end of the gun barrel as he looked up at her dark visage in complete terror. Her eyes blazed behind olive-green that nearly glowed back at him. “The next one is for you, Titus.” She said raising the barrel slightly.

The story began to turn much more detailed as he stammered for words. She kept the gun trained through names, places, dates and times, but still wasn’t satisfied and began to shake her head slowly not sure if she was allowing herself to be fueled by the same raw anger as Milo or if she really thought she could get anything else out of him. She felt like some dark shadow in Milo’s shop was slowly closing her index finger inward, talking to her again, in her head. She could get away with it. Her small SiG pistol had no safety, by design the first pull on her trigger was about ten pounds. It would be easy, even cover for Milo after it happened. The air inside felt like it was near boiling as she looked down the sights feeling her grip tighten slowly. No judge or jury would believe a scumbag like Titus.

Her phone buzzed in her back pocket and the trance was broken. She glanced at Milo briefly and took it out to look at the message still keeping the gun leveled. Her eyes settled back on Titus. “Fear not Titus, for you have been saved.” She said tilting her head slightly from behind the sights. “I expect death to be… nothingness.” She said lowering her arm and looking away as if a part of herself was returning to the moment.

“Th-that’s not in the Bible.” Titus sputtered.

“No, it is not.” She said solemnly and still looking away. “That was Isaac Asimov,” She recalled the quote from a paper she wrote in one of her psychology classes at UF. “He did not believe in God.” She looked at Milo briefly and holstered her gun once more stepping around to him where Titus could not see. In the lowlight with the smell of gun smoke and sweat, she gripped his shirt at the neckline and pulled him towards her. Closing her eyes and letting herself go for only a moment, she kissed him.

“I have to go,” She said stepping back and glancing down at the hole in the floor her bullet had dug. “Sorry about your floor.”

@RoccanIronclad

SOL CITY - Modern Slice of Life - Chapter 2 - Completed & archived. 2/2

@ShwiggityShwah

@Cairo's character, Sarah, is a zookeeper.

SOL CITY - Modern Slice of Life - Chapter 2 - Completed & archived. 2/2

@Rodiak

Good to go. Move her on over to the character tab.

SOL CITY - Modern Slice of Life - Chapter 2 - Completed & archived. 2/2

Joel Nicolosi

Joel chuckled a little at Sio’s words. “Well, you’re not gonna have to wait,” He said and continued matter-of-factly: “We’re leavin’ in it right now.” He opened the door and retrieved a small red bag from inside pausing briefly to look over the spartan interior: Two spec racing seats with five point harness, roll-cage, fire extinguisher, carbon fiber panels and unaesthetic steel switches. It had a somewhat bizarre “new car” smell combined with the distinctive, rubbery odor of high-performance track tires and race-gas that Joel liked. “They gave me all kinds of stuff while I was over there,” He said tossing the bag to her. “And they were actually very nice, I think that’s a women’s team jacket I got you.” He could tell she was cold.

Contrary to their gritty rivalry at the Grand Prix, the Nissan engineers had been more than welcoming and downright hospitable towards Joel while he was visiting as if he’d earned a place among them. He certainly felt like he deserved it, having carried their brand for years, but he took everything humbly as he knew he’d humbled them; showing class was important to him. There were a few more items that he left tucked inside for the flight over and he carefully placed them with the tires on the back of the skid remembering that he would have to later send a courier to pick up everything anyway. Track cars weren’t known for trunk space. He dug in his pocket for the small “key” that was shaped more like a plug and inserted it into the dash. Like a motorcycle key it only turned on the battery.

Joel swung himself into the seat and took down the steering wheel from its hanger attaching it with an affirmative, metallic click! to the steering column. With a small twist of the key, the battery came alive first with an electric hum then the fuel pump sounded with a growl as he activated the control switch. A small green light came up on the dash indicating the pressures were good. His thumb flipped open a hat-switch and pushed in the spring-loaded button.

The warehouse erupted in the echo of an unfiltered exhaust note: Something akin to a banshee and roaring lion, completely visceral and bone-jarringly loud. The working shift seemed to stop in its movements just to see the commotion and joining several others that gathered when the cover was removed. Joel tapped the accelerator a few times blasting the rpms up to the red with only the tiniest flex of his toes. A fireball of unburned fuel popped from the side-exit exhaust and was gone again in a flash. He nodded in satisfaction and glanced over to Sio. He knew she couldn’t hear him, but his lips clearly read: Let’s go.

