shut you out - - -

[Devon Olivia Walker]

It had been a day longer than Devon cared for. She had been woken at the crack of dawn to make her way down to the scene and it turned out she was going to be under the command of the most sexist detective on the force. Whilst the rest of the officers got to do the things Devon usually liked doing, she was stuck consoling the grieving wife and daughter of the victim. Sure, she had lost her brother and understood what they were feeling, but she was the kind of girl who always felt awkward in those situations after a while. Plus, the wife wasn’t about to be in any state to answer questions and looked like she had no intentions of stopping crying for some time. Devon couldn’t help but feel that she had been wasted there and could’ve been more productive and beneficial out in the field.

She knew a lot of people thought she didn’t belong in law enforcement, especially homicide, but Devon wasn’t the type of girl who would explain her reasons to them. She’d rather simply prove them wrong; prove that she deserved that detective shield she was striving hard to achieve. Hopefully it wouldn’t be all that long before she got it, even if a certain middle aged detective did seem to be against her presence in the precinct period.
She hadn’t felt more relieved to pull the hair tie and pins from her hair at the end of the shift and feel the loose golden waves cascading down her back again as she changed out of the uniform she loved so dearly. Devon may have lived for the job, but even she needed to escape it sometimes and just allow herself to unwind.

She found herself shortly outside Gotham Comedy Club on her usual walk home from the precinct and smiling to herself, she stepped through the door, helping a family with a flustered mother and three kids with some overwhelming shopping bags before she entered. Her own family had probably envisioned Devon on that route too, especially when she had been dating Nathan. She didn’t imaging that there were many girls who went from high school cheerleader to Stanford graduate to NYPD officer, but here she was all the same and she didn’t regret any of it.
The stage was empty and it didn’t look like there was an act performing for a little while yet, judging by the guys fiddling with the soundboard and cleaning the stage up a bit. She took a seat at the bar, ordering herself a bottle of beer and then smiling about how her mother might have had a heart attack if she realised just ‘how much of a cop’ her daughter was becoming. Sure, if she had planned on getting a drink she could’ve gone to the bar just a block away from the precinct where her fellow officers drank, but it hadn’t been fresh on her mind when she finished for the day. This was just…opportunity, and to be honest, Devon could probably do without the ribbing from her colleagues tonight. It was all harmless banter and everyone got their fair share, but she just wasn’t up for it this evening.

Perching on a vacant stool, Devon rubbed her neck, thinking about how good a shoulder massage would be right about now as she sipped her cold beer, licking her lips as the bitter taste went down and eased the first of her stresses.

[/size][/justify]

• • •

TAGGED! Whoever Cali throws in here!
WORDS! 619
OUTFIT! Cute Chic!
LYRICS! Halo - - - Florence and The Machines
NOTES! <3

[Bryson Kyle Pierce]

New York City really never slept, and Bryce could attest to that; especially since most days, he was right there, in the middle of the night, the crack of dawn with the morning dew, or the dusky hour before the city shone with neon lights. He couldn’t complain, and didn’t since he would gladly wake in the middle of the night to be called to the scene of a crime; no matter how bad or how simple the job turned out to be. That morning, he’d arrived after the first responders with a handful of other CSIs to work the scene. He was the youngest of the team, having just gone through his field training only six months before.

Before that, he’d been chained to the lab, working with the computers, the machines. But it hadn’t been where his heart wanted, and Bryce did everything he could to pass his marksman tests and get a proper badge a gun. He was young, yes, but trained and worked as hard as anyone else to get where he was. Bryce went from the morning scene, to the lab, to yet another crime scene and back to the glass walls once again. By the time he finally clocked out, almost two hours after his actual shift ended, he’d done that trip yet another time. Only one had been a major priority and needed answers quick. Now though, he was done for another day. He just didn’t want to go home. There was nothing there waiting for him but a dog that had already been walked by a neighbour who had a dog of their own.

At the lab, he’d changed from the dress pants he wore to a pair of broken in jeans. He kept the button down on, but undid it to reveal the graphic tee underneath and exchanged the conservative belt for something a little more his usual style. With that, he threw a slouchy beanie on his head, added a jacket and after checking that the safety was on, slipped his sanctioned piece into the waist of his pants at the small of his back. His superiors made one thing perfectly clear as they trained him to become a proper CSI detective; you always had your piece on you, no matter what. And that was a rule Bryce lived by, whether he liked it or not. Shaking his head, Bryce hailed a cab and told the driver his destination as he shut the back door; Gotham Comedy Club.

