Uzaki Posted July 4, 2016 Share Posted July 4, 2016 Warning, this RP will have mature content such as blood, murder, kidnapping and other dark themes. Sam: Name: Sam Walker. Sex & Position: Male, Seke. Age: 26. Height & Weight: 5ft 10in, 160lbs. Eyes: A steely blue. Hair: A deep, dark brown that's almost black. Personality: When first meeting Sam he seems distant and scattered minded, and to some extent that is true, since he has trouble focusing on one thing at a time and is easily distracted by the on-going's around him. He is however very sharp and has no trouble multi-tasking, he also has a very good memory when it comes to information he's read or heard. He's not as good at remembering the small things like where he put his keys or phone or even where he parked his car. Other than that he's softhearted and friendly and at the same time bit socially awkward when interacting with people. If he encounters a problem or gets stuck he stubbornly works his way through or around it, he has a hard time to let go and move on. He can become a bit obsessive over different things or people or ideas, the focus of his obsession varies. Doesn't have a good sense for fashion, dresses mostly in black and uses the same type of clothes. Abilitly: Sam has the strange ability to touch items and sense intent or imprints of intent and emotions left behind. It has to be strong intentions or impressions for him to get a clear “transmission”, as he calls them. Sometimes he can also sense people's or animal’s intentions, but it appears random and only when the subject is feeling very strongly about something. It's weird and strange and Sam doesn't know what's going on, to the world he simply calls himself psychic. He wears gloves to avoid random transmissions. History: Sam grew up in the suburb to Noname City, a comfortable life with both his parents and younger brother. In high school he 'came into his powers'. It happened gradually and puberty was already a weird time even without the 'power'. There's nothing extraordinary about him other than that. He lived in Noname City and worked as a nurse for a time. Until he was fired following the brief media attention he got when he aided the police in finding a serial rapist that terrorized the city. It was a difficult time, making the police trust his descriptions and handling the disbelievers and also believers. After that he moved once and changed phone number twice. Following that he's consulted few times, after someone died, as a consultant to Chief Anna-Lee Leigh. She's a firm believer in his ability and he's helped her district solve some crimes but she's keeping him secret, always making sure to find solid evidence to back the case up. Likes: +tea +praise +roller coasters +thrillers Dislikes: -coffee -assholes -clowns -rom.com's -flying Recurring Characters: NPC Characters: Left: Captain and Chief, Anna-Lee Leigh, 37. Middle:Detective, James Corbin, 40. Right: Forensic Technician, Marcus Rustiq, 31. [Sams apartment, 2:10AM] The call came in the middle of the night, the shrill ring tone Sam had chosen to make sure he heard when someone called blared into the dark and silence of his bedroom. Confused he reached out and took his phone, taking a moment to check the time and the caller ID. It was 2AM in the morning and Anna-Lee Leigh was calling him, her stern face looking down at him from the display. He swiped a finger over the touch screen and pressed the phone to his ear. “Hello?” he greeted with a voice rough from sleep, half of the sound muffled into the pillow his head was sill resting on. “Sam, it's Anna-Lee, sorry for calling this late.” “Or early.” he suggested and struggled to sit up, pushing down the thin sheet covering him, and shifted the phone to his other ear. “What is it?” She wouldn't be calling this time if it wasn't important, they weren't friends or lovers or in any kind of relationship where calling in the middle of the night was ordinary. “Yeah, have you seen the news about the two missing girls, Amy and Maria?” she asked and he could hear her shuffling around papers in the background, as well as muffled speaking. Sam scratched his naked stomach, the last of his sleep chased away was his mind processed the question. Of course he knew about the two girls that had disappeared over the span of a month. First Amy, eight years old, and then Maria, nine years old, just last week. Their faces had been printed in every newspaper and showed on every news channel since then. Their parents pleading on the TV with some unidentified kidnapper that had made no demands. It was heart breaking. “Yes.” he knew of the missing girls “I'm aware.” “I was given the case a week