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Ask to Join The Cold Nights of Caldwell

Caldwell, New Jersey is a nice little town situated in Northern New Jersey. Nice little shops sit on the nice little streets illuminated by nice little street lamps. Nice little people visit these nice little shops on the nice little streets illuminated by nice little street lamps.

A screech.

The nice little people glance up, taking a break from their nice little lives, and see a man beating a woman in a grimy little alley between nice little stores. They quickly turn away, and go along with their day.

Such sights are not uncommon in Caldwell, New Jersey. You see, for the residents to believe their nice little town is truly nice, they must look past all of the evil within.

These crimes go nearly unpunished. Police officers only intervene if it is absolutely- or if it will bring negative attention to their nice little town. So, crime is rampant in Caldwell, New Jersey. But some people are willing to tear down their hazy view of their town, and see it for the filth it is. Many of these people flee. A few stay, feeling that it is their responsibility to help.

The ones who stay help in a few ways. Some join the police force and try to make a change. Some work as private eyes. Some even moonlight as vigilantes. This is a story about the heroes of Caldwell, New Jersey, and their struggle to save the city from itself.

Neat intro, right? If you want in, follow this link

RP:

Adrian Pelts looked up as sunlight flooded the dim room. He tried to keep it as bright as possible inside his little office, but a tiny lamp could only do so much.

"Adrian Pelts," Adrian said, standing up to extend a hand.

"I know," the woman nodded.

"Figures," Adrian smiled, sitting back down, "What do you need, ma'am?"

The woman rolled up the sleeves of her gray hoodie to reveal dark bruises.

"Who?" Adrian asked, curtly.

"I don't know. That's why I came to you."

"Figures," Adrian said again.

"Earlier today, I was over by the grocery store. You know, Jem's? Well, I was going to buy some bread and milk, you know? But then some guy pulled me to the side, you know?"

Adrian pursed his lips, ready for to her to let up on the 'you know's.

"He started by yanking the cash from my pockets. He hit me a lot. Then, he turned me around, to you know-"

"Yes I know," Adrian interrupted.

"I kicked him real hard," she said, proudly, "With my shoe, you-"

"Yes I know," Adrian repeated.

"Anyhow, I hit him in the shin real hard, and took off."

"May I see your shoe?" Adrian inquired. She complied, and placed her foot on Adrian's rickety desk. She was wearing Vans high tops. Adrian sketched a rough draft of the treads.

"You hit him on the shin? Which one?"

"How'm I to know?" the woman shrugged.

"What part of the foot did you kick him with?"

"Toe."

"Hard?"

"Hard," the woman confirmed.

"What'd he look like?"

"Tall. Kinda like you. But chubbier. Especially in the arms. They stretched his sleeves. And his hands felt weird on me. I remember that. It's weird what things you remember, and what things you forget, you know?"

"Indeed," Adrian nodded. He stood up, and escorted the woman out of his office after taking her name and number. Isabel Rose. He promised to get back to her.
 

Fire Mana

Previously Top_Smug_
"Let's go you damn morons!"

The trio of masked figures sprinted out of the building. All three wore dark outfits with guns in their hands, and they each hauled a burlap sack over their shoulders. The pitter-patter of their footsteps filled the alley, onlookers helpless to do anything in the face of the group with their guns.

A shrill voice cried out. "Somebody! Please!"

However, when the woman behind the shriek looked back, a cloaked figure was standing over the battered bodies of the robbers. All three had been severely beaten, and were barely hanging onto consciousness. They had been tied up, and their weapons had been thrown to the side. Then, just as quickly as he arrived, the dark figure vanished into the alleyways.
 
Adrian stared down the alley. Steam hissed from a pipe running down the side of the Tailor's Shop that sat next to Jem's Grocery Store. He saw a few loose pieces of concrete that had come loose from the sidewalk. Adrian kicked one of the stray pebbles, bouncing it against the hard wall of the shop.

Adrian crouched, and examined the ground on a closer level. There was nothing of too much information...

