Desk Monkey for the Forces of Justice

Eraba Yoskun, age 28 is a tineye and police analyst with a fretful internal monologue. Interests include: crunching numbers, coordinating colors and discovering new ways to get tax breaks. A role play blog with Elend United

[misteranalyst-blog]

[luluwardwick]

"Survival of the fittest! I like that! I’ll have to steal that and use it next  time I explain my way of life to some one.” As Luci’s new friend (and  potential new ATM) went on a bit of a rant, she rested her arms behind her arms. This time it wasn’t because the position accentuated her her breasts (even though they looked spectacular at the moment) but because she was genuinely charmed by his behavior.

"No need to apologize, love. This is probably the most enjoyable  conversation I’ve had all night.” Or week, for that matter. Most of her customers weren’t very interested in conversation. He did seem to be jumping around a lot in terms of topics, though. But his discomfort only added to his charm in her eyes. I shouldn’t mess with him too much. She decided. "And to be honest, it’s not that difficult to find the ATM with the deepest pockets. It’s all about the details.” Her eyes scanned the room to see if any good marks were around at the moment. Aha! There’s one. She  leaned in once more before continuing. “See that guy? He’s got all  the signs. High quality clothing. Top shelf drink in hand. Comfortable and aloof attitude; like he’s too good to approach any of the girls. He knows they’ll approach him.” She paused to smile at him once more. "But, that info will only help you out if you plan on dancing for a living. Why don’t we talk about something more enjoyable?”

Without any further warning, she stood and gently pushed on her new friend’s shoulder so that he was leaning with his back against the bar. She strode out in front of him with her back to him, but turned the upper portion of her body towards him in a way that subtly put her backside on display. “What do you say to a free dance? It’s a newbie only offer, my treat.” She winked at him and hoped this wasn’t too much. She didn’t even want his money, she just wanted to watch him squirm a bit more.

[misteranalyst-blog]

Alarm bells were ringing in his head. Abort, abort, abort, abort. There had been a critical failure, somewhere, somehow along the lines of this conversation. Oh dear oh dear oh dear.

("Oh dear oh dear" was actually a highly edited version of what was going on in his head right now. There was a lot of strong language for starters. There were also some sexual thoughts going on but he was trying to quash those. Problem was, that was a little more difficult when one was tipsy.)

Grandma would not be proud of you, he admonished himself. This was actually a very effective way to throw cold water on the problem since a) grandmothers were lovely and not sexy and b) who wanted to disappoint their grandma anyway?

"I'm sorry- that is I don't think- I just- I don't think I can afford you." Rust. Rustrustrust. "That is, I do not believe an artist like yourself can be bought." There. That was better wasn't it? She was very talented and very pretty and everyone always said one couldn't buy talent. Of course, she is offering it for free... I could see a master up close...

Wait. Where was he going with this? It was very hard to remember when she was right in front of him and behaving in a way that would disappoint his grandma.

(There. He was good again.)

(Thanks Grandma.)

He took a deep breath and said very calmly, "If you want to get frisky you are going to at least going to have to get to know me first because I am not that kind of boy."

[tessalinden-blog]

   “ Yes, I am definitely well acquainted with having a busy schedule. ” She nodded,    laughing slightly. “ When it’s not graveyard shifts, it’s morning shifts, and when I    don’t even have a shift, it’s something else… like, picking up my kid, or picking up    the dry-cleaning, and it’s all very draining but, I wouldn’t trade it for the world. It’s    worth it in the end, I think, all the exhaustion. ”

   Tessa’s face lit up, as it so often did when speaking of her son. It was typical, and     pretty cheesy, she had to admit, but there wasn’t a subject more interesting to her    than Leiven. “ Leiven, is his name. And, uh, no… I do not have a cape or alis, but I    will definitely look into getting both those things. ” She paused. “ What about you?    Do you have any kids? ”

[misteranalyst-blog]

He smiled at seeing how much her boy obviously meant to her. There was something about happy families that made him feel a little better about the stuff he had to face at work.

"Me?" he laughed at her question. "No, I don't have any kids. At least not biologically but they're a pretty crazy lot down at my work. So I do know what it's like to try and coax several technically sane adults into having a proper sleep schedule and eating a  decent meal. Granted I haven't had to wipe any mouths or change any diapers yet, but you know there's a first time for everything."