He wasn’t in the mood to be home, and he wasn’t interested in watching sleazy girls try to get tools with too much cologne and bad fashion sense to take them home for a night of debauchery they’d both regret in the morning. Bryce wanted something that would make his heavy day end on a lighter note. He slipped the driver a few bills before leaving the cab and heading straight inside the building. He figured the doors must have just opened because there wasn’t a host or comedian on the stage yet, but it was looking promising as the crew went through their final checklists. Bryson looked around, spotting an open bar stool. He made his way over and when he was behind the open stool asked, “Is this seat taken?” and hoped that it wasn’t, but one never knew; especially when he himself had taken a couple of dates here when they were featuring some of his favourites.

•Tag• Devon <3
•Words• 578
•Location• Gotham
•Clothes• Nowhere to Hide
•Lyrics• Truth Or Dare//Mariana's Trench
•Notes• <3 <3 <3

[Devon Olivia Walker]

Being a cop really did change Devon’s view on the world and the city she called home. Her own naivety in humanity may have faded the day Frankie died, but she no longer carried an idealistic view of the world in which she lived after seeing some of the horrific scenes she had been exposed to since becoming an NYPD officer. She still managed to maintain a level of faith in the people she met and she refused to let the minority of people who were criminals jade her view of life any more than it already was. Like any young officer she had seen some graphic crimes that had made her breakfast revisit her and the smell of blood was something she was positive she’d never be able to forget, even if she quit the force today.
Devon enjoyed being one of the good guys, despite days like today dragging her down. She liked to know that she was making a difference, helping people sleep better at night, even if right now most of her duties meant climbing through dumpsters or patrolling the streets making sure nothing illegal was going down. She still had another year until she could apply for that gold shield, but Devon was determined to get there and the Captain seemed to have faith that she could do it, especially since she would often stay late, pull double shifts and work harder than most in her division, even if she was on the younger side of her twenties still.

Even in college, Devon hadn’t been a large party girl and she would only really join in when there was a reason to suffer the hangover the next morning. A quiet beer here and there or a night in with a bottle of wine were completely different, so when her old high school friends would invite her out to a club, Devon never felt like she was missing out if she turned them down to stay late at the precinct. It wasn’t like they saw her in the same light anymore, not since Stanford. The blonde, bubbly cheerleader was now climbing through crimes like no one’s business and whilst her old friends were all settling into healthy routines, Devon was constantly alternating between late nights and early mornings, her body pumping with more coffee than any doctor could recommend as healthy.

She enjoyed her work, despite her current feelings, but with another sip of her beer, another worry eased from her heavy shoulders. She ran her fingers through golden waves, shaking her hair at the roots, as though the grime of the day would be gone like that. Raising the bottle to her lips again, Devon jumped slightly at the deeper voice behind her, though slightly to the right. She swallowed the alcohol in her mouth before she choked on it and then turned to look at who had startled her from her thoughts. He looked familiar to her, but then she saw so many people each day and she was trained to notice them more than the average pedestrian, so she didn’t dwell on it too much at first. “No, it’s free.”

[/color] She said with a friendly tone and a small smile. The guy did look familiar though, more so than usual when Devon got that feeling of knowing someone. “I’m sorry, but do I know you?”[/color] It may have been an odd question to ask the guy, but it was really starting to bug her and her curious nature was in overdrive after today.
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• • •

TAGGED! Bryce!
WORDS! 629
OUTFIT! Cute Chic!
LYRICS! Halo - - - Florence and The Machines
NOTES! <3

[Bryson Kyle Pierce]

Bryce wasn’t one of those hard ass cops; he was barely a cop, really. The badge sort of came with the opportunity to be outside the glass cages. He was basically a professional puzzle solver. He went where he was called, collected the pieces of the puzzle and went back to his glass cage to figure out how it all fell together. But it was also just a job, really, and when he clocked out, he left everything behind. Sure, he carried his piece and his badge, but that was habit drilled into him. Bryce was even dreading the day he actually had to use the gun now slipped in his waistband. He was almost comfortable with it now; at least, that was what Bryson kept telling himself.

He wasn’t an expert at compartmentalizing, but he damn well tried since he started working for the NYPD. The things he’d seen since then would have made any man’s heart turn to ice, but Bryce could, wouldn’t let that happen to him. Life outside of work was worth way too much to get caught up in it all; which was why the young detective found himself slipping onto the free bar stool next to a pretty blonde he could’ve sworn he’d seen before. "Thanks," he said with an easy smile of his own. New York was a big city, though, and Bryce tended to think he’d met quite a few people before when it was really a first meeting. He also didn’t think much of it, and raised two fingers to flag down the bartender.