@Almalthia

SOL CITY - Modern Slice of Life

S O L C I T Y

Modern Slice of Life

Welcome citizens of the Guild to our adventure

---

The Idea Reforged

Hello all,

A little over two weeks ago @PrinceAlexus and I launched Sol City Chapter Two continuing our take on the "Slice of Life" genre. Our goal was (and continues to be) to provide the open world sandbox that many enjoy and throw a few new ideas into the pot along with some others we found to be successful.

The original Sol City went more than 500 IC posts over 8 months, surviving the Great Guild Lag and arriving at its planned-out conclusion. We are proud to bring you our new offering, rebuilt, upgraded and better than ever with 29 locations covering everything from dive bars to diamond studded events.

For those of you that may not be familiar, there is no magic or dystopian angle in our game. It’s simply a setting of everyday people living out their lives in a fictional/fun city setting where drama, romance and a few surprises bring the world to life. Right now we have about eighteen players, 29 locations and a nifty map (that is regularly updated) to keep track of them all. To keep things moving, we're running regular events for our time skips as well as a an over-arching plot. It is our goal to recruit 20-25 players at a minimum as the city can continues to grow without any limits.

We are wide open to suggestions and want this to continue to be a community project. Everyone is invited to take as much stake in the game as they please. Your plans/input/ideas will be valued in the same way as our first game, i.e., you can expect things like time skips and major events to be discussed in the OOC/Discord openly and feedback encouraged.

If you're worried about post count, don't be, just jump right in. We aim to make it easy as possible to get in the game be it post 5, 50 or 500. We do encourage you to read through the old thread at your leisure, but it is not required.

Thanks for reading our IC! Let us know what you think or any questions you may have.

SOL CITY - Modern Slice of Life - Chapter 2 - Completed & archived. 2/2

Paige Kennedy

After the morning escapade, Paige spent the rest of the day mostly around the Marshal Service office either working on the Giancana case file or checking in with Cyber Crimes officer to see if he had come up with anything to help her get another line on the hacker that managed to escape that morning. The young man didn’t seem to mind the company, but she could sense his nervousness around her, much like CT’s friend back at the apartment. It was all very high-schoolish, she thought. As if the teacher had paired up the chess champion and pitcher from the softball team. She reminisced with a whimsical thought back at her high school days and the sports she played: mostly volleyball and softball; never really putting enough into it to go farther than being locally recognized. It wasn’t really her forte. Though she was fiercely competitive, she was mostly there for the status and social aspects.

A text interrupted her musings as the man hammered keystrokes and clicked away on a laptop. The afternoon had been mostly quiet after he’d given up on conversation long ago. They had nothing in common. Paige glanced down at her phone reading the text from Milo. Her lips twitched and curled with thought and she glanced over at her temporary partner. “I’m going out for a minute,” She said. “You want me to bring you back anything?” She added to make it seem less conspicuous.

“No, but thanks, go ahead,” The man replied. “I’m on his trail, but he doesn’t know it… yet.” He continued looking intently at the screen. “I’m just staying behind him a few steps at a time.”

Whatever that means. Paige thought to herself. She scribbled on a piece of paper and slid it over to him. “That’s my phone number,” She said. “If you get anything, you text me. I don’t care if he’s in Mexico.”

The young man’s free hand left the keyboard only briefly and slid the slip of paper over to his side, not even looking down. He merely nodded. The fact that she had given him her phone number meant nothing.

Paige smirked in satisfaction as she walked away. She could appreciate professionalism.

Milo’s shop wasn’t far away and she didn’t bother texting him back. She just showed up and let herself in with the key he’d given her. Even if he wasn’t near the window, he’d know it was her when he heard the striker draw back inside the door. Her sneakers tread softly through the quiet darkness of his house and her shadow was cast over his things in the faint light that he kept up for her arrival. She found him waiting with the man, sweaty and bruised from the restraints Milo used to fasten him down. He looked at her, seeing the star and the gun holstered at her hip, almost looking relieved that law enforcement had arrived. She grinned back at him as the dim light darkened her face. “Hello Titus,” She said politely before looking over at Milo seeing the array of metal-working tools he laid out and giving him a nod. She picked up one of his rounding hammers, calmly feeling its weight and balance in her hand and watching Titus’ eyes follow her with confusion. She looked back at him, not speaking for a moment, only holding the small nordic-style hammer lightly in both hands. “Did you know my daddy was a preacher?” She asked.