ago, after the brass knocked the previous captain off it for not producing any results.” she started to explain, sounding tired. “And I've just put together a group of some gifted individuals, that will probably solve all of this given time.” There was a pause, where she let the information sink in. “But you work homicide.” Sam noted and stood, suddenly antsy and unable to sit still on the bed. He turned on the bedside table lamp before starting to pace in the room across the carpeted floor. “Yeah.” Oh. “And now there's a third girl missing, from this evening, and if this follows the same pattern we have a little over forty eight hours before her time runs out, Sam.” The sound of a door closing and the muffled voices in the background became silent. “I need you, Sam. I need your ability to profile this bastard. Please..” she sounded desperate and it tugged on his heartstrings. She knew just how to pull at them, to push his buttons. “Okay, what do you need me to do?” “Come to the station as soon as you can, thank you.” An hour later Sam stepped into an office that, despite half of the staff missing and probably at home sleeping blissfully unaware, was very busy. Phones were ringing, people talking and looking at papers and photos and through the glass pane into one of the small meeting rooms he could see a man holding a woman in his arms, comforting while crying. He didn't recognize any of these people, with the exception for the chief that had already spotted him and was heading over. She waved away a young guy that tried to get her attention on the way over before pulling him into a short hug. He responded halfheartedly, patting her back, and greeted her with a simple "Good morning?" “Great, thank you.” she thanked him again and grabbed his elbow to lead him past an old-style bulletin board with pictures and information pinned on it. The police usually didn't use these big chart displays anymore, if needed they used a computer program, but this was a special case. “I'm gonna pair you with a fantastic Detective, Sam, as soon as we find him. He's the lead detective and you'll partner up with him and consult like only you can. There's some items in the second interrogation room for you. Now where is he?” she asked out loud and looked around. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
check Posted July 5, 2016 Share Posted July 5, 2016 NAME: Malcolm, Ortismo AGE: 28 POSITION: Seme HAIR COLOR: Umber EYE COLOR: Wine Red HEIGHT: 6'0ft OCCUPATION: Detective/Serial Killer LIKES: Things that will entertain him, coffee, murder cases, acting DISLIKES: Anything that bores him, clingy people PERSONALITY: Calm. He's kind and light hearted with smiles that is gentle and warm. He is someone who's level headed, a helpful person, who is respected by other people and is looked up to. Malcolm is easy to get along with, that is why nobody ever thinks that he's someone who hides things. But he does. He hides who he really is. Someone who smiles so real but hides things in layer deep. A twisted character who's not in the right path nor the wrong path. He's in between, twittering to each side but ultimately ends up looking for something to amuse him. Just to occupy the boring time. SHORT BIO: He had a father who's a detective before he died by a gunshot wound in the head. Malcolm has always told that he lived in a quiet hometown before he moved due to his father's job demands. His mother is a gentle lady before she too died at their new home just after 3 years. It's always known that she was ill. Due to the upbringing of his father and his detective habits, he grew up to study and became a part of the justice force, inspired by his parents. That's what he says, that's what everything thinks. That's what the true background of his. Malcolm was a former FBI now a detective, serving to assist cases most especially the sever ones, offering to help and his services to bring the culprits to justice. 【1:48AM】 Ring. Ring. Ring. “Wait just a moment.” Ri- Click. “Hello?” “Hey, are you busy with another case?” A male voice asks, gruff before he shouts something at someone and goes back to the phone with a huff. He seems to be busy with something, there’s a lot of noise on the other side of the phone. “What seems to be the problem?” The receiver asks, voice the same gender as the caller, sounding concerned and alarmed. He doesn’t say anything about the time, receiving a call at midnight or late at morning means there’s something grave that happened. “We need your help, Malcolm.” The caller says, serious. “Anna-Lee notified me to get your help, she would have called you instead but the higher-ups called her back to discuss about the