Lackey Street

"just a few more miles back to campus" she thought to herself as she kept running. she had finished unpacking and getting settled into her dorm room and in typical Risha fashion she decided to go out for a little run. white and baby blue sneakers hitting the pavement lightly as she ran along the sidewalk, with music playing from her earbuds into her ear. Her mind was filled with things she could possibly due once she got back to campus and showered.

A squad car rolled up beside the college student, and the passinger side window rolled down revealing Officer Kenson. "Hey! What's the mileage you got there...uh, Claven was it?" he asked with a chuckle. The car kept at her pace; traffic was dead and the cop didn't want to break the woman's workout just to say 'hi'.

She smiled and nodded to the officer about her name as she slowed down a little to speak to the man " I'm up to about six miles to and from campus now, hows your day been so far officer?"

The officer chuckled. "Well, keep it up and you'll be an Olympian! The usual grind: writing up some parking tickets and making sure the local drunks walk home. Another action packed day in the life of a Tall Oaks police officer." he chuckles then turns to the road ahead. "Well, it's getting late out, you better hurry on back to the campus before it gets too dark out."

'I'm on my way now, have a good evening officer' that pretty smile of hers was flashed again before she picked up speed to head back towards campus, those nikes pounding the pavement as she ran along the sidewalk, she had to admit it was a pretty nice evening to be out for a run.

Damian was quite an agent, so slipping past those at the inn after checking into room 7 was not a problem for him, even if he was a bit buzzed. He walks down the street intersection keeping his attention on the left side and not paying attention when he crosses paths with the jogger (Risha Claven) and bumps into her, causing him to stumble over and fall onto his chest. "...Ow..." he exclaims, narrowing his eyes as he rolls onto his back. "Sorry...about that." he says coughing into his arm.

Morgan had just left the restaurant when she tripped and stumbled over something in the street (Damian), the toes of her heels embedding deep within the side of the object and sent her sprawling onto her chest into the street with an audible "Oof!" The fall had dislodged her ID Badge and caused dirt to scuff up her orange vest. "Oww, what the heck did I trip over?" she mutters, holding herself up with her palms, her breasts bobbing together and about in their less constrained dress shirt underneath the vest. She could feel her knees rise, and half turns to witness that the object she had tripped over was actually a person. A man in his thirties with an air of alcohol radiating off of him. She furrows her thin brows. "Well that can explain why he's laying in the street..." she sighs, and then puffs her cheeks. "Hey buddy, this is kinda of an inconvenient place to sleep isn't it? This is a public sidewalk after all!" she scolds, pulling her calves over the man to where she was in a 'push up' position after she fell. She gathers herself and stands above the man again, patting her clothes off of dirt. Her clothes, besides her white dress shirt and orange vest, included black heel shoes and a pair of orange colored leather pants. "Hmp...now I'll have to get this dry cleaned..." she mutters again to herself. She then begins to pat around her waist for her Identification Badge, which she just couldn't find now. "Well great now I'm missing my ID! Can't this day get any worse?" she complains out loud.

Damian, who otherwise would sarcastically retort simply grumbled due to the sharp pain in the left side of his chest brought upon by the woman who had stepped out of the restaurant. He rolls his head towards her direction and slowly shifted his eyelids downwards. "Wow...talk about a '70's throwback outfit. Seriously...Orange leather and frilly cuffs? Is this what you'd call a 'hipster' these days?" he sighs at his rather negative thoughts, turning his body to the right so he can get up off his shoulder. "Still...a nice pair of-" Then his thoughts drop when he hears the clicking of metal upon the sidewalk. Rearing his head into the direction of the clatter, he notices the plastic badge and the metal clip that held it. He clasps it as he's getting off the ground and flips it over. "A Press Badge...another Reporter?" he states out loud turning to the woman who was roughly the same height.

Damian Handy wrote:

Damian, who otherwise would sarcastically retort simply grumbled due to the sharp pain in the left side of his chest brought upon by the woman who had stepped out of the restaurant. He rolls his head towards her direction and slowly shifted his eyelids downwards. "Wow...talk about a '70's throwback outfit. Seriously...Orange leather and frilly cuffs? Is this what you'd call a 'hipster' these days?" he sighs at his rather negative thoughts, turning his body to the right so he can get up off his shoulder. "Still...a nice pair of-" Then his thoughts drop when he hears the clicking of metal upon the sidewalk. Rearing his head into the direction of the clatter, he notices the plastic badge and the metal clip that held it. He clasps it as he's getting off the ground and flips it over. "A Press Badge...another Reporter?" he states out loud turning to the woman who was roughly the same height.

Morgan still looks around for her card when she hears the man state her trade with distaste. Turning to him, then the card and snatches the ID from his hand. "Well yeah, this is the Presidential Speech we're talking about;" she takes the ID and snaps it onto her waist again, patting it. "I'm not going to be the only one here covering this story either so be ready to see more of us." she finishes before turning around. "Don't worry, your town will be free of reporters in two days time, the day after the President's speech. Then you can return to being drunk in the streets again." she says starting to walk away.

He narrows his eyes. "This isn't 'my town', and I'm not drunk thank you. Though right now I wish I was, the pain in my side caused by your heels are gonna be an irritation for a while." he says holding the left side of his torso. He takes a step closer. "I could use an apology..." he says furrowing his brows.

He watches in irritation as the woman simply walks away. Apparently she was not going to give him an apology today...or ever for that matter. "Tsk...chivalry's dead these days..." he mutters to himself, and begins to walk away when there is a sharp pain that runs up the side of his leg. "Shhhit!" He half bites his tongue to keep himself from screaming it out and alerting the entire the city. He looks down and could see a bit of blood soaking through his pant leg, and he turns his attention back to the sidewalk where he could see a shard of glass jutting out; likely from a broken beer bottle. He physically sighs, shaking his head. "Great...just my luck..." he thinks, looking back down at the stained pant leg. He turns around, looking back at the hospital that seemed to precariously loom over the city from the hill its perched on. "Well...it looks I have no choice." he sighs, hobbling his way to the hospital. He really didn't want to walk about town with an open gash and he currently didn't have the dexterity to fix the wound himself.