He considered having a baby or child of his own to take care of, and, as it usually did gave a brief feeling of warmth before vanishing. It was too vague a day dream to sustain over any amount of time.

"I know everyone says you can't be prepared to be a parent but was it anything like you imagined?"

[antiexplosionsquad-blog-blog]

     Basil nodded along blithely as Eraba talked, the words going totally over his head. Owls were bombs. Made sense. Wait. No, no that wasn’t quite— rusted if he knew. The thought was more amusing than it should’ve been under normal circumstances. The only thing that registered in Basil’s alcohol-hazed mind was ‘You are very smart, Basil’ and that was all he had the attention span to focus on, anyway.

     ”Aw, thanks, buddy.” He melted a little. Harmony, his friends were great. Man, they were just the greatest. He loved his friends so much. He felt himself getting emotional just thinking about them. “You’re like, super smart too. And just. So great. The greatest.”

[misteranalyst-blog]

"You are also the greatest," Eraba said. This was true enough. He only made friends with the best after all. He was very elitist that way. But like, elitist in a GOOD way.

"Although," he continued with concern. "If I was really the greatest I think that I would be able to find our way out of here." He paused for an overly long moment to try and consider this predicament and see if he might possibly fix it but his mental map had been blurred by alcohol. "So maybe I'm really only the second best," he concluded. "Possibly third."

[elianecasuana]

    A faint blush rose to her cheeks at the praise, though she had no intention of trying to argue with him out of any kind of false humility. She knew she was good at this. That was half of why she kept with it. Analyzing patterns, names, and relationships, keeping track of favors and calling them in, learning where one could find the information one needed. In trying to keep herself afloat while on the run, she’d found that she really had a gift for it, and she’d gotten good.

    But… it wasn’t the kind of profession that made one very many friends among the police.

    A nervous glance shot down the hall at his question. She turned back to Eraba with a slightly hesitant look. “I mean, I know there’s probably protocol for these kinds of situations. If you have a superior officer or something that you need me to meet with to get your sources cleared or something, I can do that. But if you can keep quiet about what I really do around the others, I would definitely appreciate it.”

    Worrying her lip with her top teeth was a nervous habit, but thankfully one that only seemed to come out when she wasn’t putting on a front. Most of the time, she didn’t even realize she was doing it. “It’s just, well, I know a lot of the officers in here. They’re my regulars at Northern Park. To them, I’m the friendly barista behind the counter.”

    She gave a small sigh, shifting the coffees to her other hand as she slid her phone back into her pocket. “I just… this kind of thing isn’t exactly favored among police officers. It’s probably selfish that I don’t want to mess up my relationship with them, but I just hate the thought of them looking at me like I’m… well, like I’m an informant.”

[misteranalyst-blog]

"No, I completely see where you're coming from," Eraba said. It probably made it easier for her to take a chance on him since they didn't have a relationship at stake here. He could understand. He could also understand the attitude of the detectives and beat cops. He was removed from the action the majority of the time. He was sure most of them had seen the kind of damage an informant could do. Any prejudices they might have was not present with him. On the other hand that meant that his perspective was not as well-formed.

Am I really the right person to make this call? He took another deep breath to calm his nerves.

"I do need to clear it with the captain, but he's one of the most discreet people on the force," he assured her. "And I'll keep it quiet around the rest of them. A secret's safer when few people know it right?"

And it was true, what she said. Her coffeehouse was popular with a lot of the cops in their precinct. A lot of them would know her, and even those who knew her casually would probably have nothing but a good impression of a friendly, competent barista.

"When we go in there, just act like this is a normal coffee run and I'll do the same okay? And don't feel like you have to stick around. The sooner you're free to contact your people the sooner you can make progress here." The door to their office was just down the hall. They were going to go back in momentarily. He wanted to make sure she was ready.

[luluwardwick]

Luci stared at the man, surprise and amusement painted on her face in equal measure. Was this guy for real? Clearly, he was a little drunk. But drunk guys usually got mouthy or handsy not…polite. This was certainly something new.

In the end, amusement beat out surprise and Luci burst out into laughter. He was for real, and that made the whole situation that much more hilarious to her.

