Post by Elliot Mackie on Mar 6, 2016 2:29:42 GMT 2
Business as usual.
It seemed odd, really, the semblance of normalcy that had fallen upon the collective shoulders of the police department. Nigh unwelcome, even. It provoked in some a semblance of unrest, the feeling that comes when you tiptoe, neck craned, around a corner in fear of might be lurking in the shadows. There were no corners, though, no monsters lurking. Not physical monsters. Only memories, and bad ones, the kind of stuff that keeps even the most sane, reasonable person awake at night.
At his desk, as usual (he should just start living in the office, for god's sake), it was quiet. Too quiet for his taste, almost. Had the heist turned him
The silence was–thankfully–broken by the phone. Not the dispatch line, unfortunately, but it was better than nothing. He grabbed the receiver like his life depended on it.
"Yes?" Elliot inquired, paused to listen before responding. "Don't worry about it. ... What do you mean the dogs? ... Right now? ... Oh. Got it. See you in five."
The K9 unit was mostly out of his hands. He tended to take the dogs for granted, really, especially since he did not regularly work with their upkeep. At the end of the day, they were PD employees, too, and some of the best ones (dogs didn't talk back, after all, and they were always eager to work). Through the halls and across campus he went, willfully ignorant of the half-melted slushy snow outside.
The kennel was meager, as a significant number of the dogs were in a separate facility, but having at least a few on the main campus was a necessity. They were stoic as soldiers: most would barely flinch as a person passed by.
"What did you—oh shit," was all he managed to say the minute he set foot in the place. Speaking of memories...
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