Her words hit his ears just as the bartender stopped in front of them. “Jack and Coke, thanks,” he said to one then turned to the other. He knew there was something different about knowing her from somewhere; because he had to have met her before. He nodded slowly, checking a hip for his wallet for a couple bills. He wasn’t planning on staying long enough to start a tab. “You look familiar, too. I just don’t know from where,” he said, before pulling the cash from his wallet and slipping it across the bar. He was usually so good with placing people when he’d met them before. But it could be they never actually met and Bryce had just seen her somewhere. Bryce took a sip from his tumbler glass, trying to place this woman. “This is going to drive me crazy until we figure it out,” he said, chuckling.

•Tag• Devon <3
•Words• 414
•Location• Gotham
•Clothes• Nowhere to Hide
•Lyrics• Truth Or Dare//Mariana's Trench
•Notes• <3 <3 <3

[Devon Olivia Walker]

Her father kept lecturing her every time she returned to their family home across the city about how she could be doing something so much better with her life, but each time, Devon refused to listen to his advice. Yes, he didn’t like her carry a gun every day of her life and the thought of her actually using it was enough to reduce a grown man to tears. Devon had been someone. She was that prized, happy daughter that everyone wanted to have (in her dad’s blue eyes anyway) and then the day someone killed Frankie was the day they also stole that life away from his daughter. Nowadays, Devon saw crime with almost every blink of her eye and her suspicions and guard were always in place, just in case. She saw nothing wrong with that, but her surviving family did and they frowned a little more each time Devon forgot to return a call or showed up late to one of their arrange dinners.

She felt fine. The word was starting to become overused, but there was nothing to make her say differently. She was young, healthy, determined and so maybe she lacked a bit of a social life, but that was her choice. If she really wanted to, she could change that with just a short telephone call to an old friend, but Devon didn’t want to party, hang out or go shopping. In her opinion, there were so many better things she could be doing with her time that her friends simply didn’t understand. Cold cases to skim over, making notes of her training and where she needed to improve, practicing her aim at the range…the list was endless and Devon didn’t – couldn’t – see a problem with living her life like that. At least no one was getting hurt because of her.

And as for socialising, this had to count, right? She was at a bar, drinking socially, and now there was this guy playing on her mind, though it was to try and remember where she had seen him, not to try and take him home. That, she’d leave to the other twenty three year olds of the city. Narrowing her light eyes, she tried to get her brain to focus, process through the people she’d met over recent years. He definitely wasn’t someone from school and he didn’t look like one of Nathan’s old buddies, which, as vague as those seemed, narrowed down her choices considerably. In fact, they only left her with a handful of possibilities; namely he had been arrested, he was in the academy with her, or he worked in the take-out she always ordered from. At least, they were the only reasons that seemed plausible enough for his identity to be eating away at her like this. Hell, she wanted to be a detective and she couldn’t place one damn guy! Well, that was hopeful. Eventually, she bit the bullet and took another swig from the brown bottle before speaking to him. “Ever been arrested?”

[/color] It was a bizarre question to ask, she understood that, but it was a little easier for her to ask that than state her profession. Whenever she met guys normally, through friends or scenarios like this, declaring her status as an NYPD officer was enough to send them running out of the door in a dust cloud. Either that, or they asked her about handcuffs and that just made Devon want to gag. “Sorry, that was a little blunter than I intended to say it.”[/color] She apologised, chuckling softly to herself as her eyes drifted to the bar-top.
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• • •

TAGGED! Bryson!
WORDS! 643
OUTFIT! Cute Chic!
LYRICS! Halo - - - Florence and The Machines
NOTES! <3

[Bryson Kyle Pierce]

Bryson wasn’t used to not being able to place people, and it was sort of irritating that this girl drew a blank in his usually spot on mind. He didn’t know her from his hometown; it was small, being a college town. But he could swear that wasn’t it. He hadn’t lived there in years and she did not look very old. If he had to guess, Bryce figured she was about his age, if that, probably younger than him. She didn’t look as though she was as naïve or fresh faced as some of the college kids. So he figured she wasn’t in College, at least, not anymore; probably a recent graduate. It was amazing how annoyed he was that he couldn’t figure it out so easily.

His parents had always thought their youngest child would go into something with science involved. But they thought he’d take after his father and become a teacher or put his smarts to good use and become a lawyer, like his brother. Bryce had other plans. Teaching wasn’t fascinating enough, there wasn’t enough adventure, and there wasn’t enough work in teaching. It would be too cookie cutter for the hyperactive twenty-six year old. He needed something that would demand his full attention, something that would easily pull him in until he solved the puzzle. Working in the Crime Lab had brought some of that to him, but it wasn’t enough. He needed to be in the field. That ever present element of danger was there, but it was shadowed with the thought of helping to put another criminal behind bars, helping to take another rapist or murder away for life so they’d never harm another innocent person again. In a way, Bryce was very black and white. He had his good and bad very defined, and worked to keep it that way. His parents would have been happier if he’d done something safer with his life, but Bryce loved helping people, and this gave him that, and science.