current case we were handed.” Malcolm straightens, wine red looking down at his free hand where a manila folder rests. Open and being read. “Is it the case about two missing girls?” he questions, casually looking at the contents of the paper in the folder. “I’ve heard the news, are there really no leads or any clues that police stumbled upon?” “Yeah, it is.” The caller confirms, he sounds irritated now. “There would have if the moron in charge did his job right.” Ah so that’s why he’s in a bad mood now. Malcolm can already tell that the previous handler didn’t do anything right. “I don’t get why he got promoted, he’s not doing the right protocol.” he continues, “Now look what happened. Dead end. We’re not even halfway close to solving the case.” The detective purses his lips. A dead end. Two girls missing. But that’s not all- the other male doesn’t stop and relays another piece of information: “Another girl is missing. It was reported hours ago.” “That’s troubling.” Malcolm murmurs, he thinks for a moment and decides what he has to do. “I’ll help. I finished my last case two weeks ago so I’m free. I won’t let this go on.” There’s the sound of a sigh of relief at the other side. “Thank you.” he says, sincerely and sounded as if the weight on his shoulders lightened up. “I knew we could count on you, Anna-Lee will be the one telling you the details. Come as soon as you can.” He hangs up. Now left completely alone, Malcolm sank further in his leather seat. He hasn’t taken his eyes off the manila folder in his hands even as the call goes on. The male doesn’t look concerned as he sounded, face relaxed and body languid. “For the kidnapper to take two little girls and strikes another… what sick fantasies you have, Mr. Criminal.” he muses, his mouth forming into a smile. “I suppose Miss Anna-Lee will be contacting him.” The detective stands up, swiftly closes the folder and drops it on the table without a care in the world as he walks away from the table. “This will be interesting. I do hope he lives up to my expectations.” Written on the manila folder is a person’s name. ‘Sam Walker’, it says. He shows up one hour and thirty minutes later. He’s greeted by Anna-Lee who tells him that he’s going to partner with someone else and what he’ll do later. He’s whisked away by James Corbin, a veteran detective who was contacted as well. “You got called too, huh?” James crosses his arms, he looks dead serious. “They shouldn’t have dragged this case too late, this are little girls we’re talkin’ about. Now look, ‘nother girl got abducted. Cheh, bunch of amateur slowpokes.” James was a rough man at his 40’s, with a sense of a soft heart to innocent people, especially the young ones. He must be thinking about his daughter sleeping soundly in her bed, safe. Imagining her taken away without a sound, imagining her crying out for daddy to save her must have made him hurry at the dead of the night. Job be damned, James wouldn’t let this go on for much longer. Malcolm admired him. Just a bit. What justice he carries in his iron hands. Someone calls out to James before he can get to say anything in return. “Welp, I’m needed. I’ll be seein you later.” He gave Malcolm a pat in the back as he leaves. The younger detective is left there, contemplating. He busies himself as he thinks, looking over what reports were written and submitted. Admittedly, not much is helpful. The one who called him was right, they didn’t do a good job. He looks up when he hears Anna-Lee’s voice. He caught the sight of another man with her. There he is, the rumored psychic. Let’s get this show star, shall we? Malcolm waves his hand to get Anna-Lee’s attention when she starts looking around. “I’m here, Anna-Lee.” He walks towards them and stops in front of the stranger. “Is this my partner you’ve told me?” He tilts his head to her before he smiles at Sam, friendly features written on his face. “My name is Malcolm; I’ve worked as a former FBI agent before I decided to change my career to a detective.” he introduces himself, “Pleasure to meet you and I hope we can get along. Let’s do our best to solve the mystery and save those girls.” Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Uzaki Posted July 5, 2016 Author Share Posted July 5, 2016 ”Yes, this is him.” the chief confirms, ”Sam Walker, a consultant.”, and introduces him as if Sam was hers to introduce and in her mind he was hers. Her asset, her consultant. Sam straightened and turned to the new face, studying him. The other is quicker to introduce himself than Sam was and the chief had just opened her mouth when the detective spoke up. The other, Malcolm, is slightly taller than Sam and this close he has to tilt his head a bit to keep eye contact. It’s something that slightly annoys him, being shorter. Even Anna-Lee is an inch taller than him even though he isn’t actually that short. In most of his younger school years he was taller than the other boys and girls, until one day and he wasn’t. He was average. “Yes, let’s get along and do our best.” He replied, a sense of optimism filling him with the appearance of this new detective. Experience with the FBI hopefully meant he was really good at what he did, having been FBI and now being a detective and he didn’t even look that much older than Sam himself. He was impressed. “Call me Sam, Detective.” He added, aware that most detectives insisted to address him using his last name. The chief looked calm for a moment when looking at them, before glancing to their right and then she looked serious once more. Sam looked right as well and saw the second familiar face this morning. Marcus Rustic, a nervous looking but brilliant forensic technician came into the room and dropped off bunch of folders on the table next the them before giving the chief a grim nod. “All right, listen up.” The chief demanded, making the room quiet down in a minute and had everyone turning to look at her “First, I must apologize for the information that has been kept from you.” She crossed her arms before continuing. “The previous captain and those that worked with him made the judgment call to keep certain information from the public and also from other officers. On this table are the autopsy reports on Amy and Maria. Amy was found dumped in a ditch, two weeks ago, and Maria on the side of a road only 48 hours after her disappearance. That means we have 48 hours from the time of the kidnapping to find Emma Ross.” There was a brief, distinct uproar of anger at this new information. A few were quiet, most likely already aware of the situation much like Sam who had suspected as much from theri previous conversation on the phone and now he had confirmation. “48 hours, people, and that was almost six hours ago. Carry on.” She turned back to them. “Please Sam, do your best. Go to this girl’s home, look around, see what you can find. Malcolm, take care of him.” She nodded at the detective and then headed over to a small crowd of people gathering at the table with the lab reports. Marcus spotted Sam and offered him a nod. Sam returned it and then turned back to face Malcolm. “I think we better get to it, then.” He suggested, not really one for small talk even when there was time for it. “I would like to see the crime scene.” He paused, suddenly remembering “Eh, do you have a car? Mine’s in the shop.” Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
check Posted July 9, 2016 Share Posted July 9, 2016 Malcolm smiled at her introduction of his partner in this new case. He took note of the underlying tone in her voice that speaks clearly that Sam is her’s first, she claimed him first. Perhaps he worded his sentence wrong or perhaps that is what he planned to say, he didn’t show that he recognizes what she’s silently telling him. He’s reminded of why he’s so fond of her. Not in a romantic sense nor a fluffy one. Malcolm wonders who’s tougher. Anna-Lee or James? He turns his attention to his new partner (his new playmate) when he starts to speak. His wine red eyes brightens. “Excellent.” he grins, “I’ll be looking forward to how we get along, just to brighten up in this dreadful case.” If they were to continue in a somber mood, they would fall in the dark. It is better to have a little light in the atmosphere before everything - or perhaps, everyone - goes tense and explodes. He would have preferred that but he has to keep up his image, shouldn’t he. He’s still a detective, a former FBI, no matter how twisted he really is. “If you insist of I calling you by your first name then you may do the same in return.” he winks playfully. “Sounds fair, no?” There’s a pause, he notices Anna-Lee’s gaze, her expression morping into a serious one, deeming the little moment enough. It’s time for the show to start. Malcolm sees James at the corner of his eyes, the older man coming back with a stony look. As the chief starts to talk, he let out a quiet sigh. People are interesting, they go cross beyond their duty, for good or for bad. Malcolm would have thought that they were connected to the suspect but that was an amateur idea. They did not prove to be entertaining. So he erased them from his mind, their actions were not worth enough to get angry about. It would be nice to solve this case. To save those little girls who suffered in the cruel hands of the suspect and continues to suffer in their deaths, the