@RoccanIronclad

SOL CITY - Modern Slice of Life - Chapter 2 - Completed & archived. 2/2

Joel Nicolosi

A shower and a change of clothes later for Joel and they were taking an Uber out to old Sol International. Joel didn’t say much along the way, but he could tell the curiosity was driving Sio up the wall. He was far from admitting it, but having her tag along lately was refreshing. She wasn’t obnoxious, asked decent questions, seemed to enjoy his crazy conspiracy talk shows and didn’t fall for it when he told her to go get the blinker fluid. What he was picking up from international air freight demanded an audience that could only consist of one and she seemed as good a choice as any. There were few that could keep up with him and his strange habits, but she was holding her own from what he observed. He yawned as the car turned into the small parking lot observing no sign of any white Land Rovers, just the high tail of a Nippon Cargo 747 behind the admin building at the gate.

Throwing a bag over his shoulder he swiped his way through the front door giving a wink to the receptionist as he went. After a short walk they were in the expansive receiving zone where the pallets were being unloaded. The giant nose cone of the aircraft pointed skyward on its hinges while the beep and hum machinery buzzed around in the brightness of high-powered flood lights. The cold air of the night cut through the open space and he looked around with a hard narrow glance as they made their way up to the receiving desk. A low skid, covered with a silky metallic fabric was discreetly set off to the side caused his expression to lighten and he smirked wildly. He swung his bag around and removed a hefty folder from inside. Rolling it up, he used it to point for Sio to take notice. “That’s our piece right there.” He said raising his voice over the noise. His smirk had turned into a near maniacal grin as they came up to the desk.

The attendant, the same one Joel dealt with for years on his imports, shook his head and smiled broadly as Joel and Sio approached. “I don’t know how you pulled that one off old boy.” He said taking the roll of customs and import paperwork from Joel’s hand. He already knew what was under the cover.

“C’mon, let’s see it,” Joel said. “I’m taking it outta here tonight.”

The small barrier that separated them raised as the lock was released. For some reason, in his excitement, Joel took Sio’s hand to lead her over, not taking his eyes off the prize as they walked. He could feel his heart beating, waiting. He’d risked his whole reputation for this moment and nearly lost it by the length of a front air-dam. The roar of a heavy aircraft rotating down the runway sounded in the distance outside and the heavy covering fluttered lightly in the breeze that came through the air off the flightline. It was almost surreal, like a scene from a movie as they removed the clips from the base of the skid. The wind swept under rippling the metallic cover like a wave first teasing a black wheel and a letter-marked tire. They peeled it back slowly from the front, carefully rolling it as they went revealing carbon fiber angles and swooping aerodynamics in a satin-black finish. They flipped the remainder over the high, rear spoiler and folded it over storing it with an extra set of tires on the back of the pallet.

“Remember that bet I told you about?” Joel said turning back to Sio. “This is what I won.”

Set before them and unmarked save for a small outline of Suzuka Speedway behind the driver’s window and the factory badging was the same car he’d struggled to beat for years in the Grand Prix with only one noticeable difference: there were two seats inside the roll-cage rather than one. Joel walked alongside running one hand over the refined lines of the wind-tunnel tested, completely hand-built body just barely allowing his fingertips to touch the paint. “Most of the time I was over there was spent building this car up the way I wanted it.” He said with the utmost seriousness. “It’s not legal for GT racing,” He continued, looking at it. “I wanted all the race restrictions removed, just so we could run flat out, no rules. We tested it at Suzuka over several days until I was satisfied.” He looked on solemnly thinking of how he’d trod in the footsteps of some the greats at that course; the idols he looked toward his whole life. Sharing that same track with them felt sacred.

Digging in his bag he took out a metal plate. The standard Washington State, SOL CITY registration. The large characters spelled out LAPTIME.

“I once told someone the 300 was my Mona Lisa,” He said looking back. “This is the Sistine Chapel.”

