DaveKri
A brand new day of a brand new week. Unlike other people, you loved Mondays, or at least said that you did. You have to be careful about your opinions, that's one of the key points in keeping the society peaceful.
Which is why you're a cop, hi-po, boy in blue (#Slang) and you 'fucking' loved your job. Officer Kankri Vantas, Unit Number: 00696. It's been almost two months since you've gotten into the force, and since rookies are the ones on patrol, that's exactly what you've been doing as well. You loved going on patrol. You don't see why your other colleagues hated it, but well, opinions are opinions. You had rounds on 56th and Blanco today, and it was one of the more peaceful routes you had. What a good day.
Your partner; Officer Ampora; is a laid-back guy with a penchant for things in his mouth namely lollipops (Warning: Sexual implicati9ns) and the 1950's Greaser look. A pretty nice person, overall, though sometimes you think he tries a tad too hard. Not as if that thought would ever leave your lips. Silence is golden and ignorance is bliss, remember?
He's waiting for you to get in the patrol car, impatiently drumming his fingers along the steering wheel. Of course he had something in his mouth again (#see above) and by his drumming, you'll say it's strawberry flavored. You're very observant, it's a known fact.
Making sure everything is in place with you, especially your standard issue Beretta and your ticket book, you make your way to the car and open the passenger's side, slipping in. Thank God Ampora isn't late today as well, you're sure he got into trouble with that the last time. You don't mean to be rude, but curiosity is in human nature, " Pardon if the question bothers you too much but did you get reprimanded by the chief yesterday? You may or may not answer the question, I don't mind one bit. Some people would rather not relive that sort of experience, especially people of the force. It's a slight pride thing."
He scoffs at you and rolls his eyes. You're beginning to think that he never takes you seriously, right after a week of working together. He literally just brushes off your words, and it's bordering on extreme rudeness. You need to have a talk with him some time soon.
56th and Blanco, so far so good. The neighbourhood was peaceful, and nothing suspicious was going on. You wanted to stop near the park for a moment though, and tell some punk-themed teenagers (#P9tentially 9ffensive) there to tone it down on the music from their radio. Some people might find the lyrics offensive and triggering, and you wouldn't want hell to break loose in a park. And yet Ampora drove on, ignoring your request to stop. He needs to stop being such a difficult person (#Also implied to being a 'dick').
Eventually, he drives the car to a petrol station, needing to refill the tank and obviously get another lollipop since he finished his a whille ago. You decide to get in the store to have something to eat yourself, preferably potato buns or something equally convenient since you'd hate to make a mess in the car. You're so thoughtful, it's somewhat alarming.
Potato buns are what you get and pay for at the counter, and you notice two men at the back aisle as you walk out. You smile as one of them; the one with the shades; follows you out of the store. Policemen are friendly, you had to spread the message. He returns your smirk with a slight curve of his lips, a tilt of his head, and hurries out of the place. You hate it whenever you feel random suspicion creep on you, because it's really rude to be assuming someone to be with bad intention but that was happening right now.
And when the other man from the aisle shouts that his wallet is gone, you know that you should never doubt your conscience again. Good conscience, best friend. You break into a run after the man with the shades, and he seems to have sped up once he heard the other man call for help. He's fast. You have to give him that. Thank God you didn't have much distance between the two of you, and if you let him run still, you'll lose him. You're already a little far away from the petrol station, edging to some housing area and you can't let him go further.
Steeling yourself, you lunge at him, effectively grabbing his legs and sending the both of you crashing to the ground. You scramble up to pin him down by sitting on him, taking hold of his wrists and pressing them above his head. ""You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney. If you cannot afford one, an attorney will be provided at no expense to you. You have the right to not answer questions at any time and request an attorney be present before any questioning continues. Do you understand these rights?"
Perfect. The answer didn't matter anyway (#Disregarding 9pini9ns f9r duty) as long as you've stated that you needed to state. He groans once, but it didn't even sound like he's in distress. The male's hair was blonde, almost platinum blonde maybe, and there was clearly a wallet tucked into the sleeve of his sweater. Amateur pickpocketing. Definitely under theft, and Texas laws are about monetary value on cases such as these. Could be class C or B or A or even a State Jail Felony, since you doubt the wallet's owner had that much dough (#Assumptions) but it all boils down to either a fine or up to 2 years of jail time. You wonder if this is his first offense. From the way he's smirking, you doubt it. One side of his face is against the ground, but he's looking at you from the corner of his left eye.