Bryce laughed out loud at that one. Growing up, he and his friends had had their fun, but there had been nothing worth getting arrested over. And now, he was the one doing the arresting; well, sort of anyway. Bryson shook his head, chuckling as he brought his drink to his lips and took a sip. “Would’ve been hard to get the badge if I had,” he replied absently. His dark eyes widened and he tilted his drink towards her, careful not to upend it. “You’re the cop from… this morning,” he stated, finally figuring it out. He hadn’t gone through the Academy through proper channels. He’d been a CSI first, a cop second. Some Investigator he was. He should have been on the ball with that one; after all, he’d been trained to notice everything, even the smallest of details. And normally, he could tell you exactly what a room looked like, where everything was, after only being in it a couple times. People he was usually good with, too. But this pretty blonde had gotten the better of him.

Then again, they didn’t exactly run in the same circles. He didn’t hang around the same bars as the rest of the force did, and he was more into acting like a fool and hanging around the comedy club than walking down memory lane at the local cop bars. He wasn’t new to the game, but he still had his outside views of the world and he liked keeping work separate from life. It made dealing with the situations he’d dealt with on a daily basis that much easier. “Bryce, CSI,” he said as a sort of introduction. Bryce wasn’t the type to flaunt his badge, or detail what he did for a living. He generally just told people with worked in a lab, and they took that and flew with it. He’d heard quite a bit from just saying that. He’d been everything from a lowly lab tech to a doctor working to cure cancers. It was amazing what people thought up given just a simple statement to go on. He had yet to have anything guess a CSI, or detective, thankfully, so there was little worry that people would run off scared.

•Tag• Devon <3
•Words• 710
•Location• Gotham
•Clothes• Nowhere to Hide
•Lyrics• Truth Or Dare//Mariana's Trench
•Notes• <3 <3 <3

[Devon Olivia Walker]

To look at her right now, Devon didn’t think anyone would believe she was a cop. Too many people had laughed and asked her to be serious every time and eventually, she had to resort to bringing out her badge, which was something she didn’t like to flaunt. She was proud of her profession, yes, but she didn’t like to use it as though it was the key to getting everything she wanted. She didn’t want people to focus on her as a cop or act differently around her in case she arrested them or threatened to ruin their fun. Young, blonde and dressed in a cute sweater leftover from her winter collection, she didn’t exactly fit the stereotypical role, but then she didn’t want to either. She liked that sometimes they would underestimate her, because it made her strive harder to prove them wrong and she loved the expression on a criminal’s face when they realised she had beaten them at whatever game they had tried to play with her.

Devon had a tough time separating her professional life away from her social. Her guard was always up and the slightest of creaks in the night had her reaching instantly for her gun. Her guard was always up and trusting people didn’t come easy for her. She was the cop who would be voted ‘most likely to lose track of time down in archives’ and it wasn’t uncommon for her to pass out on the break room couch when she wasn’t careful, waking up just in time to catch a shower and a bagel before another nine hour patrol of the city. Yes, sometimes she put her health after her job, but Devon didn’t notice her own exhaustion until the Captain ordered her to take time off, or hinted at how she might be overlooked for promotion if she pushed herself to the point of neglect. That Devon didn’t want. She longed for her gold shield and the chance to pry deeper into Frankie’s case and have the resources at hand to work it in her own time. Right now, venturing to the labs still earned her some odd glances and bemused expressions when she requested tests on evidence. If the detectives didn’t call down first, the techies always seemed reluctant to comply with officer demands.

She was momentarily thrown off guard by the mention of ‘his badge’. She didn’t place him as a cop and Devon was sure she knew the faces of every cop and detective in her precinct. Then, it clicked into place as quickly as it seemed to for him. “You were there too, this morning I mean. Only, you weren’t trying to question the widow.”

[/color] She was still bitter about that though she really had no right to be. Devon was determined to prove herself though and sitting around trying to coax answers out of a grief stricken widow was not how she believed an entire day should be spent when she could have been helping out more. It may have been something she needed to do to show the captain she was mature enough, but it wasn’t something she enjoyed. Devon, at times, lacked empathy. She had been there, on the other side of the tape, being questioned by someone in a uniform and she had gotten on with it and her life and sometimes her own experience left her unable to feel whenever someone else was going through it too. At other times, it was what drove her to help them and she did what she could to bring them peace. It was a burden and a blessing in so many ways.