Oh! Adrian pulled a latex glove from his khaki slacks, and stretched it over his right hand. He reached down, and picked up the stub of a cigarette. Teeth marks were ground into one end. He smiled to himself, and produced a neatly folded Ziploc bag from his other pocket. He tossed the snub in the bag, sealed it, and continued searching the ground.

Finding nothing else of substance, he headed back to his office. He figured the cigarette wouldn't have any saliva matter that belonged to the perp. What kind of mugger smoked on the job? But perhaps he could get something else from it. It was the only thing he had found- so he'd have to make it work.
 
Seated on the wrong side of a desk, an unsmiling blonde woman faced an older, taller man that was standing over her, obviously of superior rank. Even from her lower position, however, the young woman met his eyes and didn't look away.

"Officer Harlowe," the tall man began, both as a greeting and as a warning. This isn't the first time she's been here. It's almost routine, by now, between them.

"Yes, sir." She was secretly proud of her unwavering voice, its tone not betraying her nervousness at being alone with her Captain looking down his nose at her like she was some insubordinate child.

"This is your... third case of assault this month, am I wrong?"

"Sir, I was actually preventing an assault. Again. I called for backup-"

"And wasted the time of your fellow officers, too. You're lucky the man doesn't want to press charges, or I'd have you under suspension. You ID this 'mystery victim' of the assault?"

"Er," at this, she paused with a slight grimace. "I only saw a small figure, like a thin woman or a teenager. Probably. They ran when I yelled."

"Right," he said, looking like a headache was coming on. Of course, that would've been her only witness. It was her word against a guy without a criminal record, and hardly anyone in Caldwell had a record, so there was that. "Your job is to get out there and make people feel safe. Walk the beat. Not play hero and take down everybody who you think is suspicious." He sighed, his stern demeanor softening a fraction. "Jesus, you look bruised as all hell. Get checked out by a doctor. Take the rest of the day off, and come in tomorrow with a smile."

Harlowe gritted her teeth as she finally exited the office. Caldwell PD's few employees purposely avoided eye contact with her as they milled about with their paperwork. On the far side of the room, she met the gaze of the man she'd seen assault the stranger earlier, probably there to file the report reserved for victims. He gave a smile through a bruised cheek and a small wave, and Harlowe scoffed. She didn't return it. The guy was scum, but such things were almost always ignored, as though her word meant next to nothing. She wasn't the only one, of course; most of Caldwell's Finest™ became disillusioned soon after they found out that the town's law wasn't on their side. Join them if you couldn't beat them, Harlowe supposed, but even after a few years she couldn't do so. To be fair, though, even if she had been guilty of attacking an innocent person, it would've been odd for her to simply be let off with a warning. Again. So, it worked both ways. Not exactly a happy thought.

Exiting the station, she took a left towards her apartment. It was downtown, within walking distance, so she considered stopping along the way for coffee or even a bite to eat. She'd huffed at the Captain's suggestion to see a doctor for a few bruises. As if.
 
Adrian slid the green button on his phone to the side, answering a call coming through.

"Adrian Pelts," he introduced himself.

"I know," the woman on the other end scoffed.

"You again," Adrian said.

"Yes, me," the woman said.

"New information for me?" Adrian asked.

"Yeah. So, the cops, you know?"

"Of course I know the cops," Adrian sighed.

"Well they caught the perv," the woman said, happily, "Looks like everything's okay! He'll be sent to jail!"

"Let's hope so," Adrian nodded, "Have a nice day, Miss-"

"Elliot."

"Elliot," Adrian said, ending the call. He stood back up from his desk, and tossed the bag with the cigarette into the trash. He picked a small piece of fuzz off of his blue sweater before heading to get something for lunch. He decided on The Spider, a local restaurant that served wonderful sandwiches.

The chilled air embraced Adrian as he left his office. He glanced up the gray sky, wishing for the clouds to disperse. No use. Adrian sighed, and finally made it to The Spider.
 
