A pre-word to all who stray into this thread. As is normal with my NaNo projects, they are written very specifically with Tricia in mind as my only audience.
They are steeped heavily in our RP lore and may be impenetrible to anyone who isn't in the know. Also I'm posting these the same day I write them, so
they are largely unedited, be afraid. Be very afraid.
-
Her name is Dr. Vivian Dawn. She is a resident doctor at Sega City General Hospital and is well on the way to climbing the ladder, her pears regard her selfless dedication to saving life and her unquestionable skill at doing so with peerless admiration. She'd started working for the hospital as a early as sixteen years old, but back in those days she was famous amongst staff for a different reason and under a different name.
Back then, her name was Amberleigh Anderson, though many saw her as a Nightingale angel who was blessed with the ability to cure any person she prayed for, and during her brief three year reign as a nurse at the hospital, she was responsible for saving the lifes of hundreds of thousands of people who were lucky enough to recieve her care.
Those days are over now. Ended when a law was passed banning the existance of individuals with special abilities and powers in Sega City. Years of in-fighting, powered terrorism and "heroic" activity had pushed the public to a breaking point, and in their desperation a cure was created, a cure capable of supressing the abilities of 99% of the population forever. And upon it's completition, it was only a matter of months before the cure became a legal mandate for all people, any who were guilty of dodging the needle would be imprisoned for life.
Amberleigh, or Vivian as she now called herself, was one of the 1% of people who slipped through the cracks. She did not have "powers" persay. Unlike the typical person who the laws were born to combat, she was not born with her abilities and was not infact born in the world she now calls home at all. Her healing touch literally did come from prayers. Growing up, she was to be a high priestess of a religion which drew power from a realm of angels and had extensive training in the spells that they used, which mostly encompassed healing magic.
As the power supression serum would not take away her ability to cast these spells, she was forced to go into hiding for she had gained far too much attention as the miracle healer of Sega City General. From there she dyed her hair auburn, took on a new name and using faked identification and doctored grades, attended medical school to become a real doctor. Her philosophy on life was that if the people of the city would not allow her to heal them with her spells, then she would not stop attempting to heal them with her sheer force of will.
She could have moved to another town. She could have been revered as the miracle healer of a thousand cities. But she stayed. She stayed for duty. She stayed for family. For better or for worse, she strived, grew and she stayed.
And this is how Vivian Dawn was able to walk through the halls of the hospital with a confident step. All in all, life was not too hard. Without the temptation to heal at a touch, she was more driven in her endevours. Victories felt like victories and defeat made her feel defeated, and through her lengthy training at med-school, she loosened up, became socially lubricated, expanded a tree of friendships and even relationships. She was living a full and hapy life without complaints.
A life which was soon to come to an abrupt and unflattering end.
It was only 3pm on a Sunday afternoon when she flipped open a chart for a patient of whom she was due to check on. The name was Sandra Parks, an older lady pushing 60 who was suffering heavily from some seasonly influenza, not exactly the most hospital worthy case in the world, but being the overly caring doctor she was, "Vivian" forced a smile to her face and opened the door, wondering why the name seemed so familiar.
The woman sitting up in her bed seemed just as any older lady would, her hair was a little scraggy, but still a faint dirty blonde and she wore a tired smile which gave the implication that the owner was not used to the action. Before Vivian could open her mouth to introduce herself, the woman had looked to her, wiry smile turning into a full out grin, as she cheerfully said "Hello Amberleigh." in a slow and ominous voice.
Vivian's heart froze in her chest, the memory rushed back to her. She was a fool to forget the name, for it was the name of someone in the past who had been a sworn enemy, the one who was currently at the forefront of the war against powered individuals; Sandra Parks, a woman who's son was killed via colleteral in a super powered struggle over 15 years ago. A woman took it upon herself to make sure none suffer like her son did, even if it means causing absoloute suffering to anyone from the side of the fence Amberleigh sat on.