Downing some more of her beer, Devon accepted his introduction with a small nod. “Officer Walker. Devon.”[/color] It was a habit how she gave her professional title, but she quickly recovered with her first name after a short breath. Hopefully he wouldn’t notice that she hadn’t spoken it like that intentionally. She was tired of hearing murmurs and lectures about how she was throwing a young life away into the job, burying herself in the darkest sides of the city.
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• • •

TAGGED! Whoever Cali throws in here!
WORDS! 693
OUTFIT! Cute Chic!
LYRICS! Halo - - - Florence and The Machines
NOTES! <3

[Bryson Kyle Pierce]

Bryce shook his head. “That wasn’t my scene or I would’ve been the first over there. I was at two others after that, and it took my boss until that last one to actually assign me. I was just gopher most of the day,” he said. What did that say of the NYPD when one of their own was disgusted with their actions? He was almost ashamed to admit to people that he had a badge. Of course, no one usually believed him until he produced the badge for inspection in the first place, and the chances of anyone asking if he were a cop were very close to nil. He didn’t look like any cop he’d ever seen before, and he sure as hell didn’t act like a cop. Bryce took a swig of his drink before setting it down on the provided coaster.

Bryce turned his attention to the stage momentarily to see if the show was starting any time soon. There was too much on his mind from his day that he wanted drowned out in fun and jokes. Comedy and childlike antics were what Bryce used to cope with the job. It was also another reason he spent so much time with his nephew, Markus. He was good at compartmentalizing but when you were shipped off to three different scenes in a matter of hours; it was then that the job got to you. And Bryce needed the break from it all. He lifted his glass in a salute, “So, Devon, what brings you to Gotham this fine evening?” he asked, before downing the last of his drink and signaling the bartender for another. He wasn’t driving home; he could have a couple more before he cut himself off.

Bryson wasn’t a big drinker. In fact he didn’t drink often at all. It was when he’d had a hard day that a bottle of any kind other than soda made an appearance. He’d learned his lessons in College. NYU was a top rated school, but it was also a great party school; how could it not be when it was in one of the best club cities of the world? Of course, showing up on his brother’s doorstep, above and beyond any form of legal limit, introducing his dinner to the front garden while his brother looked on a laughed like a hyena was enough to tempt him away from ever drinking that much again. And since then Bryce hadn’t.

•Tag• Devon <3
•Words• 414
•Location• Gotham
•Clothes• Nowhere to Hide
•Lyrics• Truth Or Dare//Mariana's Trench
•Notes• It's sucky >.<

[Devon Olivia Walker]

Devon knew only too well what it was like to play gopher most of the day. When she had first joined the NYPD, especially, she had spent nights soaking her feet in a foot spa, convinced she wouldn’t last another day. There had been so much running around, walking the streets whilst canvassing for witnesses or walking from department to department to find results. To this day, she still played the messenger more than she would like to, but she knew it was all part of the job and she kept her complaints minimal, usually just letting it all out to Atticus when he sat on the couch next to her, wagging his puppy tail and nudging her for attention. “I got called out there for extra support. I don’t even think I’d been asleep three hours when the Captain was on the horn, waking me up.”

[/color] She did appreciate the captain calling her sometimes, allowing her to work scenes that she might not be allowed to if she was just another officer, but she also appreciated her sleep and it had been a late night patrol for the young blonde. How she was still sitting upright now was beyond her.

She gestured for another beer and slid the money across the bar top. She wasn’t going to let herself get out of control, but college had hardened her tolerance for most alcohol, so she knew she was safe with a few more and then a brisk walk home to her apartment building a few blocks away from here. The job, what she saw, she never really let it get to her these days. When a case came heavy on her, she forced herself to think back to Frankie’s death and how she had stood near the crime scene for days, her blue eyes fixed on the brown stain on the floor, the blood that was of her own kind. Devon had gone willingly to pay her final respects to her best friend when he was in the morgue and that case, that moment…as selfish as it seemed, it made every other case just so much easier to work. She had faced a cop’s worse fears long before she had entered the academy and it had made her stronger, or so she thought. “Probably the same thing as you. It’s been a long day and I’m not in the mood for the usual ribbing I get at the usual cop bar.”[/color] She confessed with a light shrug, raising her drink to her lips, the condensation from the bottle trickling over her fingers.