Harlowe figured that she could use a treat, and decided on a small restaurant not far from her apartment. The Spider was a quaint little place, like most places in Caldwell, with friendly staff and a savory-smelling atmosphere. She wouldn't call herself a regular, but she knew it pretty well, mostly because she couldn't cook worth a damn. Besides, dining was simply more convenient, and she was too exhausted to pass up convenience. She took a seat near the door and loosed the collar of her uniform as she placed her order with the young waitress.

She'd been told to take the day off, but idle minds were the devil's workshop, and all that. She flipped through a report she'd copied-slash-borrowed from the desk across from hers earlier in the day as some 'light reading material,' as she would call it. From the looks of it, the case was the result of another vigilante. And not just any, she knew of this one fairly well. While vigilantes seemed to crop up through Caldwell regularly, according to her memory of the reports this one had been working at it for at least four or five years. Harlowe found it odd that the police had opened an investigation into a vigilante rather than some of the other things she'd witnessed, but it should hardly come as a surprise by now.

A bell clinked as the door opened, and she looked up out of habit. The man who walked in looked a bit older than her, and perhaps a little familiar, but she couldn't place him. He looked too professional to be a tourist, so she figured she'd seen him in passing on her beat.
 
Adrian noticed a young woman as he was entering The Spider. He recognized her immediately. Rebecca Harlowe. She was one of the only cops who gave a damn. He smiled and walked over.

"Morning, Miss Harlowe," Adrian smiled, eyeing her paper. The headlines were spouting news about a vigilante. No, not a vigilante. The vigilante. This vigilante had been making headlines for years. Others tried, but none measured up to the first vigilante.
 

Fire Mana

Previously Top_Smug_
Parker went to the Spider most nights after a successful hunt. Work as a vigilante was tough, so he often came to refuel himself after a long day. He hid his weapons before entering, the gun thrown into a secret pocket on the inside of his jacket and his blade was retractable and had been stored in a separate pocket.

He walked in and sat down at the bar. Ordering his usual, green tea with a simple pastry, he noticed the news on the paper.

"Hell of a crime stopper, huh? He's working harder than the police are!" The man reading the paper next to him let out a hardy laugh.

Say that too loud and you might get some trouble from them...
 
The man said her name, and it stirred her memory. Ah, she had crossed paths with him through work, but it was because he was a PI, not a civilian. He was good, too. How could she forget?

"Morning, Mister..." she searched her mind for a name. "Pelts, right?" Harlowe held her palm out to the seat in front of her, an invitation for him to sit down at her table. She could use the distraction. "Haven't seen you around in a while. Any interesting jobs keeping you busy?"

Before the blonde could say much more, however, another man walked through the door, especially noticeable due to his attire. Wearing heavy dark clothes from head to toe wasn't illegal, of course, but it roused suspicion at the back of her mind. He sat beside a rather talkative older man who had something to say about the same headline she'd read, and she grimaced as she overheard it.

He was right, it was pretty laughable, but Harlowe couldn't help but be slightly offended on behalf of her job.

"I'm sure it's easy when you're not bound by bureaucracy," she tossed over her shoulder in response.
 

Fire Mana

Previously Top_Smug_
The man laughed again, he was practically challenging her.

"Officer Harlowe, right? You best keep your damn trap shut. This vigilante is gonna be taking your job soon enough."

Parker sighed and took a sip of his tea. Both the officer and the man next to him were testing his patience.

"I really don't think this vigilante is looking to steal anybody's jobs, probably just doing what he thinks is right."

He finished off his drink, setting the cup back down on the counter. He fished for his wallet, putting a 5 and a 10 down next to his cup.

"Keep the change, I'll be leaving now."
 
Adrian raised an eyebrow. The stalker-looking man had been in and out of there in a flash. He, Officer Harlowe, and another man had gotten into a quick conversation about the vigilante. Then, the stalker-looking man had rushed out.