Before doctor Dawn could react or retreat, the door was closed and locked. A stalky man with darkened bags under his eyes and mussy brown hair was hidden in it's shadow and now stepped out towards the doctor slowly, it took Vivian no time at all to take notice of the switchblade he was weilding and the absoloute ice chill in his eyes as he approached.
"Tell me dear..." Sandra asked slowly from behind the doctor, still weilding a wicked smile upon her face "Does your healing power work on yourself?"
Vivian's hands reached to the bedside table and in her desperation clasped around a ceramic mug which she swung at her aggressor with an angry yell, but her panicked motion yeilded no positive results and the cold eyed assassin grabbed her arm and swung her into a headlock, giving Amberleigh Anderson one final look at the relentlessly evil grin of a feable, biggotted woman with no remorse or care for human life.
As the switchblade's cool edge meet the edge of her neck, she wondered for the first time if this fate was worth all of the lives she had strived so hard to save. With one final thought to her beloved guardian and "brother", she smiled back at the evil hag, even as the blade slit across her throat, and decided that no fate could take away the pride she felt for her good deeds. The only only regret she held in her 32 years of life was that she could have save more.
-
His name is Tyler Dawn. He is a floor manager at a franchise book store in the center of Sega City and holds no hopes or aspirations of climbing ladders or making transfers, The college kids they hire for the registers think of him as a stuffy grouchy hardass with no empathy for their needs and wants, his superiors feel he is talented but unmotivated. He started the job about 15 years ago, as a cashier, when he was 25 years old after resisting the neccessity of work for the entirety of his existance. Back in those days, however, he had little need for a weekly wage or low paid job.
Back then, his name was Stressed Bayfield. A lone spirit who was born from the dreams and desires of a child who was carried away with his imagination. He was able to forge himself entirely into an individual and a formidable warrior, expert with shortswords and skilled at wind based magic. In his lifetime he had battled in wars, saved lives and fought in epic battles.
Since the ban on powered people, he was forced underground with the rest of his family. His girlfriend and her sisters took a new residence in the city with new jobs and new identities. His brother and his wife and child left in search of a more tollerable situation, far from the legal hastles the city brought.
It seemed the old days of excitement were over, and now as he stands in the middle of the history aisle, his eyes lack a fire that his younger self once carried. His hair is losing it's color and the parting is showing signs of receeding. He is getting older. It's undeniable.
As a younger man, he was certain his spirit was immortal, that he would remain young and powerful for all of time, but the ever present force had impressed itself upon him and now he found himself unwillingly buckling to the years.
But life was not all bad for Tyler. Even if the times had changed and time was starting to show it's toll on him, there would always remain certain familiar comforts which would soften the harshness of reality. For one, he still lived with his beloved Tamara, girlfriend for over 17 years and both of her sisters Cari and Navi. But most importantly, his best friend Lee Cypher, boyfriend of Cari, lived with them for all of their time in hiding.
Only Lee was able to maintain his original identity, as a low scale rock scale at local venues. Everyone else was forced to adopt new identities, personas and even make-overs to conceal their true nature. Lee, however, was close enough to a human that he was able to operate in the open, with none knowing he was a half-angel from the same world as Tyler's "sister" Amberleigh.
The thought of the adventure was enough to bring a sad smile to Tyler's face. It all happened 17 years ago, when Stressed Bayfield left the world in search of his individuality. What he found was two kindred spirits, one was the half-angel who became his best friend, and the other was a young priestess who was being bred as a sacrifice for her religion. Through his actions, Tyler saved the girl and brought her back to his world where she began a life for him, looking at her savior as an older brother who would always look out for him.
His actions also brought the land of Saygrem close to an all consuming civil war and a neigh on masacre which would have stained his soul forever. But those stories are buried in the past now, and the floor manager who stares emptily at the clock waiting for his shift to be over finds no solace in retreating to them.