@Almalthia

SOL CITY - Modern Slice of Life - Chapter 2 - Completed & archived. 2/2

Joel Nicolosi

“Because I don’t put up with that high-society bullshit.” Joel said flatly in response to Sio’s first question. He leaned on the control lever for his single hydraulic lift and the body of Sio’s Corvette lifted up away from the chassis leaving only a frame with four wheels, an engine and a transmission still sitting on the shop floor. Since Thursday morning he’d worked his normal bizarre hours around the shop stripping it down to the bare components that were now being separated. The parts were spread all over the shop: The dash, the seats, the wiring harness, the long nose section that he planned to swap out, steering linkage and all the plumbing that went through the firewall. He hadn’t decided what he was going to do with the paint, body work was not his forte, but he had a good source. It seemed an unnecessary waste to completely strip the paint when they were just going back to black again. To her credit, Sio stuck around the whole time. Sometimes they’d chat, other times just listen to the radio. She did a little of her artwork, kept track of the parts and sorted through his mountain of emails reading them off as he worked.

The lift stopped slowly when the wheel well was at eye level and he walked around to the back of the frame checking out the top of the gas tank as he went. “It’s one thing if they don’t like you, that’s fine,” He continued giving the chassis a light push and rolling it out from beneath the body, “But to exclude you from a public party that they were hosting.” He shook his head, clearly disgusted with what he was saying, and tossed down a set of wheel chocks to keep it from rolling any further. “That’s just being a bitch,” He said firmly, “I just can’t stand it.” He left the frame and went back to inspecting the underside the body with a flashlight for corrosion, particularly around the old battery area as he listened to her talk. “Sounds like he needs to get a life.” He said answering her next concern nonchalantly. The underside looked as good as the top. No rust, no holes, just like it had come off the showroom. It still hadn’t come undone very happily and he thoroughly cussed Chevrolet the entire time he’d taken it apart.

“The only thing she eats for lunch is a piece of lettuce and a glass of water.” Joel replied to her final inquiry. It wasn’t said as a joke or jab, just a statement as he glanced at the clock hanging in the shop and began putting away some of his tools. “And no, we are not dating at all.” He was coming down off some of the rage that the memory of that scene at the party invoked. “I’m surprised you’re worried about offending anyone,” He said glancing back over his shoulder from his massive toolbox at her, “Particularly that lot.” Wiping his hands with a rag, he looked over at the 300 still sitting quietly in the back of the shop bearing the decals of their “sponsors” from the Grand Prix. All those logos reminded him of was the snooty attitude of Marlin’s family, but the memory of beating her at that race was almost as good as winning the Grand Prix. Their dejected and disappointed faces as he cruised back up the flightline fueled some dark satisfaction within him. He again looked at the clock just to be sure his timing was right.

“It’s time to go out to the airport, you comin’?”

@Almalthia

Joel's Shop Radio

SOL CITY - Modern Slice of Life - Chapter 2 - Completed & archived. 2/2

Paige Kennedy

-Marshal Service Annex, City Hall, Friday Morning-

The heavy manila file came down on the hardwood table with a satisfying thwack! that was just as Chief Deputy, Art Stirling intended as he passed them out around the table starting with Paige and moving on to the other deputies as he spoke. “Small-fry Friday ladies and gents!” He said with sarcastic excitement and rubbed his hands together. He had a few slides ready to go on a PowerPoint at the head of the table that corresponded with the files he passed out.

“Do we have to really call it that?” Paige grumbled. “’Small-fry Friday?’” She stared blankly when the folder hit the table. Her day started with an immense headache and she was scantly over it.

“Yes,” The Chief responded looking down on her like a boarding-school instructor, “Because I’m the boss and boss gets to pick out nicknames.”

“I love small-fry Friday, personally.” Her regular partner, Xi, said mockingly. He was completely awake and pivoted back and forth impatiently in his seat.

“Kiss-ass.” Paige shot back. The leather swivel chairs of the conference room were handsomely padded and she was enjoying sliding down into hers further and further.

“Kennedy, you look like hell.” The Chief said, “Were you out all night with the uhh, oh… What was it? the Horse Whisperer, again?”

“Blacksmith” Xi corrected. “You’re thinkin’ about the shoes.”

“Well, shit”

“You know, horses- shoes- blacksmith.” Xi said turning back to Paige. “It’s word association.”

“Have you been drug tested lately?” Paige snapped cutting her tired eyes over towards him. “And no, I was not.” She continued firmly. In truth, she and Sio had partaken in a local event at Corona Park known as “Thirsty Thursdays” and it was a hit. “I’m sorry I said anything. Now can we please get back to small-fry Friday?” She said flipping open the case jacket and starting to look it over.