"Oh, sweetie!" She managed to say after she finally collected her -self. “Objectification is the least of my concerns, believe me.” She leaned in towards him, a bit conspiratorially, and motioned around the room. “If anything, it’s these guys you should be  worried about: I see them as nothing but ATMs.” Her tone of voice was joking, but that really was her world view: they objectified her and she objectified them, win/win (only she got the better end of the deal because she got their money).

"But thank you. For both your concern and your compliment.” She smiled somewhat seductively and didn’t lean back. “Can’t say we get many guys like you here. Any reason in particular you’re here not-objectifying us?”

[misteranalyst-blog]

Oh. Well. That seemed fair right? It was just turn-about objectification! And turn-about was fair play. It showed an ability to re-gain the upper hand in one's environment. It was the law of the jungle, the survival of the fittest.

How many cliches can I apply to the same line of thought? He considered trying to find out but that would mean being rude since he was still in the middle of a conversation. After all.

"In that case," he said in response to the ATM comment. "I think that you are winning at survival of the fittest. Because you are coming away with tangible compensation and they are leaving with sexual frustration." He took a moment to consider that rather clever (if unintentional) rhyme before focusing on her again.

"I made a friend tonight," he explained. "And he seemed kind of bored or lonely actually because he was really happy to talk come to think of it. Anyway, he said that he knew a really good place and paid my entrance fee and everything, which is very kind but, I've never been here before. I didn't know what I was getting into. But I'm sure this is a really good place!" he hastened to add. "You are really good, so I'm sure this is a good place. Oh." He paused for a moment, unsure of how that would be taken. "I'm sorry. I'm a little tipsy." He looked at her smile--oh dear, it was very pretty--and then looked around the room. "Can you tell which one is the ATM with the most cash?" he asked, referring to the patrons. Obviously. He wasn't referring to actual ATMs. Why would he be? But then again if you could tell which actual ATMs held the most cash, that would be really impressive. Like really. 

He could see his new friend on the opposite side of the room, making the proverbial rain. Eraba appeared to have been ditched. Huh.

[sinclxr]

Sinclar laughed, the smallest hint of his nerves showing in the laugh. While he didn’t feel completely put at ease—nothing could quite put him at ease in this enviroment—Sin was grateful that Eraba could make him laugh here.

Giving him a ridiculously grateful look, Sinclar nodded in agreement. “That works. Thank you, Eraba. Ah, would you like me to go out and get anything for lunch?” He wasn’t sure if the analyst had brought his own lunch from home, but if he hadn’t, Sin was free for the next half an hour.

[misteranalyst-blog]

A there it was--some more or less genuinely positive reaction. That had been what he'd been going for. Sin was usually quite the upbeat, sunny guy so to see him so unsettled unsettled Eraba as well. Well, no need to worry about that anymore. He'd given his friend an out.

"Actually yes, that would be fantastic. There's a gyro place just down the street from there; I've been thinking about a lamb one all morning. Here." He shuffled around in his pockets for a moment before coming up with the necessary doxings. "That should cover it. I'll see you back at my desk then."

[tessalinden-blog]

      “ That sounds like important work, ” she smiled, noting that he must have       loved his job from the enthusiasm with which he spoke of it. There wasn’t       much else that beat that, in Tessa’s eyes, speaking to a person who was       happy with where they were in life — or at least their careers.

                    “ Well I’ve got quite a few jobs, actually. ” Tessa started, holding out                     her hand to start listing them off, “ I’m a full-time mother, part-time                     nurse, part-time problem fixer, and occasional super hero when the                      occasion calls for it. Honestly, you’ll never meet a person who can                      pull out fifty plus cookies in the short amount of time that I can. ”

      Maybe, she was the slider. “ But, a nurse would be the more official term for       me. I work at the hospital in the first octant, and… it’s definitely something. ”

[misteranalyst-blog]

"It is pretty important," Eraba agreed, not to brag but simply to state a fact. "The emotional cost is pretty high as well. Though if you're a nurse I'm sure you would already know about that sort of thing. From the sound of it, your must keep you quite preoccupied." He reflected on the nursing students he'd known at his university; the heaviest load and the most sincere personalities. That was certainly something in her favor. He wondered what she meant by 'part time problem fixer.'

"Baking fifty cookies in no time flat would certainly make you a hit at our precinct parties and I assume with your kid's friends. Do you have a cape and go by a codename as well?" He smiled.