It was mid-afternoon, the clock was edging towards the 3:40 point and his shift was not due to end for another two hours. Heaving a sigh, he paced around the empty aisles, watching for his coworkers to see who he could ask to realphabetize yet another stack of books which had not been touched by human hands for weeks.
Being a central city location, it's main clientelle was freeloading office workers on their lunchbreaks who spent more money at the coffee bar than they did reading the books which they flicked through each day. Had he any pride or passion in either his job or the dull blue "Noble Borders" shirt with the "Hi My Name Is Tyler" tag, he may have seen this as a problem, but boredom was a far easier demon to slay than aggressive consumers who demand we open up the "non-dogeared" magazine stacks from the back which we must keep for self-important people who simply must have a mint condition copy of People magazine, it being the collectors item it is.
It's not that he had distain for his job or the people he encounters there, for he does not. But he simply has an all consuming apathy which has drained his soul. There is no pride or purpose in his role, anyone could do it and all he accomplishes during a really really good day on the task is not pissing people off, a job he was perfectly capable of doing without wearing a silly shirt or being confined to a color coded prison 8 hours a day.
But his dreary and dull day was soon to come to a somber twist when he spied a familiar blonde haired man idley walking through the aisles.
"Lee!" Tyler called out, holding his hand up and stepping forward "Why are you here, don't you and Cari have some local theater to patronize or swan boat to waste an afternoon on?"
Lee gave a hollow smile to his friend, brushing a hand through his silky hair, Tyler was not able to supress the urge to envy him each time he saw that the angel had not aged a day in the years they had known one another. "Ah, I am merely checking on you. I may have had a fleeting feeling that you required my presence today."
The way that Lee spoke never failed to irk Tyler, the lazy carefree happiness, even when hollow and forced like this, was just frustrating. It did concern him, though, that there was the hollowness "...Lee. Why are you here?" he repeated, with a harshly serious tone.
Lee gave the look of a guilty puppy, before grabbing his friend's wrist and dragging him at a furiously fast pace that Tyler struggled to keep up with. "Tamara asked me to come down." he stated flatly, "your phone must be in the break room again--- and this is important. Too important for us to call the store." Lee said, more of his playful tone fading with every moment that passed.
Something about the atmosphere made Tyler go pale. A premonition of something bad was biting at him and the less Lee made theatrics of the event, the more severe he was sure it would be.
At last, the two of them reached the break room and Tyler B-lined to his jacket, where he retrieved the cell phone. Lee backed off a step, bowing his head, as Tyler opened it up to see the onslaught of messages that had been left for him. His heart was stopping in his chest already as with baited breath he listened to the first voice mail.
Lee watched in subdued agony as his best friend's eyes dilated, a gulp froze midway down his throat and his skin visibly paled to the most ghostly white.
"I'm so sorry, Tyler..." he said in an unguarded voice, walking to his friend and putting a hand to his shoulder.
Tyler had no response. He did not drop the phone, even after the message had finished, he starred vacantly, the corners of his eyes stinging with tears. He felt worthless, full of shock and struck in the heart. Through this haze, he was pulled straight into the denim of Lee's jacket as the taller man tightly hugged him.
"Tamara and Cari are waiting for you--- you wont be alone." he said, his voice still lacking the distinctive joy that made it so familiar.
Tyler's thoughts were finally starting to seep through the shellshocked haze, and he was finally able to process the situation. Amberleigh, his charge and adopted sister, was dead. Murdered at her job, quite possibly by anti-power extremists. She was young, she was happy. He had watched her grow. He was the one who brought her to the city. He helped her with her new identity. Helped her through medschool. And in a single day, in a single phonecall, she was gone.
Never to see her angelic smile again. Never to be subject to her passionate rants again. Never to comfort after a date gone bad or to praise on a tricky diagnosis made before it became a problem.
The sudden surge of emotion that filled the emptiness was so much that he wanted to buckle to the floor and throw up, he wanted to cry until tears stopped coming. He wanted to punch everything in sight until his knuckles were raw.