Maybe it was the long blonde hair, the bright blue eyes or the fact that she was a rather petite girl, but there was something about Devon that forced her fellow officers to sometimes pick on her more than the others. She didn’t look the part but that shouldn’t matter. She was a cop through and through, more than some of the tough guys who had breezed through the academy in the same class as her. She was driven, more determined and did it for something more meaningful than the glory of saving a life. She did it for the victims, to give them hope when the families felt like there was none. Maybe no one knew of her own personal experience of that, but it was what kept her focused when the detectives came up against a brick wall and sent her to re-canvas the scene.
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• • •

TAGGED! Bryce!
WORDS! 618
OUTFIT! Cute Chic!
LYRICS! Halo - - - Florence and The Machines
NOTES! <3

[Bryson Kyle Pierce]

When Bryson first got the lab job right out of grad school, he’d been used as gopher more than he would have liked, but it was like a hazing thing; all the new kids had to go through it. He didn’t have to get coffee or run errands, thankfully, but he’d been practically glued to the computer, checking finger prints and matching them- or not to people in the databases. It had taken him a long time to get where he was now, and all the crap he had to go through was worth every crappy minute of it. Bryce nodded, he knew that. There were plenty of nights where he could have sworn he’d just laid his head down on the pillow and his phone was ringing for another scene he had to process. “Perks of the job, or lack thereof,” he said, bringing his quickly emptying glass to his lips.

He often found himself at the comedy club when he’d had a rough day. It was a way of relaxing without there being a ton of alcohol involved and he lived a few blocks away so he could easily walk home if he did find himself in the predicament of having one too many drinks. But when he was there, he only had a couple because his attention was usually too focused on the stage and the comedians that the drink waiting for him on the bar. If he somehow got off work before the sun set, he went straight to his nephews house, or school and grabbed him up for a game of basketball in the kids neighbourhood. The ‘burbs were good for something, and that was usually a free court, available for a quick game.

“So not the exact thing then,” he said, signaling for another drink. “I’ve only been to the cop bar twice, at most. Once had been because my boss wanted to buy us all a round after a case was closed,” he said, remembering that night. He’d been wearing a tie because he’d been in court that day, and after he was done up on the stand, he’d sat waiting for the jury to come back with their verdict. He hadn’t wanted to go out after they’d heard the news, but his boss was one of those that didn’t take no for an answer and the entire team went out.

Bryce downed the rest of his drink just as the next was set before him. He set the empty glass down, leaving it for the bartender and reached into his pocket for his wallet and the bills he needed. “I didn’t want to go home right away,” he said, giving her his reason for being at the comedy club. He didn’t have anyone there, waiting for him and after such a busy day, he needed to be around people, people who still had their lives. Sure, he had his dog, Scotty, but the Newfoundland pup wasn’t even at his apartment. His nephew, Tristan had taken him for the night because Bryce hadn’t known how long he’d be at work; and when he had those days, Tristan watched over Scotty.

•Tag• Devon <3
•Words• 527
•Location• Gotham
•Clothes• Nowhere to Hide
•Lyrics• Truth Or Dare//Mariana's Trench
•Notes• It's sucky >.<

[Devon Olivia Walker]

Devon was happy with her job and what she was doing with her life, but it wasn’t so easily accepted by everyone else. No one could understand why Devon put herself through all the tortures of the city in the first place. When she was a rookie, her parents would hear non-stop about the complaints or her sister would see her dragging her feet up the same stretch of sidewalk that she’d been patrolling for over eight hours. It wasn’t the nicest of things to do and there were plenty of other appealing places to be and better things to do, but nothing ever seemed quite right to Devon. Being a cop was her calling and no matter how hard it seemed to be at times, it was where she belonged and what she wanted to do more than anything else. “No one ever said it was pretty or easy.”

[/color] Devon responded with a small smile, tilting her head back with the bottle as she took another sip of her drink.

She smiled to herself, eyes glancing down at the bar top as her fingers brushed against the condensation of the brown bottle in her grasp, now only half full of the dry ale she was consuming. “The local one isn’t always the nicest of places or the friendliest.”[/color] The cops had cliques almost as bad as high school and the teasing that went on down there might have been in good nature, but it wasn’t always the best thing after a long day. They enjoyed a good dig and Devon’s own friendly faces had a variety of nicknames and jokes that were compiled from almost the second they had joined the NYPD and only extended with the more hours and crimes they worked. Devon was commonly known by the homicide guys as “Blonde-ilocks” but they did know she could pull her weight as well as they could. Although, there were a few comments made regularly when things were tough that they should get Devon to pop a few buttons, let her hair down and bat them long lashes. Comments like that were the reason she was here tonight and not there with the rest. “There’s a bit more charm here than the beer stains and the boisterous laughter back there.”[/color]