"What is your kid's name?" He'd forgotten at first but of course, being a parent must have been the most emotionally-challenging part of it all.

[misteranalyst-blog]

[ OH GEEZ I AM SO BEHIND ON DRAFTS EVERYONE I OWE A DRAFT I'M SO SORRY I'LL GET RIGHT ON THAT ]

[misteranalyst-blog]

luluwardwick

[elianecasuana]

    “I don’t have any more information off the top of my head, but…” She paused, considering. Berren would be making rounds tonight. She could probably get him to divert into Bechamen and sniff out leads. “Give me a second, I’ll see if I can get some strings pulled.” She stopped in the hallway, glancing around to make sure they were still alone. Then, pulling out her phone with one hand, she dialed Berren’s number.

    He picked up after only one ring, gruff voice sounding slightly annoyed on the other end of the line. "What do you want, Casuana?"  

    She rolled her eyes at his tone. “Good to hear from you too, B.” The inital, rather than his name, was a signal that she wasn’t alone and couldn’t necessarily speak openly. “I need you to look into something for me.” 

    “Don’t you ever just call me to chat?” 

    “The last time I called you ‘just to chat’ you yelled at me for disturbing you for no good reason.”

     Berren made a hmph-ing noise, like he didn’t see her point. "You’d better be paying for this. Short notice rates, too." 

     She sighed, looking to Eraba with an apologetic expression. “Do I ever not compensate you for getting me intel? Harmony… Look, I need you to look into whatever your source was for the Bechamen tip, okay? It’s important. Whatever you can dig up — location, motive, setup, personell — I’ll pay top dollar for it.” She pauses, her voice dropping quieter. “There’s a kid’s life on the line.”

    Berren went quiet for a moment. "You’re an idiot. Shoulda led with that, Casuana. Forget the short notice rate. Whatever you’ve got is fine. I’ll have something for you within the hour." 

    Eliane smiled, though she made sure it didn’t show through to her voice. Berren was gruff, short-tempered, and had the bad habit of treating her like she was still seventeen, but he really was a good person deep down. One of the few people she trusted almost completely. “Thank you. Do you need me to come down and help you investigate at all?” 

    “I’ll call you if I need you.”

    “Sounds like a plan.”

    She hung up, turning toward Eraba with a satisfied smile. “Hopefully, if my contact isn’t bragging about his abilities — which he has been known to do on occasion — I’ll have something for you within the hour.”

[misteranalyst-blog]

Wow. I guess I really am dealing with an expert here. Addressing each other with initials and everything.

He watched with interest as the entire phone conversation play out. To have someone right at her fingertips who could get the information she--they--needed... It almost makes me wonder if the police department is overlooking a valuable resource here. Just one more thing that he didn't have the time to worry about right now.

"Well, I have to admit, you certainly look like you know what you're doing," Eraba told her as she hung up. Good thing for them too, at least at the moment, but a voice in the back of his head reminded him that this competent young lady had also sold information to criminals in the past. How much damage has her information also done?

He put that thought aside as well when she told him the news. "Okay. I understand. This is amazing, Eliane. If this pans out... then it is going to do some unbelievable good, for the kid, for his family, for neighborhood safety in general." Thinking about the possibility that this case could be over soon was so tantalizing it almost made him want to cry. Oh Harmony, he was way too drained over this. Then again, what part of his job wasn't emotionally draining?

"When I go back in there," he said. "I'm going to go look again over the information we have and if I don't hear from you in exactly one hour, I'm going to tell them what you told me and they're going to check it out. I'll give you my phone number so if you hear something after an hour is up, you can call me directly." Analysts didn't go out in the field that often and he probably wouldn't be going out on this but at least he could relay any new developments.

"Is there anything else you think I should know before we go in?"

[luluwardwick]

Luci struck her final pose under the hot, flashing lights. She held it for a few moments and smiled as she was met with applause  and a good amount of doxings. With a swing of her hips, she walk -ed across the stage to flirt with a few of the patrons and accept some tips personally.

But she didn’t flirt too much. If they wanted more of her, they  could find her on the floor and pay for her fabricated affection. 

When she finally managed to get off the stage, she made a B-line for the bar. Dancing was thirsty work and the night was still young.  She needed something to to keep her loose and a little detached. "A glass of water please. And a vodka tonic. Put it on my tab." 