But instead he just limply rested in Lee's hug, his eyes which were an hour ago just a hollow reflection of faded glory, were now shrink wrapped with dry tears which could only pinch at the sides of his eyes.
Lee was visibly uncomfortable. Just as unfamiliar with this situation as Tyler was, he too had never had to deal with grief like this. He searched in vein for words to fill the silence, but none felt appropriate. In the end, it was not his voice that broke the silence, but the buzzing of the phone which still hung open in Tyler's weak grip.
This was enough to snap him from his brief moment of weakness, and he straightened up, gulping in his sorrow and putting on his bravado to answer clearly "It's Tyler. What's happenening?"
The voice on the other end of the line was a deep and slow voice, which spoke in a fairly mototone fashion, "Tyler. It's Ken Ellis... I need to speak to you."
Ken Ellis, a reporter for Sega City's largest newspaper, The Voice. In the days before the power ban, he was the correspondant for incidents and stories involving powered individuals. Since then, he has been sticking to covering crime stories.
"It's about Amberleigh, isn't it?" Tyler asked, attempting to feign some drive in his voice, but it came out as empty as his feelings.
There was a grunt of agreement over the phone, before the reporter continued "I will be visiting crime scene soon. Thought you'd like to see. Come to hospital, we will meet you there." and the line went dead. Ken was never one to waste words and was less of a person to make liberal use of emotions.
The idea of finding out what happened, was enough of an enticement for Tyler, though. He was already suspicious due to everyone's careful wording and lack of details, but Ken's use of the term "crime scene" was enough to prove to his mind that Amberleigh was attacked, and that gave him focus to work through the grief.
A new fire in his eyes, he pushed past Lee and stormed out, ripping off his nametag and taking a heavy stride. "Lee, I'm going to the hospital." he stated firmly, without looking back.
Lee sighed, deflated, while watching his friend storm his way into a heap of trouble. Tamara would probably kill him for letting him go through with this, and Tyler would kill him if he tried to stop him. "What is a man to do...?" he idley asked the empty break room, as he suddenly took pursuit.
-
Her name is Dr. Vivian Dawn. She is a resident doctor at Sega City General Hospital and is well on the way to climbing the ladder, her pears regard her selfless dedication to saving life and her unquestionable skill at doing so with peerless admiration. She'd started working for the hospital as a early as sixteen years old, but back in those days she was famous amongst staff for a different reason and under a different name.
Back then, her name was Amberleigh Anderson, though many saw her as a Nightingale angel who was blessed with the ability to cure any person she prayed for, and during her brief three year reign as a nurse at the hospital, she was responsible for saving the lifes of hundreds of thousands of people who were lucky enough to recieve her care.
Those days are over now. Ended when a law was passed banning the existance of individuals with special abilities and powers in Sega City. Years of in-fighting, powered terrorism and "heroic" activity had pushed the public to a breaking point, and in their desperation a cure was created, a cure capable of supressing the abilities of 99% of the population forever. And upon it's completition, it was only a matter of months before the cure became a legal mandate for all people, any who were guilty of dodging the needle would be imprisoned for life.
Amberleigh, or Vivian as she now called herself, was one of the 1% of people who slipped through the cracks. She did not have "powers" persay. Unlike the typical person who the laws were born to combat, she was not born with her abilities and was not infact born in the world she now calls home at all. Her healing touch literally did come from prayers. Growing up, she was to be a high priestess of a religion which drew power from a realm of angels and had extensive training in the spells that they used, which mostly encompassed healing magic.
As the power supression serum would not take away her ability to cast these spells, she was forced to go into hiding for she had gained far too much attention as the miracle healer of Sega City General. From there she dyed her hair auburn, took on a new name and using faked identification and doctored grades, attended medical school to become a real doctor. Her philosophy on life was that if the people of the city would not allow her to heal them with her spells, then she would not stop attempting to heal them with her sheer force of will.