case must be solved and apprehend the criminal to send him away for justice. Malcolm would never lay his hands on children. Despite his tainted soul, he would not stoop so low to put a finger on their small heart and stab them with the nail. He would come back to them when they get older enough, they would have change, grow up with a different personality. Then he would decide what his next move is if they start to walk on a dark, black path. Let them keep their little beating hearts (a child’s innocence) until it’s gone. The chief turns to look at them, Malcolm straightened his posture. “Take care of him.” she orders. His lips curved to a small smile, nodding in agreement. “I will, of course.” he promises. (How can he not? Sam is his new source of wonder. There’s no use of a toy that doesn’t give you a least bit of fun before it breaks.) He notes that James is talking rapidly to someone, the veteran must be wanting to look at the reports or evidence. He shifts back to Sam when the latter opens his mouth and comes out a suggestion. “I have no problem with that.” Malcolm says, going all for it, “The sooner, the better before something even worst happens.” He blinks at the question then answers, “Yes, I have a car. I borrowed it from my friend, let’s go.” The detective starts to wall away without a response, his temporary partner must have thought he was eager. Not really, he wants to see how his ‘powers’ work up close. Malcolm leads Sam into the parking lot, coming up to a gray colored tesla modeled car. “Here it is.” He takes out the keys with a remote attached to it and presses the open button. He opens the door to the driver seat but before he goes in, he flashes a smile at Sam, “All aboard.” And then he goes inside. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Uzaki Posted July 9, 2016 Author Share Posted July 9, 2016 Sam follows, slightly behind and to the side and studies the back of Malcolms head. The way his hair moves a bit as they head toward the parking lot and the soft shimmer in it from the buzzing lighting fixtures. It looks soft, he thinks, well maintained. Groomed. He feels a bit self conscious about his own bed head and brushes a hand through it. He'd tried to flatten it before coming in, with limited success. He's snaps out of his thoughts as they arrive. “Very nice of your friend.” he notes, eyeing the car with approval. He's not a 'car-guy' but he can appreciate a nice car. Slipping in he buckles up and then they pull out from the parking lot and out onto the sleepy streets. Morning is approaching but the sun has yet to rise, like the citizens that also has yet to rise. The colours of large digital billboard adverts and street lights reflect through the window as they drive through the city towards the suburbs. Sam's blue eyes also reflects those lights as he looks at them briefly before turning to look at Malcolm, silent for a moment and thinking how to address the elephant in the car. Or at least the elephant in Sam's head. “Do you know of me, Malcolm?” he asks, deciding to face his insecurities straight on and see how the other would react. If he would laugh Sam off, mock him, or if he'd get angry and say he's a blasphemer, or maybe just annoyed that he'd been chosen to babysit the “psychic”. “I mean,” He continues and rephrases the question. “We just met so, I don't mean like you actually know me, but rather, have you heard of me from the others and what I do? The psychic-part, eh, I mean?” he stops before he's rambling and wiggles his fingers a bit like he's doing a magic show, smiling, to make light of what he does. Abracadabra. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
check Posted July 14, 2016 Share Posted July 14, 2016 [table=width: 520, align: center] [tr] [td][/td] [td]The hum of the engine lulls him into relaxation, it’s comfy and it feels very serene where the outside noise is blocked – saved for loud sounds but fortunately, it is still too early for such noise to blare. The sun has yet to greet those who hid under their blanket, not yet time for them to flutter their eyes open. Malcolm has always like this time of day, where the ray lights await to come and give off heat. If he was not the one driving, he would have bought out a book and read. A moment, to himself, before he glides away to take hold of his plans. But he knows that it won’t take long enough for his companion sitting on the passenger seat – just right next to him, so close but far enough – to talk. It’s quick to realize that he would bring up his powers or rather what he thought of his unnatural ability that few people have. It’s logical to bring it up before they start to investigate of