Devon looked over at him, nodding silently in understanding of what he was saying. Some days, returning to an empty apartment could lead to more thinking, more worrying and more sleepless nights. “Ditto. Though, I doubt this place will be open late enough for me.”[/color] She said, chuckling softly. She wasn’t in the mood to spend the night with only her puppy for company. It was the way most of the time and usually, she could handle it alright, but today with the added frustrations and the annoying habit she had of taking everything to heart. Her parents always reminded her that she could come home if a case was hard or she saw something terrible, but Devon couldn’t stand to see their ‘told you so’ faces every time she returned, momentarily questioning her job and the things she had seen. They just made it harder and tried to make Devon consider doing something better. She was happy, even if today wasn’t up there as one of the greatest.
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• • •

TAGGED! Bryce!
WORDS! 591
OUTFIT! Cute Chic!
LYRICS! Halo - - - Florence and The Machines
NOTES! <3

[Bryson Kyle Pierce]

When Bryce left the lab, he usually left everything behind. It was easier to cope with it all when he wasn’t bringing it home with him. He loved his job, really but it got to people after a while. And that was why he found himself at the comedy club a lot and hanging out with his nephew playing a pick-up game of hoops. Bryce raised his glass in a small salute. “That they didn’t,” he agreed. If it was an easy job, you wouldn’t need to put so much work into guarding your heart, or in his case go through all those years of schooling and then the next couple interning. But he’d put in all the work for one reason; so he could help people. Help them get the answers they needed.

Bryson shook his head. There was a reason he tended to stay away from the local cop hang outs; besides the cliques. The rumours running around the bars were almost as bad, if not worse than high school. Plus the places still had the smell of smoke they’d had when smoking indoors was still legal. “I know,” Bryce said, running his fingers through his already messy hair. Bryce drained his glass, setting it aside. One or two and he was done for the night; and with the topic at hand, he was going through the drinks like water. He’d been a rookie, and promoted because of his status at the lab. Oh, he’d proven time and again that he was a cop as well as a lab rat, but it didn’t seem to matter that much; which was yet another reason he tended to stay away from the local dive. “Well, I can’t speak for the rest of the regular patrons, but it’s a nice little place.”

Bryce shook his head, chuckling. “It’s not, but it’s a start at least,” he said honestly. On the nights that he just couldn’t go back to his empty apartment, and he couldn’t disturb his brother at his, he hailed a cab and hit the Marquee. The music was louder, the place wasn’t as smoky, Bryce could actually breathe there, and he wasn’t mocked or ridiculed so he liked it a hell of a lot better for that alone. It was rare that he would end up there, but it did happen and what the comedy club didn’t make him forget, the Marquee did.

•Tag• Devon <3
•Words• 404
•Location• Gotham
•Clothes• Nowhere to Hide
•Lyrics• Truth Or Dare//Mariana's Trench
•Notes• It's sucky >.<

[Devon Olivia Walker]

Devon, while focused on promotion and the dreams her career would bring for her, tried not to bring her work home with her. There were days when the images of what they had seen, or the voices of the stories they heard just seemed to float around the young officers heads, but those were the days that they usually banded together and rallied around those who were suffering from the horrific scenes of human nature. Those nights were usually spent in the bar, eating greasy burgers, talking about the days in the academy and laughing at each other in a good hearted fashion. Tonight she wasn’t bogged down with the gory details or the shock of what human beings were capable of. It was just that feeling of being trapped. She knew that she was climbing her way up the ladder, she knew it and heard it from her peers, but it still didn’t make days like this any easier when she was made to feel as though she had no real value within the team. The Captain had told her differently on several occasions and she knew that sometimes working with the family of the victims brought out the best results, but today? Today had just ground her down until she was relieved when her shift was over.

The young blonde let out a long groan and then lowered her head, bringing it back up as she brushed the long golden locks from her face. She shook her head slowly and then looked up at her new companion. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to sound so pessimistic about everything.”

[/color] She said with a half smile. She usually didn’t let herself get like this, but to use a familiar phrase, it had ‘been one of those days’. Normally, she would go for a late run with her dog or do an hour or two at home with an exercise bike, but tonight she just lacked the motivation for it all. “I usually don’t let the job get to me like this.”[/color] She explained quickly, though she figured he might understand what she meant without much detail. Almost everyone in law enforcement had their low moments at some point, as she had been told numerous times before. It was just important not to lose yourself in them when times did get tough.