She could have moved to another town. She could have been revered as the miracle healer of a thousand cities. But she stayed. She stayed for duty. She stayed for family. For better or for worse, she strived, grew and she stayed.
And this is how Vivian Dawn was able to walk through the halls of the hospital with a confident step. All in all, life was not too hard. Without the temptation to heal at a touch, she was more driven in her endevours. Victories felt like victories and defeat made her feel defeated, and through her lengthy training at med-school, she loosened up, became socially lubricated, expanded a tree of friendships and even relationships. She was living a full and hapy life without complaints.
A life which was soon to come to an abrupt and unflattering end.
It was only 3pm on a Sunday afternoon when she flipped open a chart for a patient of whom she was due to check on. The name was Sandra Parks, an older lady pushing 60 who was suffering heavily from some seasonly influenza, not exactly the most hospital worthy case in the world, but being the overly caring doctor she was, "Vivian" forced a smile to her face and opened the door, wondering why the name seemed so familiar.
The woman sitting up in her bed seemed just as any older lady would, her hair was a little scraggy, but still a faint dirty blonde and she wore a tired smile which gave the implication that the owner was not used to the action. Before Vivian could open her mouth to introduce herself, the woman had looked to her, wiry smile turning into a full out grin, as she cheerfully said "Hello Amberleigh." in a slow and ominous voice.
Vivian's heart froze in her chest, the memory rushed back to her. She was a fool to forget the name, for it was the name of someone in the past who had been a sworn enemy, the one who was currently at the forefront of the war against powered individuals; Sandra Parks, a woman who's son was killed via colleteral in a super powered struggle over 15 years ago. A woman took it upon herself to make sure none suffer like her son did, even if it means causing absoloute suffering to anyone from the side of the fence Amberleigh sat on.
Before doctor Dawn could react or retreat, the door was closed and locked. A stalky man with darkened bags under his eyes and mussy brown hair was hidden in it's shadow and now stepped out towards the doctor slowly, it took Vivian no time at all to take notice of the switchblade he was weilding and the absoloute ice chill in his eyes as he approached.
"Tell me dear..." Sandra asked slowly from behind the doctor, still weilding a wicked smile upon her face "Does your healing power work on yourself?"
Vivian's hands reached to the bedside table and in her desperation clasped around a ceramic mug which she swung at her aggressor with an angry yell, but her panicked motion yeilded no positive results and the cold eyed assassin grabbed her arm and swung her into a headlock, giving Amberleigh Anderson one final look at the relentlessly evil grin of a feable, biggotted woman with no remorse or care for human life.
As the switchblade's cool edge meet the edge of her neck, she wondered for the first time if this fate was worth all of the lives she had strived so hard to save. With one final thought to her beloved guardian and "brother", she smiled back at the evil hag, even as the blade slit across her throat, and decided that no fate could take away the pride she felt for her good deeds. The only only regret she held in her 32 years of life was that she could have save more.
-
His name is Tyler Dawn. He is a floor manager at a franchise book store in the center of Sega City and holds no hopes or aspirations of climbing ladders or making transfers, The college kids they hire for the registers think of him as a stuffy grouchy hardass with no empathy for their needs and wants, his superiors feel he is talented but unmotivated. He started the job about 15 years ago, as a cashier, when he was 25 years old after resisting the neccessity of work for the entirety of his existance. Back in those days, however, he had little need for a weekly wage or low paid job.
Back then, his name was Stressed Bayfield. A lone spirit who was born from the dreams and desires of a child who was carried away with his imagination. He was able to forge himself entirely into an individual and a formidable warrior, expert with shortswords and skilled at wind based magic. In his lifetime he had battled in wars, saved lives and fought in epic battles.
Since the ban on powered people, he was forced underground with the rest of his family. His girlfriend and her sisters took a new residence in the city with new jobs and new identities. His brother and his wife and child left in search of a more tollerable situation, far from the legal hastles the city brought.