the unfortunate, sad case that is needed to be solved as quickly and efficiently as possible. After all, it is easier to deal with each other if they talk about it, rather than to cover. There are those cases of secrecy that not many will react so well, pertaining such as the topic Sam is going to bring up. He does. Malcolm glances at Sam for a few seconds. What a great timing though because the stoplight blinks to red. The detective stops the car and thought of his answer. “I’ve heard of you.” he starts to say, tone as light as before, “I’ve also heard some rumors and there are few reports I had read that depicts of an ‘unearthly’ ability.” It made him curious. And it sparked an interest. Malcolm had chased those rumors and desired to know if it is true. He had time and if it was not true as the rumors says then it is fine, save for a small disappointment. Because for him: having those “powers” to be true made cases more interesting. He took time to get information. To know that particular someone who holds such “power” is hidden safely by the chief herself. However, it was not safe enough that rumors were still going around. “I did not know what you look like, I’ve only heard that you are under Miss Anna-Lee’s protection and of what you’ve done but that is all.” Malcolm didn’t want to bring up the nasty part of the rumors; humans can be prickle being, aren’t they? “Should I be concerned?” the detective questions, eyebrows furrowed a bit in worry, “I am sorry if I doubt of your ‘ability’ but I assure you, I will not react badly when I see you in action-” he paused, expression a bit sheepish, “-if you let me, that is.” Before Sam answers, he continues to talk, “I know that you’ve been of help so I do not mind what you do, I’m glad that there is someone like you.” Malcolm flashes him a warm smile. He starts driving again, after. The light turned green.[/td] [/tr] [/table] Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Uzaki Posted July 14, 2016 Author Share Posted July 14, 2016 The relief he feels as the other answers is surprising. Sam always tries hard to not care for what other people think of him or what he does, it is a rare response and a bit unexpected but not unwelcome. Keeping eye contact with the Malcolm's oddly coloured yet intriguing eyes he keeps his face as neutral as he can and mentally stomps down the slither of hope he feels. Hope for acceptance he tells himself he doesn't need. Anna-Lee was an odd woman for having accepted him as readily as she did. She was one in a million, and maybe they would've been friends if they hadn't met through work and had to keep a professional relationship. There were other friends in his life but only two that knew of what he did, and only one of those two lived in the city. It could get lonely, sometimes. An open mind. Also a rare thing to encounter and Sam smiled back, his usually steel blue eyes now dark in the dim light in the car. Turning to the side he looked back out through the side window and took a moment before he responded. “That is all I want, to help.” he began “And you are welcome to watch, though I'm afraid there's no magical lights or talking in tongues. Just me touching things, like a creep.” he laughed softly, having imagined many times before what he must look like to others when walking around touching stuff and spacing out. Maybe like a drug addict or maybe just a crazy person. “Anna-Lee tries to keep me off record. I'm registered as a 'profiler consultant'.” he explained, wanting the other to know a bit of what he provided and how this had worked out before. He wanted to talk and share of himself. “It's pretty close to the truth, I offer the profile of the perpetrator from the intent he's left behind on items he's touched or handled. Very simplified. I guess you'll see in a moment what I'll do.” Sam looked back to Malcolm before adding “And thanks for being understanding, and not an asshole. I've met enough of those to last me a lifetime already.” It makes him excited again, looking forward to solving this and working with someone that seem more intelligent and more knowledgeable that the average Joe police detective. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