While the bartender got to work making her drink, Luci got to work finding her next mark. Her eyes skimmed the room and found a few guys with all the signs of potential: older, well dressed, business types; par for the course in Spikes (if not somewhat boring). But on the other side of the bar, she spotted some one different. He actually looked surprised to find himself in a gentleman’s club, if not a little uncomfortable. Oh, this could be fun. She thought before downing the water that was placed in front of her and heading towards him, drink in hand.

"Hey," She purred, sliding in to the seat next to him. "Mind if I join you? You look a little lonely."

[misteranalyst-blog]

Wait, what? 

Oh dear. Oh dear ohdearohdear. I did not come here to objectify women! he wanted to protest loudly but tipsy as he was, he realized that clearly that would be a hard sell at this point. He was, after all...here. In a place where you were supposed (for lack of a better word) to objectify women. 

Well, his foggy brain told him. You had better be polite.

"Of course you can," he said, a little more theatrically than he would've if he'd been 100% sober. "It's nice to meet you."

This was very nerve-wracking, he decided. He had never talked to a stripper before. What did they like to talk about? What was a good conversation starter? Obviously, he couldn't ask what she did for work since it was pretty obvious what she did for work. He wondered if she was into feminist rants.

"Want to know a secret?" he asked confidentially. "I did not come here to objectify women." Oops. He wasn't supposed to tell her that. Hmm. Oh! Maybe he could work it to his advantage! If she knew that he wasn't here to objectify women, maybe she wouldn't expect him to give her money. Oh. but that sounded stingy. He didn't want her to think he was a stingy person. "But I hope that you're having a very"--he said the next word slowly to make sure he pronounced it properly-- "lu-cra-tive night. You're very talented, Miss." Did that sound objectifying? Oh dear. 

[antiexplosionsquad-blog-blog]

     ”Yeah, I think just a little bit.” Basil laughed for a few moments longer than usual, a stupid grin on his face. He had a pleasant buzz going—his thoughts felt fuzzy and everything was more entertaining than usual. He clapped Eraba on the shoulder and had to grab the man a moment later to keep him from careening onto the pavement. “But isn’t it like, night vision or somethin’? Binoculars aren’t gonna do much in the dark, buddy. Just sayin’.”

     He knew it was going to launch Eraba into another tirade, more than likely, but he was even more up for it with a few drinks in him than he would be completely sober. Lucky for Eraba, Basil knew where he was going.

[misteranalyst-blog]

"Ah, but bi-noc-u-lar," Eraba said patiently. "means that they have two eyes and because they are noc-tur-nal, they do have night vision. It's binocular night vision." He smiled and patted Basil on the chest, reassuringly. " It'ssokay if you don't know this stuff, Bazzz, 'cause owls are not bombs. It's not your job to know, so you can just count on me to know all this stuff for you." He nodded as he said it because it was important for Basil to know that Eraba was not judging his intelligence just because he didn't know things about owls or any other important.

"You are very smart, Bazzil," he said just to make sure his point was driven home. Basil was very smart. You had to be very smart to work with bombs and to be a nice friend. Basil was very smart.

[misteranalyst-blog]

Text Post Meme

[ Hi, A.K. here. I'm doing it. I'm finally making a compilation of all the text posts+images. (If you don't know what I'm talking about, examples are here and here.)

Anyway, send me the link to the text post (just one please) that you want to rep your character and I'll put images to them and make the post!

Thanks guys. ]

[sinclxr]

"Received loud and clear, Mr. Analyst, sir," Sinclar tried to joke, but his fingers were still curled up in the hem of his jacket. He tried to pay attention to how the gun fired instead of the action of a gun firing and all that it entailed, before realizing that Eraba had asked him a question.

"Ah. Yes, tea sounds wonderful." He didn’t quite have words for how much he valued Eraba’s friendship.

[misteranalyst-blog]

"Excellent. At ease, Mr. Inventor," Eraba said, deliberately cheerful. "I'll give you a full report over a cuppa," he said in his best highbrow accent. "Why don't you meet me back at my desk on my lunch break? I always keep a box or two of the good stuff there for special occasions." He did his best to make sure sure Sin was making eye contact so he could smile up at him properly. Sharing his lunch break with Sinclar was definitely a special occasion. Business with pleasure? Best combination.

