Detective Fuentes and the NSS Aurora -- A Detective Noir
Feb 17, 2014 9:57:05 GMT
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Post by incognitojesus on Feb 17, 2014 9:57:05 GMT
*I'm only really writing this out of boredom, so I'll continue updating this thread if there's any public demand. But yeah, this is going to be a weekly upload, I guess. n0 h8 pls, I don't write as much as I used to* -IncognitoJesusDetective Fuentes and the NSS Aurora
It was raining hard that night, but not hard enough to keep me from forgetting her jumpsuit. I still remember it till this day, and the way her wet, raven-colored hair clung to her, the smell of her stuck to my tan overcoat as if it was her trying to keep me from going. She smelled of the sunflowers that I had picked up for her that morning from a hydroponics shop in Lowell City. Of course, the last thing I wanted to do was to leave her embrace, one I had grown so fond of these past few years. But duty calls, I guess. Wasn't much comfort as I saw her face from the shuttle's window. Thank the Maker tears look like rain through clouded eyes.
“Welcome aboard the NSS Aurora, please enjoy your productive shift, courtesy of Nanotrasen!” That same damned greeting we all received whenever we arrived aboard that station, but amid the usual crowd of eggheads with their foggy glasses, medical doctors with their bleeding red cross on their stark, white jumpsuits, those damned neerdowell security fuckers with their blood-red jumpsuits and stun batons secured to their waists, never far from reach, there was me. There was me, with my tan overcoat, Leo tucked into the holster hidden beneath. I've never had to fire the damn thing, but still, it never hurts.
The first thing I did, was what I always did, head straight to the bar. The burning sensation was always a welcome start to my shift, so I knew the familiar faces, the drunks of the station. But there was one face there that caught my eye from the beginning. She sat on at the bar, sipping what seemed to be a glass of vodka, her blonde hair fell in golden waves, covering her shoulders. I'll never forget that red, plaid skirt and that dress shirt that seemed to accentuate in all the right ways. Reaching into my coat pocket and fingering the familiar silver coin I had carried for so long, I tried to work up my courage. After a few minutes (and admittedly, a few sips of some Uncle Git), I finally got the nerve to talk her up, and approached the lady with the cigarette half dangling her rose-colored lips.
“Need a light?”
Her eyes widened slightly, and she quickly placed the glass in her hand down on the counter, before glancing over at me. Her eyes were a curious green, with a dab of honey near her pupils. Eyes I could get lost in, honestly.
“You gave me a bit of a fright, Mister,” she said with a flirtatious smile.
“It wasn't in my plan, lady, I bet your pardon,” I returned the smile before taking my hat off and placing it on the counter.
“Why, you can make up for it by taking a seat and helping me with this,” she motioned to the cigarette, now in her hand.
Placing my Zippo lighter on the counter for a moment, before pulling a stool closer to the dame, I took up the lighter and, after fumbling a bit trying to get it to light, held out my lighter beneath her cigarette. She flashed me a smile, a plane of white between two stark red lips, as she took a drag.
“You always this nervous, or is it just me?” she asked, her eyes radiating with curiousity through the smoke of her exhale.
“Only around beautiful dames, such as yourself,” I answered.
She tilted her head back in laughter, a rich sound that seemed to echo off of the bar walls, but before she could turn away, a flash of pain came across her once-curious eyes, the hint of honey gone now.
“I have to get going now,” she said abruptly. “But-”
“It wouldn't be right,” she cut me off, then hopped off the stool and hurried out of the bar, leaving behind her ID card in the process.
Eying it, I took a look at the bartender, a Tajaran by the name of Siri who I had known from previous shifts aboard the Aurora. He...or she—I never really bothered to ask—nodded his head which I took as encouragement.
“Hm, Selena Rodriguez, is it?” I read aloud, then read the next line, “Head of Personnel.”
So, that's why she seemed so hesitant, I said to myself. Just then, I heard the sound of a gruff, hoarse voice barking in my ear. “Jordan Fuentes, to your office, NOW!”
It was raining hard that night, but not hard enough to keep me from forgetting her jumpsuit. I still remember it till this day, and the way her wet, raven-colored hair clung to her, the smell of her stuck to my tan overcoat as if it was her trying to keep me from going. She smelled of the sunflowers that I had picked up for her that morning from a hydroponics shop in Lowell City. Of course, the last thing I wanted to do was to leave her embrace, one I had grown so fond of these past few years. But duty calls, I guess. Wasn't much comfort as I saw her face from the shuttle's window. Thank the Maker tears look like rain through clouded eyes.
“Welcome aboard the NSS Aurora, please enjoy your productive shift, courtesy of Nanotrasen!” That same damned greeting we all received whenever we arrived aboard that station, but amid the usual crowd of eggheads with their foggy glasses, medical doctors with their bleeding red cross on their stark, white jumpsuits, those damned neerdowell security fuckers with their blood-red jumpsuits and stun batons secured to their waists, never far from reach, there was me. There was me, with my tan overcoat, Leo tucked into the holster hidden beneath. I've never had to fire the damn thing, but still, it never hurts.
The first thing I did, was what I always did, head straight to the bar. The burning sensation was always a welcome start to my shift, so I knew the familiar faces, the drunks of the station. But there was one face there that caught my eye from the beginning. She sat on at the bar, sipping what seemed to be a glass of vodka, her blonde hair fell in golden waves, covering her shoulders. I'll never forget that red, plaid skirt and that dress shirt that seemed to accentuate in all the right ways. Reaching into my coat pocket and fingering the familiar silver coin I had carried for so long, I tried to work up my courage. After a few minutes (and admittedly, a few sips of some Uncle Git), I finally got the nerve to talk her up, and approached the lady with the cigarette half dangling her rose-colored lips.
“Need a light?”
Her eyes widened slightly, and she quickly placed the glass in her hand down on the counter, before glancing over at me. Her eyes were a curious green, with a dab of honey near her pupils. Eyes I could get lost in, honestly.
“You gave me a bit of a fright, Mister,” she said with a flirtatious smile.
“It wasn't in my plan, lady, I bet your pardon,” I returned the smile before taking my hat off and placing it on the counter.
“Why, you can make up for it by taking a seat and helping me with this,” she motioned to the cigarette, now in her hand.
Placing my Zippo lighter on the counter for a moment, before pulling a stool closer to the dame, I took up the lighter and, after fumbling a bit trying to get it to light, held out my lighter beneath her cigarette. She flashed me a smile, a plane of white between two stark red lips, as she took a drag.
“You always this nervous, or is it just me?” she asked, her eyes radiating with curiousity through the smoke of her exhale.
“Only around beautiful dames, such as yourself,” I answered.
She tilted her head back in laughter, a rich sound that seemed to echo off of the bar walls, but before she could turn away, a flash of pain came across her once-curious eyes, the hint of honey gone now.
“I have to get going now,” she said abruptly. “But-”
“It wouldn't be right,” she cut me off, then hopped off the stool and hurried out of the bar, leaving behind her ID card in the process.
Eying it, I took a look at the bartender, a Tajaran by the name of Siri who I had known from previous shifts aboard the Aurora. He...or she—I never really bothered to ask—nodded his head which I took as encouragement.
“Hm, Selena Rodriguez, is it?” I read aloud, then read the next line, “Head of Personnel.”
So, that's why she seemed so hesitant, I said to myself. Just then, I heard the sound of a gruff, hoarse voice barking in my ear. “Jordan Fuentes, to your office, NOW!”