It seemed the old days of excitement were over, and now as he stands in the middle of the history aisle, his eyes lack a fire that his younger self once carried. His hair is losing it's color and the parting is showing signs of receeding. He is getting older. It's undeniable.
As a younger man, he was certain his spirit was immortal, that he would remain young and powerful for all of time, but the ever present force had impressed itself upon him and now he found himself unwillingly buckling to the years.
But life was not all bad for Tyler. Even if the times had changed and time was starting to show it's toll on him, there would always remain certain familiar comforts which would soften the harshness of reality. For one, he still lived with his beloved Tamara, girlfriend for over 17 years and both of her sisters Cari and Navi. But most importantly, his best friend Lee Cypher, boyfriend of Cari, lived with them for all of their time in hiding.
Only Lee was able to maintain his original identity, as a low scale rock scale at local venues. Everyone else was forced to adopt new identities, personas and even make-overs to conceal their true nature. Lee, however, was close enough to a human that he was able to operate in the open, with none knowing he was a half-angel from the same world as Tyler's "sister" Amberleigh.
The thought of the adventure was enough to bring a sad smile to Tyler's face. It all happened 17 years ago, when Stressed Bayfield left the world in search of his individuality. What he found was two kindred spirits, one was the half-angel who became his best friend, and the other was a young priestess who was being bred as a sacrifice for her religion. Through his actions, Tyler saved the girl and brought her back to his world where she began a life for him, looking at her savior as an older brother who would always look out for him.
His actions also brought the land of Saygrem close to an all consuming civil war and a neigh on masacre which would have stained his soul forever. But those stories are buried in the past now, and the floor manager who stares emptily at the clock waiting for his shift to be over finds no solace in retreating to them.
It was mid-afternoon, the clock was edging towards the 3:40 point and his shift was not due to end for another two hours. Heaving a sigh, he paced around the empty aisles, watching for his coworkers to see who he could ask to realphabetize yet another stack of books which had not been touched by human hands for weeks.
Being a central city location, it's main clientelle was freeloading office workers on their lunchbreaks who spent more money at the coffee bar than they did reading the books which they flicked through each day. Had he any pride or passion in either his job or the dull blue "Noble Borders" shirt with the "Hi My Name Is Tyler" tag, he may have seen this as a problem, but boredom was a far easier demon to slay than aggressive consumers who demand we open up the "non-dogeared" magazine stacks from the back which we must keep for self-important people who simply must have a mint condition copy of People magazine, it being the collectors item it is.
It's not that he had distain for his job or the people he encounters there, for he does not. But he simply has an all consuming apathy which has drained his soul. There is no pride or purpose in his role, anyone could do it and all he accomplishes during a really really good day on the task is not pissing people off, a job he was perfectly capable of doing without wearing a silly shirt or being confined to a color coded prison 8 hours a day.
But his dreary and dull day was soon to come to a somber twist when he spied a familiar blonde haired man idley walking through the aisles.
"Lee!" Tyler called out, holding his hand up and stepping forward "Why are you here, don't you and Cari have some local theater to patronize or swan boat to waste an afternoon on?"
Lee gave a hollow smile to his friend, brushing a hand through his silky hair, Tyler was not able to supress the urge to envy him each time he saw that the angel had not aged a day in the years they had known one another. "Ah, I am merely checking on you. I may have had a fleeting feeling that you required my presence today."
The way that Lee spoke never failed to irk Tyler, the lazy carefree happiness, even when hollow and forced like this, was just frustrating. It did concern him, though, that there was the hollowness "...Lee. Why are you here?" he repeated, with a harshly serious tone.
Lee gave the look of a guilty puppy, before grabbing his friend's wrist and dragging him at a furiously fast pace that Tyler struggled to keep up with. "Tamara asked me to come down." he stated flatly, "your phone must be in the break room again--- and this is important. Too important for us to call the store." Lee said, more of his playful tone fading with every moment that passed.
Something about the atmosphere made Tyler go pale. A premonition of something bad was biting at him and the less Lee made theatrics of the event, the more severe he was sure it would be.