check Posted July 26, 2016 Share Posted July 26, 2016 [table=width: 520, align: center] [tr] [td][/td] [td]“Don’t mention it.” Malcolm replies, lips curving up once again. “Having a psychic power is pretty neat.” He complimented, bit awe in his voice. “I have a respect for people like you, who do good things and continue to do so despite the backlash.” What were they called? Good-two-shoes? Hm, no. A sense of justice? Sometimes, he wanted to know the details, relevant or no. For small details were just as important as big ones, they could even set a human’s emotion high. It’s too bad he was more focused on driving than analyzing his companion’s expression. Now who’s the creep, hm? Ah, he does like to observe. What things that makes one tick. You had to be cautious, don’t let your guard down before they discover something that will destroy what you had created with herd work. Malcolm can’t help wonder though what will the psychic think of his hidden web? His immoral sins he kept locked in a box and never let the light peek in. He kept it tight closed, he wonders if his powers will act up and see him for what he really is? He doesn’t want to be revealed so early. If not at all. He doesn’t want to find ways how to dispose of an ‘innocent’ soul who only wanted to help because of the goodness in his open heart. “I have questions, if you don’t mind.” he says, wanting to know more pertaining to his ability to sense. “Do you sense the person’s essence – that is to say: can you trace who’s intention belongs to with your power?” the detective asks with a curious tone. “It would put the case faster to solve the mystery and catch the criminal.” Malcolm elaborates. His real motivation to know hidden too deep. “What mostly can you sense? Happiness? Fear?” he asks more, the taller male wants to know more. (It will do more good to be careful once he has at least important details.) “Is it too weird for me to get excited seeing you in action even if you – as you put it in your words – touch like a creep? I don’t believe that you’re being a creep – ah, sorry, I feel like I am insulting you, which I’m not.” Malcolm chuckles, sounding a bit embarrassed. At his slight enthusiasm, at his blabbering. “We’re almost there.” he adds, to let Sam know. “I do hope we get to talk like this, comfortable and non-professional.” The detective softly says, words almost touch a whisper. “And hopefully, I don’t make you too uncomfortable with being too friendly.” now he sounds flustered. [/td] [/tr] [/table] Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Uzaki Posted July 27, 2016 Author Share Posted July 27, 2016 The view outside the car slowly turned from city to suburban, the tall and sparkling skyscrapers were behind them and the gray surroundings started to give way to patches of green. Apartment complexes and sidewalk gave way to houses and yards. The sun had begun to brighten the sky behind the city, Sam looked at the thin streaks of orange reaching toward them in the side rear mirror. “Thank you.” Sam said softly. He feels pleased at the questions, glad that Malcolm is interested, and can’t help but sit a little taller in his seat. Flattered. “It’s difficult to put into words, the sensation of someone other” he starts, thinking back on the feelings and emotions that he could pick up and just how it. “And it depends on the person behind the imprint. Ordinary people are bland, like washed out color or watered down wine. You can taste something or almost see them but it’s not anything distinct. A few people leave strong imprints of themselves, strong echoes of their beings. Maybe their souls, I don’t really know.” He looked back out the window, watching the suburb they were now driving through. All the idyllic houses of soft creamy colors that they drove by and the prim and proper front yards. It looked so peaceful and calm, so normal. “Murders, rapists, kidnappers.” Sam looked back with a tired smile. “Yes, they are usually distinct, they are intense, but so are also artistic and inquisitive souls. It’s all about the intensity of the person.” Sam wondered how he himself would be experienced if someone else could do what he was able to do. Would he be a washed out wine to, and what would Malcolm feel like? “The more intense the feelings, the easier it is to pick up, but it does also fades with time. The fresher the better.” Sam nodded. “Don’t worry, I’m not feeling insulted, more like complimented by your interest.” He explained, looking back and watching Malcolm again. Who wouldn’t feel complimented if a handsome, seemingly competent agent took an interest in you, right? They pulled up to one of the many pretty houses, the peaceful picture disturbed by the police guarding and technicians milling about the yard. A yard full of grim faces. Sam could feel his focus shift from Malcolm and to the case again, nervous and tense with the time limit to their chase. “Yes, let’s talk more. Later. Now, we’re here.” He paused, snapping off the seat belt. “Let’s check it out, her room first, please.” Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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