Small-fry Friday was a roundup of sorts for the non-violent and less threatening criminal rundown of the Sol City district of the Marshal Service. Most were either on the run from courts in other states or had stolen large sums of money through extortion, bribery, con-jobs or some other method of ill-repute. The Chief actually did enjoy, at least for a day, taking his attention off the big files and focusing on getting his office’s numbers up by bringing in relatively easy-to-catch targets. That, and the fact the swooping arm of his deputies tended to catch the wayward fugitives by complete surprise, made for hilarious stories later on.

“First one up is CT Shader.” Art said starting the slide show. A scruffy looking, though smiling mugshot, appeared of a man in his mid-thirties with a bowl haircut, pencil-thin mustache and glasses. Paige rolled her eyes and shook her head. It was her file. “CT goes by the alias Shade, Shadetree, 2Shad or,” He angled the paper slightly away from himself to make sure he was reading correctly and pushed his glasses up, “2-Shad-4-U,” He pronounced slowly. Everyone looked at their files making it immediately evident Paige would be handling the oddly titled computer hacker. Snickers went around the room. “A few days ago CT shut down a poker website and rerouted all the winnings into bitcoin that he then passed all over the planet while skimming it back for himself.” The deputies all looked on quietly. Cyber-crimes were not their forte, but they knew the perp had to be physically nearby for the Chief to have him on his list. “Oh it gets better folks,” He continued. “After he shut down the website he made a creative little modification to the homepage.” He changed the slide and everyone immediately chuckled. The new slide displayed the website address along with an official looking message: Domain Seized by United States Marshall Service. Everyone knew Marshal was spelled with only a singular ‘l’ at the end and was a common error. The rest of the page carried the official seal along with a phone number. “As you can imagine, our phone lines got rather lively with asshole gamblers trying to find out why we seized their winnings, but as it turns out, spell-check may have fucked poor CT. One our surveillance aircraft just happened to catch a phone call between CT and someone else on the Western Shore, where we know he’s hanging out now.”

“So let me get this straight,” Paige said. “He can do all this crazy junk with computers, but he can’t spell Marshal correctly?”

“That’s about the gist of it.” The Chief replied.

“This whole country is circling the drain.” She said channeling the sentiment of one of her early mentors. “Just gimmie a couple hours, I’ll get him.”

--------------------------------

Western Shore

About two hours later Paige was scoping out the Western Shore apartment that the surveillance aircraft targeted as CT’s latest hangout. She’d been sitting in her little blue BMW for about thirty minutes just watching the fourth floor unit and listening to some conservative talk radio channel, but not seeing any activity, was about to head up and take care of business. Finishing off a coffee and adjusting her holster slightly behind her jacket as she got out, she ran her fingers over the spot on the rear fender where Milo’s temporary squeeze, that paraplegic ghost of woman, had dug a healthy gash in the paint during a passive-aggressive fit of jealousy. The bill from Sol City BMW was not cheap, but Paige reluctantly dug into her split with the bounty hunter and paid it off. Though the car was not hers, she swore then she would not let Asset Seizures auction it out from underneath her no matter what.

Western Shore was more to her liking and as she walked along the sidewalk finding the yards nicely kept and streets clean of debris it reminded her a little of the small neighborhood where her parents lived in Florida. People kept up their own lawns, everyday cars were parked in the concrete driveways and children’s toys could be seen in a few backyards. Real people lived here and it was refreshing. Keeping a steady eye on the fourth floor and watching around her, she could picture her parents’ home for a moment: Her dad mowing the grass, the tired old 4Runner she drove in high school and college sitting in the driveway next to his pickup and her mother outside running the pressure washer. Milo had told her not to dwell on it so much, but some things did genuinely make her feel good and she had a slight smile thinking about them.

With her star and gun mostly concealed behind her jacket, she blended right in and with her hair down, nonchalantly ascended the four flights of stairs passing a couple of younger girls on her way up who paid her no mind at all. She knocked lightly on the door of the apartment and waited.