She smiled softly and wearily propped her head up on her hand. “Yeah, but I have another semi-early shift in the morning. I think the rest of my woes might have to be slept off with a restless night and a lot of coffee come 6am.”[/color] She joked, stretching her back slightly. The job certainly ached when it was a long day, but Devon had grown accustomed to it now and could usually survive without too much fussing about herself.
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• • •

TAGGED! Bryce!
WORDS! 507
OUTFIT! Cute Chic!
LYRICS! Halo - - - Florence and The Machines
NOTES! <3

[Bryson Kyle Pierce]

It was hardly Bryson’s dream and goal to become a cop. In fact, if anyone had told him when he was in high school that he would become a cop, he would have laughed in their faces. And yet, here he was with a detective’s badge on his hip and a sanctioned piece snug in the waistband of his jeans. He hated it, though, wished he didn’t have to carry it around. But that was part of being a cop, all part of the job to serve and protect. Bryce could feel himself starting to unwind from the days work. His had been tough, but not as tough, he knew, as the beat cops. He didn’t have to patrol for eight hours and then write up useless reports on the matter. He went from one location to the other, grabbed a coffee in there somewhere and then sat in a lab for the rest of the time, working out the puzzle pieces.

Bryson smiled, lifting his drink to his lips. “We can’t all be blindly optimistic like Strawberry Shortcake,” he said before finishing off the last of the alcohol he’d drink for the night. Bryce waved his hand, waving away any explanations; there wasn’t a need for any. The hyperactive lab rat knew all about the highs and lows of the job. He’d been there many times, and that was just when he was only a lab rat. It was only recently that he found it was worse being on the streets. At least he got a reprieve, running off to work in silence in the lab. Those beat cops didn’t get the luxury of running off like he did. “We all have our off days, don’t worry about it,” he replied, pushing his tumbler away.

The room was starting to fill up with people looking for a laugh, but Bryce barely noticed them. Like them, he was there to let off some steam, laugh a little and enjoy the few hours he had to himself before walking back to his apartment and crawling into bed. Though he didn’t really have to fall into bed the moment he walked through the door, his shift didn’t start until early afternoon; he did have to go out the next morning with his nephew. He cringed at the early call time. He’d done it before himself countless times, but that didn’t stop him from thinking getting called in at hours only owls were awake. “Coffee, the cure to everything,” he chuckled.

•Tag• Devon <3
•Words• 418
•Location• Gotham
•Clothes• Nowhere to Hide
•Lyrics• Truth Or Dare//Mariana's Trench
•Notes• It's sucky >.<

[Devon Olivia Walker]

The one good thing about being a cop was that you were never alone. There were always others to share the pain or the heartbreak of a horrifying case and the more veteran officers had seen it all before, knew the best way to handle it and took the rookies under their arms when they could see them on the brink of the abyss, the breaking point looming and threatening to send them into a dark place they wouldn’t be able to climb out of so easily. It was like a family, but the kind that didn’t share too much and kept their distance from each other’s personal lives because it was important to hold something close that wasn’t related to the precinct or the crimes that they faced daily. It was one of the things that Devon really did appreciate about the job. They had their partners and they knew them well enough to notice the warning signs before they struck and it was that sort of partnership that made everything so worthwhile at the end of a bad day. Even when she tried to insist that she was fine or that nothing was bothering her, there was always her partner seeing through the lie she had fallen for herself and bringing her back to her normal self.

She smiled at his words, a small chuckle even making its way up from her throat. At least he was in the same line of work as her and understood where she was coming from. There may not have been anything exceedingly grotesque or irritating about the work she had put in that day, but she was certainly frustrated with the lack of movement that had been made that day and the fact that she had been unable to provide anything valuable for the detectives. “So, is it too forward of me to ask a near total stranger why he became a CSI?”

[/color] Devon knew that a lot of people with more personal tales didn’t like to share them with others, but she was programmed to interrogate and she wanted to take her mind off today with chit chat that wouldn’t drag her mood even further south.

The noise in the comedy club was making it a little harder to hear now, but Devon didn’t mind. The noise of conversation was soothing for her after today and sometimes, especially after working homicides, hearing how alive people were and seeing the city spring to life was exactly what she needed to drag her back from the dark corner she would often seclude herself in. It wasn’t a good place to be and the captain had spoken to her once or twice about keeping her head above water. It was valuable advice, but Devon was the kind of girl who didn’t even notice when she was drowning. “Well, it got me through college so I’m sure caffeine will get me through detective training.”[/color] She joked, draining her bottle again and staring at it, wondering whether another was a good idea or not.
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• • •

TAGGED! Bryce!
WORDS! 511
OUTFIT! Cute Chic!
LYRICS! Halo - - - Florence and The Machines
NOTES! <3