[misteranalyst-blog]

@luluwardwick

How had he gotten here? He needed to pay better attention to when his head started getting that cottony feeling. He'd been listening to his new friend at the bar explain about the planes that he'd used to fly and Eraba had been busy making the appropriate sympathetic noises and trying to file away all this new, very interesting information about plane engines into his permanent memory. With all that going on, he didn't realize that he'd drunk too much too fast. He'd even taken a swig or two from the guy's personal bottle as they'd walked to the next club. Eraba was admittedly balked by the pricy door fee but the guy had grinned and (to Eraba's horror) pulled the necessary money out of his own pocket and before his alcohol-affected brain could come up with the right way to protest, they were in.

...Oh wow, okay. He felt a rush of shock, sobering him, at least momentarily, when he realized where they'd gotten into. He'd never been to a gentleman's bar before and this was... Not what he'd been expecting. He'd heard of Spikes of course but he tended to avoid these places because a) he'd read enough feminist rants to know better and b) they just weren't really his thing. Still... His new companion had paid a lot for the entrance fee... It would be rude to turn around and leave right? He could stay for a half-an-hour, right? And at the very least, while he was here get some water to clear his head.

...Harmony, he felt like a kitten that just fell off a chair and was trying to comprehend the law of gravity for the the first time. Even through the alcohol haze he knew he was in over his head.

[elianecasuana]

    “Thank you, Eraba.” She hoped it was okay to use his first name. She always used last name and rank for Kal and Vic when speaking with them, but this guy seemed.. more casual, she supposed.

    “For both the offer and the discretion. Unsurprisingly, a barista job does not pay terribly well. I wasn’t planning on asking for reimbursment, since this is police work, but I would greatly appreciate it. Tips like this aren’t exactly easy to get ahold of.”

     She walked a few more steps in silence before speaking up again. “I’ve never had a police contact before. I’ve always been too scared to say anything, but… I’m glad I might actually be able to help with someone with the information I find. That’s… a much better feeling than the kind of underworld dirt I usually end up selling to lowlifes.”

    Like her brother, for instance. The kinds of things he was asking her to look into… There were facts she wished she could unlearn, bits of information she wished she could unsee. And most of all, she wished she hadn’t passed any of it on to him.

    “If there’s ever anything you’d like me to try to look into, well… I’ve got contacts. I might be able to dig something up if you need a lead. I’ve gotten pretty good at finding things out that don’t want to be found, and there’s always questions that are harder to get answers for as a police officer than as a civilian.”

[misteranalyst-blog]

"I understand," Eraba said even as his mind questioned if he really did. "And I'm sure we can work something out. The police department uses informants all the time." Usually homeless people or ex-cons or something like that. While Eliane was clearly something of a higher caliber, he would probably still be able to write this off as a business expense somehow. He would have to talk to Captain Holt about it but that was for later. He pushed those thoughts down once again and tried to reassure her.

"Well I'm glad you said something. If you can use your powers for good then right now, in this moment? I can't honestly say that I care who you've ever sold information to." That was a dangerous thing to say and he knew it so he continued. "We'll talk logistics later, okay? When this is over." His mind was still working furiously and that was the best he could do for multitasking under pressure.

When she spoke about finding out more he took a breath and made himself focus again. Carlos Sanchez was his immediate concern but she was talking about the future of their collaboration. She was talking about other kids, other people in the same situations who might benefit from the things that she knew or could learn. This was not something he could brush off while his mind was whirring with his work. Okay. Focus.

"If you can get me that exact address, that would speed things up a lot," he said. "Unless you think it will be faster for us to just do a sweep of the area. And honestly if I go in there and tell them I think it's the Bechamen quarter, I don't think I'll be able to convince them to wait for more information than that. But there are other things that would be good to know. Is there word on whether this is the work of an individual or an organization? Is there any rumor of how long the hostages are kept alive? Knowing if we're looking at a hostage situation or not is going to be critical." He paused for a moment, considering what he'd just said. "I understand that some of that might be easier to find than other parts of it. But even if we move in and you don't bring us another piece of information on this case, you've already done enough, Eliane."

He felt a sincere, if tired smile spread across his face. "I don't know how you were able to come into this at just the right time but I promise, you and I can talk more about future cases when all this is behind us and Carlos Sanchez is safe at home in his own bed."