There was a heavy click! inside the metal door as the deadbolt was drawn away and the lock on the knob was turned. A fairly hefty young man happily opened the door wide enough for her to get a sweeping view of the inside behind him. CT was seated at a computer desk with his back to her hammering away at a keyboard with one hand and playing a fighting game on the TV with the other. His head only twitched slightly between the two screens. She didn’t know much about video games, but being able to play it one handed seemed mildly impressive. “Hi,” She said to the boy that opened the door with her brightest smile. He was much taller than her and blushed heavily stammering for a response. She could see the trancelike state her green eyes put over him and it was immediately obvious no woman had set foot in the apartment since the lease started. “Is CT in?” She added a touch of southern inflexion to the question and stepped on through the doorway unhindered.

Hearing his name, CT turned back over his shoulder. His look was serious and accusatory towards his larger roommate. “Bobby! What the hell?! We talked about this!” He barked.

“But it’s a girl.” Bobby replied as if the argument were more than enough to calm all other concerns. CT needn’t be so critical of their guest.

Paige calmly strolled on through. It was surprisingly clean for a single man’s hideout and smelled nice to boot. Props to Bobby for keeping a nice place. She thought. “Time to go, CT.” She drew her jacket back slightly revealing her star and gun.

“She’s a cop you dumbass!” CT snarled.

“Oh… shit, sorry bro.” Bobby looked both defeated and disappointed. He slumped his shoulders.

“You know you can’t just come barging up in here,” CT said turning back to Paige. “We got rights.”

“He let me in.” She said giving Bobby another innocent glance.

As she turned back, CT bolted for a sideroom and slammed the door behind him. Paige sighed and shook her head. Walking over to the door she put one hand on her sidearm and turned the knob. Locked.

“You’re not gonna shoot him are you?’ Bobby asked worriedly.

“I’ll just knick him in the leg for being mean to you, Bobby.” Paige replied with feigned sympathy. He melted at the sound of her saying his name. She pounded on the door. “CT open up, I don’t have all day for this…” Her words faded away as she could hear a commotion on the other side of the wooden door and then the distinctive sound of blinds being drawn up and a window opening. Taking a quick step back she kicked the door open in time to find her fugitive tossing a bag out the open window then with only enough hesitation to look back at her slightly amazed face from window frame, jumped out.

Paige dashed up to the window ledge and glanced over finding CT slowly pulling himself out of a dumpster. “You gotta be shittin’ me.” She said watching him hobble over and pick up his bag. There was a moped parked next to his landing pad and after he threw one leg over and started it up he glanced back up over his shoulder and gave her the finger before tottling off up the street.

--------------------------------

City Hall

“So tell me again,” Xi grimaced. “He was like some kind of nerd, go-bag Bear Grylls?”

“He was surprisingly spry.” Paige said. They were again in the conference room back at Central Point. Xi listened to Paige tell the story of CT’s escape while she filled out the incident report. Not knowing a lot about computers, she had taken the laptop he left behind and a few other items from the apartment before she returned: All of which were spread over the table. The Chief and a younger man from their Cyber Crimes division were looking through the lot of it.

“Between rolling in here hungover and the drain-circling computer nerd, you are on fire today.” Xi chided. Paige shot him the same glare as she had earlier.

“Well, there is some good news,” The young man said from behind CT’s laptop. His fingers hammered away rapidly. He liked the busy sound of it and the fact that he was the only one in the room that knew what he was doing with the captured items. The Chief leaned in behind him glancing over his glasses to get a better look at the screen. “Shutdown notice isn’t on the site anymore.” He said turning the screen around for Paige and Xi to both get a look. “He’s replaced it with a link to his blog and a big, bold post he made about how he just gave ‘Sheriff Barbie’ the slip.”

Xi cackled.

“I’ll find him.” Paige said flatly.

“Might have to let CC see if they can get another line on him first,” Art said sipping his coffee mug.

“C’mon, guy jumps out a fourth-story window into a dumpster, almost breaks his back then gives me the bird before he gets away on a moped.” Paige replied. “I love this guy, let me catch him.”

“Think you can pull anything off there that will help us today?” Art said turning back to the CC officer.

“He’s definitely a pro, but he’s cocky.” The young man replied. “Gimmie a few hours.”

“Can I reply to that post?” Paige asked studying the screen. The chief shrugged and she immediately leaned over the table and started typing:

Just keep on blogging CT, I’ll get you tonight.
-HB

“What’s ‘HB’ stand for?” The man asked.

“It’s an inside joke.” Paige smirked and posted the reply.