Adrian had a few thoughts about the vigilante. Most of them were good. He protected the city when the cops did not, just like Adrian did! The only problem Adrian had with the vigilante was his excessive violence. Adrian saved the city through intellect and strategy, while the vigilante solved his problems with punches and bullets. Of course, Adrian tended to pack heat himself. It would be stupid not to. But when engaged, Adrian would only fight to survive, not to send a message. If he could incapacitate his assailant, then he could detain them. He could handle intense situations without going over the top.

"Well," Adrian said, recomposing himself, "That was... something."

A waitress came by and took his order. He politely requested a Reuben, then returned his focus to Harlowe.

"Miss Harlowe, a man was arrested today for attempting to mug and rape a woman," Adrian said, then lowered his voice, "You and I both know he's going to get away scot free. I want to know everything relevant about him, so I can keep tabs on him for a while and make sure he doesn't try to do the same to anyone else."

Obviously, Adrian realized there was a slim chance Harlowe knew anything about this man. He'd only been brought in a little bit earlier. But it was worth a shot.
 
Harlowe stiffened at the crass words spoken by the guy at the bar. Her captain would have her ass if she tore into a guy here, especially one who wasn't actually doing any real harm. People tended to be sore at cops, considering most of them were simply for decoration around here. Guy had probably been a victim himself, once upon a time. To her momentary relief, the dark-clad man intervened, though, leaving a bit of an awkward silence in his wake. She had a strange feeling she'd be seeing him again.

Pelts turned back to her and got to business, laying the situation out between them. While Harlowe was the type who hated to leave things unfinished and leave the guy to someone else, it made sense to give Adrian any information she had. She definitely didn't want to be the one called to the creep's next crime scene. It looked like she had to pass this one on. She took a sip of black coffee from the chipped mug in her hands and thought back.

"The name he gave for the report was Marcus Jackson, but we both know that may or may not be a real name," she told him. "If you go looking for him, keep an eye out for a guy with a nice bruise on his cheek; he got a little friendly with the asphalt. Else, all I can say is the attack took place just a few blocks west of here, in the alleyway between the Sunset apartment complex and Giovanni's restaurant, if I'm not mistaken."

She paused. After a moment, she took the memo pad from her breast pocket and scribbled her cell number. "Keep me involved, alright? If there's anything I can do to help you catch the bastard, let me know. I'm no detective, but I'll do what I can. I'm sick of guys like this."
 
"Aren't we all?" Adrian sighed, taking the tiny note, folding it, and sliding it into his pocket, "You'll be the first one I call if Mr. Jackson pops up on my radar again."

A fresh Reuben was set down in front of him. He smiled and picked it up, taking a large chomp out of it.

"So how've you been?" Adrian asked, just wanting to catch up, "Last time I saw you was when I was working on the Neill case."

Zachariah Neill had been a high-profile drug dealer that had caught wind of the lawlessness of Caldwell, and set up business in the town. He sold a drug nicknamed "HOH", or Head Over Heels. It got you so high that you loved everyone and everything in the world. It managed to invade all corners of Caldwell. It caught Adrian's attention, and he used resources to bring Neill down. Harlowe had provided him with some information that other cops denied him.
 
The memory made Harlowe chuckle into her drink. That'd been quite the case. Much like today, she hadn't had the authority to do much damage on her own, but she was glad that at least her knowlege had been of use.

"Thanks for that, by the way. Anyway, I've been worse. Got sent off early today because of this Jackson case. Turns out I used 'excessive force' during the arrest," she said with a shake of her head. She hadn't realized that her grip on her coffee mug had been tightening, so she relaxed her hands. "And you? I've heard you've been making a name for yourself around town with the work you do."
 
"I sure hope not," Adrian said, "If I made news, it'd make incognito work harder."

Adrian wiped some crumbs from his lips. Then he glanced sidelong at the newspaper.

"So you're not a fan of the vigilante?" Adrian grinned.
 
Harlowe rolled her eyes, but there was humor in the expression. Ah, the masked crusaders running around town, stopping crime in whatever way they saw fit. Fine, of course, until a civilian or two were to get in the way.