"So...Officer? You're short."
Oh how mature. He seems as if he's in his mid-twenties, like you, but his actions definitely state otherwise. You shake your head slightly, "Now that's no way of speaking to the person who's about to arrest your, metaphorically speaking, ass. Height is a senstive issue in general despite the fact that I may or may not be disturbed about it, but still. Can't say I expect much from a criminal, of course. Which could be a common stereotype, and that isn't good at all, but you're not proving it to be wrong. Hence me thinking so."
You're used to how people look at you after you speak, it's like one of those cliche reactions to your existence. Usually with mouths agape, and serious disbelieving looks followed by sheepish agreement or silent defiance to what you say. People are weird beings that need to go with order, you don't know why they don't get that. But here you are with this pickpocket, and he's looking at you like you're the best thing that has ever been introduced in his life. You're not sure what to feel about that.
"Hmm, so should I be all polite and friendly with you? Is that what you want? Since you're pretty much all up in my grill anyway, I'd say we're intimately introduced. Name's Dave. And you are?"
What was even going on. You utter a sharp 'Silence' and proceed to pull out handcuffs hooked at the back of your belt. You literally just took your eyes off him for no more than a fraction of a second and suddenly he has his hands out of your grip and is gripping at your own wrist. In reflex, your other hand darts to pin him down again, but no such luck. The tables are turned, and now you're the one on the ground. Shit, how did you even end up in this situation?
"Shh, wait, I got a deal for you," he says quickly as you struggle to reach your taser. You are thoroughly screwed (#Expleti-9h fuck warnings) and you'd be dead if he pulls a knife on you. Negotiate or go on the offense? Conscience, hurry up and think, oh god, why didn't you yell to Ampora or something? Gritting your teeth, you glare at him, all the while trying to push him off you. It physically hurts how easily he holds you down, the 'fuck' is this?
"Whaaat if," he drags, "I give you the wallet and you let me off the hook? Good enough?" You growl (#Animalistic tendencies) at him, you always do when you're stressed out, still trying to shove him off you, "You have committed a crime, and you need to confront the consequences. Letting you off the hook would send an indirect message that it is alright to be violating the law in any sense at all, and it would trigger some other random person to follow your footsteps just because they think-"
And now there's a hand on your face and he's cutting off your speech. How rude. You forget your situation in the momentary indignation, and he's still 'fucking' smirking. He tilts his head, and it's probably you imagning things, but it seems that his eyes are red. "Love to hear you talk, sug, but I think we'll have to catch up later. I'm being a criminal right now, can't afford to associate with a cop, imagine the scandal." He gets off you suddenly, getting far enough so you couldn't reach him and in return, he couldn't do the opposite either.
Surprisingly enough, he tosses the wallet to you, and raises his hands up in mock-surrender. Smirking still. You decide you are now triggered by smug smirks, it's bringing out the worst in you.
"Nice to meet you, Officer. You're welcome. Tell the guy he needs to carry more cash. See you around. Literally."
A wink, and he's gone. You want to go after him again, but 'fuck', you can't afford being that careless a second time. Shitty cop. You're the fucking worst policeman in existence, it's you. Why are you even in the force? What made you think you could do this? (# Self-hate #Self-hate #Self-hate)
You need to calm down, act like nothing happened. Return the wallet, and get the hell out of the neighbourhood. Ampora did not need to know, and neither does anyone else. Maybe Porrim, but you'll go about telling her later.
Inhaling deeply, you get off the ground and brush dust off yourself. Way to go Officer Vantas, you're a failure. You glare at the direction the red-eyed(?) blonde took, wishing all sorts of bad things on him sooner or later (#Pathetic way 9f getting back 9n s9me9ne). You'll arrest his ass(#Slang) someday, see if you don't. 56th and Blanco. Got to keep your eyes even more open when you make your rounds the next time.
One last pat to the back of your trousers before you headed off. But you freeze instead.
Where's your wallet?