[Simon Crawford]

The car drove peacefully through town. Simon had turned on the radio, which was playing some kind of blues. He looked over at the rookie next to him. "Feel free to change the channel if you're not a blues man", he said. Although it had been meant as a funny remark, Simon didn't smile, chuckle or laugh. He looked at the mirrors and took a left turn, continuing their drive. He had been a sergeant for almost eight years now, and he had seen a lot of rookies over the years. He hadn't worked a case together with this particular one yet, and so he had arranged for them to go on patrol together. The evening seemed quiet, but Simon knew better than to trust the citizens of Los Eurosia. Addicts, teenagers, troublemakers, ... Gifted. They were everywhere these days, and the man wondered what had happened to society's standards. He would have had his ass whooped if he had ever done half the things these kids did nowadays. Maybe his parents had just been better parents. The new generation of parents was allowing their children to grow up with too much technology and social media. It would ruin them, he was sure of it.

The radio picked up the precinct's frequency, and Simon turned his head in the general direction of the radio without taking his eyes off the road.

"1222, 1222, come in please."

Simon took the microphone and pressed the button.

"1222 here, what's happening?"

"Sergeant Crawford? We have a 10-51 at the McDonald's on Main Street."

"Alright. Willis and I will check it out."

He put the microphone away and brought his hand back to the steering wheel, with a destination in mind now. Simon shortly looked to the side, at Jacob.

"You remember what a 10-51 is, Willis?" he asked, testing the rookie's knowledge in a somewhat playful way. It was clear by the tone of his voice that he wouldn't be mad if Jacob didn't know what it was, but that he'd like for him to try.

Simon knew very well what it meant. 10-51. Subject is drunk. He wondered what was so fun about getting drunk at a McDonald's. He wasn't the biggest fan of alcohol, either. It could only mess up your brain and its functions.

_________

Once they had arrived at the scene, Simon got out of the car and took a look at the exterior of the McDonald's. He frowned ever so slightly. Most of the people that had been eating there were now outside, and some seemed to be in a panicky state. "Alright, let's make some room", he said loudly as he walked closer, keeping his arms out once he had moved past the crowd, ushering them away from the doors. He looked at Jacob and gestured a nod of his head for him to follow behind him.

Before he opened the glass doors, he looked through them. He saw a young man, 25-28 years old holding the cash register above him with one hand while he held the cashier on his other. This was superhuman strength. There was no way someone as skinny as him would be able to do such a thing. "Approach carefully", he said.

"Stay back!" the thief shouted at Simon as he opened the doors. "She was just supposed to hand me the money and let me go!" Simons eyes darted through the room, looking for possible emergency exits and obstacles between him and the criminal. "I'd tell you to put your hands above your head, but it seems like you're way ahead of me", he said without any humour in his voice.

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Jacob Willis — I have no idea how radio dispatch works LOL! Let me know if I need to change anything! You can let the NPC act/speak too, I don't mind, we'll share him ; )

[Jacob Willis]

Jacob beat a small tempo on the top of his thighs with his hands as his eyes scanned the sidewalk as they drove. He was still relatively new to the job but he'd been working long enough now most of the other officers at least knew his name. Perhaps this wasn't the best line of work for him to get into. The flashing lights and sirens from the cars were enough to give him a migraine. But this is what felt right. This was where he could help people. Where he could take an active role in making sure things were done right. To make sure normal people felt safe.

The Sergeants words cut through his train of thought about the music and Jacob shook his head. "Nah, one of my uncles was a blues player when I was a kid," he said with an easy smile. If he were honest there wasn't much music that Jacob wouldn't listen to. Though as the dispatcher's voice came over the talkie he perked up a bit more curiously. A 10-51? That meant someone was wasted enough for someone to call the cops. "Yeah, there's some drunk jackass at the Mcdonalds," Jacob scoffed with a small chuckle. Cool, maybe he could grab a snack after they got the drunk taken care of.

Once they made it Jacob saw the people standing outside and became more worried rather quickly. If it was just some drunk causing a little trouble more people would be inside, likely filming it. Jacob climbed out of the car and followed the Sergeant inside carefully. Seeing the man around his age holding the entire cash register up, ripped from the counter, and the poor young cashier hostage made Jacob swear inwardly.

The smell of alcohol on him was strong and burned Jacob's sensitive nose. The man swayed slightly with a wild look in his bloodshot eyes. "Hey big guy, she doesn't need to be involved in this," Jacob's voice was calm and easy as he spoke. The man looked from Simon over to him and snarled. "I just wanted her to open the fucking register!" He yelled while the girl he was holding whimpered in fear, tears streaming down her face. "Dude, she's like what? Eighteen? Come on," he kept his voice easy, as if he was talking to one of his buddies at the club. Trying to convince them out of going home with some stranger they just met.

The man looked down at her with a contemplative look. "Just let her go and we can figure out the register, okay?"

lost in the thrill of it all

Simon Crawford // Let me know if you need me to change or add anything at all!

☀



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