"I guess you could say that. Maybe I was just brought up to believe that you can't take shortcuts when it comes to this sort of thing," she mused. "But I can admit that I can see why someone would be tempted. And that not all of them are terrible for the city. Still."
 
Adrian finished his Reuben at the speed of light. He stood up and smiled at Officer Harlowe.

"I should be going," Adrian said, thumbing through is wallet to find two tens. He laid the cash on the table. Harlowe could cover any remaining costs.

Adrian had nowhere to be, he just hated idling after he'd finished a job. At lunch, his job had been eating a fantastic Reuben and getting info on Marcus Jackson. Mission accomplished. Adrian strolled out of the restaurant, and over to the Sunset apartments.
 
A man in a hood was perched on the roof of a building, surveying the scene. Another man in a cloak had taken out three armed robbers with astounding speed and disappearing as fast as he had arrived. Dylan chuckled to himself. Impressive. However, his admiration for the vigilante was cut short as he heard a gunsho-- nope, make that several gunshots, most likely from a rapid-fire gun. His head snapped to the direction of the sound and saw a masked man armed with an AK-47 shooting into a bank and storming in. Dylan sighed and unsheathed his swords before jumping off the building. Time to go to work.

He arrived through the back door of the bank and quickly studied his surroundings. The alarm was blaring, though it was unlikely the police would decide to intervene. Suddenly, the robber burst through the vault with a duffel bag filled up to the top with cash, clearly surprised to see the vigilante in front of him. He let out a yell of surprise and took out his firearm, spraying into Dylan's general area. Dylan quickly dashed behind a counter for cover before sheathing one of his swords and brandishing one of his daggers, flinging it at the robber's left leg with deadly precision. The gun stopped firing as the robber cursed in pain and yanked the dagger out, throwing it on the ground and gripping his leg. The time it took him to do so was more than enough for Dylan. The vigilante lunged from his hiding spot and snatched up the dagger, slashing once at the robber's right tendon, crippling his movement and any chance of escape. Dylan then spun and aimed a powerful right hook at the robber's jaw, knocking him out instantly. He then dragged him to an alleyway between the police station and another building, leaving him there for one of the officers to pick up. Dylan sheathed his blades and pulled his hood over his head before retreating into the shadows.
 
"Of course. It was good to see you again, Detective," Harlowe replied in kind. She paid for her own food and drink as well, leaving a fair tip for the waitress, before exiting the building as well. As she walked out into the chilled air, however, the familiar sound of rapid gunshots in the distance caught her attention. Her heart rate immediately increased, only to do so further as an alarm began to shriek. It was coming from the direction she'd left, near the police station. Was that...the bank? She couldn't simply ignore it, of course, so she hurried in that direction with a curse under her breath.

It took a few minutes on foot, but Caldwell National Bank finally loomed into view. Normally, it would seem laughably stupid for criminals to rob a bank just down the street from a police station. Caldwell, on the other hand, wasn't exactly normal, and by the time Harlowe reached the scene, it was all over. In fact, she hadn't even made it to the bank; the culprit had essentially been hand-delivered to their doorstep.

Even though the culprit was silent in his state of unconsciousness, he was easy to find. Not only was fresh blood was smeared on the concrete where the criminal had been dragged without mercy, but several other officers had gathered at the alleyway's mouth to check out the commotion. No one stepped forward to claim responsibility or even to help the bleeding man, reluctant to get involved.

Such a messy scene pointed to another vigilante case, then, and a vicious one at that. A headache began to throb behind her eyes. And she got chewed out for leaving a few bruises? Please.

Harlowe quickly removed her cell phone from her pocket and dialed the emergency number for the hospital, giving her identification and warning them that he was a suspect in a violent crime. She almost forgot to mention the possible injuries at the bank itself, judging by the sound of the powerful weapon she'd heard earlier.

As for Harlowe, she had been hoping to be gone by the time the paramedics arrived. Since she'd been the one to make the call, however, it looked like she was stuck with paperwork. So much for the rest of the day off.
 
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