At last, the two of them reached the break room and Tyler B-lined to his jacket, where he retrieved the cell phone. Lee backed off a step, bowing his head, as Tyler opened it up to see the onslaught of messages that had been left for him. His heart was stopping in his chest already as with baited breath he listened to the first voice mail.
Lee watched in subdued agony as his best friend's eyes dilated, a gulp froze midway down his throat and his skin visibly paled to the most ghostly white.
"I'm so sorry, Tyler..." he said in an unguarded voice, walking to his friend and putting a hand to his shoulder.
Tyler had no response. He did not drop the phone, even after the message had finished, he starred vacantly, the corners of his eyes stinging with tears. He felt worthless, full of shock and struck in the heart. Through this haze, he was pulled straight into the denim of Lee's jacket as the taller man tightly hugged him.
"Tamara and Cari are waiting for you--- you wont be alone." he said, his voice still lacking the distinctive joy that made it so familiar.
Tyler's thoughts were finally starting to seep through the shellshocked haze, and he was finally able to process the situation. Amberleigh, his charge and adopted sister, was dead. Murdered at her job, quite possibly by anti-power extremists. She was young, she was happy. He had watched her grow. He was the one who brought her to the city. He helped her with her new identity. Helped her through medschool. And in a single day, in a single phonecall, she was gone.
Never to see her angelic smile again. Never to be subject to her passionate rants again. Never to comfort after a date gone bad or to praise on a tricky diagnosis made before it became a problem.
The sudden surge of emotion that filled the emptiness was so much that he wanted to buckle to the floor and throw up, he wanted to cry until tears stopped coming. He wanted to punch everything in sight until his knuckles were raw.
But instead he just limply rested in Lee's hug, his eyes which were an hour ago just a hollow reflection of faded glory, were now shrink wrapped with dry tears which could only pinch at the sides of his eyes.
Lee was visibly uncomfortable. Just as unfamiliar with this situation as Tyler was, he too had never had to deal with grief like this. He searched in vein for words to fill the silence, but none felt appropriate. In the end, it was not his voice that broke the silence, but the buzzing of the phone which still hung open in Tyler's weak grip.
This was enough to snap him from his brief moment of weakness, and he straightened up, gulping in his sorrow and putting on his bravado to answer clearly "It's Tyler. What's happenening?"
The voice on the other end of the line was a deep and slow voice, which spoke in a fairly mototone fashion, "Tyler. It's Ken Ellis... I need to speak to you."
Ken Ellis, a reporter for Sega City's largest newspaper, The Voice. In the days before the power ban, he was the correspondant for incidents and stories involving powered individuals. Since then, he has been sticking to covering crime stories.
"It's about Amberleigh, isn't it?" Tyler asked, attempting to feign some drive in his voice, but it came out as empty as his feelings.
There was a grunt of agreement over the phone, before the reporter continued "I will be visiting crime scene soon. Thought you'd like to see. Come to hospital, we will meet you there." and the line went dead. Ken was never one to waste words and was less of a person to make liberal use of emotions.
The idea of finding out what happened, was enough of an enticement for Tyler, though. He was already suspicious due to everyone's careful wording and lack of details, but Ken's use of the term "crime scene" was enough to prove to his mind that Amberleigh was attacked, and that gave him focus to work through the grief.
A new fire in his eyes, he pushed past Lee and stormed out, ripping off his nametag and taking a heavy stride. "Lee, I'm going to the hospital." he stated firmly, without looking back.
Lee sighed, deflated, while watching his friend storm his way into a heap of trouble. Tamara would probably kill him for letting him go through with this, and Tyler would kill him if he tried to stop him. "What is a man to do...?" he idley asked the empty break room, as he suddenly took pursuit.
CRAIG !!!! come on man! write some more.
i feel like a very important part is coming up, can't wait! <pulls
craig's arm> keep typing! more, more!
