A/N: The song is Kuka luopuisi kuolemastaan by Ruoska.
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All the work, connected with processing the four corpses, in addition to officially registering one Nicholas Piberius Wilde as a Deputy Sheriff of Bunnyburrow, took half the night. During this time Judy had to endure half an hour questioning of her "backup" that arrived well past twenty three hundred mark. Extremely irritated, the bunny was nevertheless grateful that the new fox was well versed in standard ZPD protocols and took care of documenting and securing the scene until the coroner's arrival tomorrow. She just had to deal with a ton of paper pushing. Despite all the progress transferring actual work from paper to portable electronic devices, the amount of work that was needed didn't dwindle. On the contrary, the number of forms and stupid questions seemed to double, effectively negating all the time saved. For an "n"-th time, with "n" easily being over nine thousand, Judy tried to look positively at this - they just to keep all the mammals on the other side occupied with something, or fire half of them. Bureaucratic machine workers wanted to eat like all the other mammals after all.
That's why her new deputy found her with a strained smile and a twitching nose nearly at four in the morning suggesting he get somewhere to rest for the day and get back to work the next day at eight hundred sharp. The fox tod just snorted in response and sent her off to sleep. Nick promised to take care of things in the early morning with the coroner, removal of the bodies and cleaning of the Sheriff's HQ first floor. At first thinking to protest, Judy remembered that in front of her was not your average Joe, but a mammal heavily modified to ensure his functioning in conditions other mammals would find unbearable for a number of reasons. And the tod didn't seem to show any signs of fatigue, so the bunny took his proposition, telling him to wake her up at six thirty. With a nod from her deputy, the sheriff dragged her feet upstairs once more and plopped on the couch. Soon the bunny was soundly sleeping, never noticing the russet furred figure that threw a maroon colored coat over her still form.
When Judy woke up, she felt rested enough to get through another grueling day. For some reason the doe was surrounded by a faint familiar smell. That of machine oil used to lubricate parts of trucks and machines used at her farm. The source was a cloak that served her as a makeshift blanket. With a start, as her eyes landed on the digital clock hanging on the opposite from the sofa wall and then to the closed curtains on the tall windows, she realise that the reason for her rested feeling was a full seven hours long sleep she didn't experience in a while now. Sweet-cheese-n-cracker'ing, the bunny doe leapt out from her impromptu bed and raced for her laptop. Unlocking it, she immediately was met with her ZeBat window and a number of marked mails, received from nine till ten, all having a reply to them already written and sent. There was also a sticker attached to the keyboard that read:
"I would like to discuss security measures to be taken by the office ASAP. Took me only half a minute to access your account, which is unacceptable.
d'Sheriff N. Wilde."
The signature made the doe snicker, but his admission at spending thirty seconds to break through her crafty combination of symbols letters and numbers irritated her to no end. Anyways, she better go check how all the other things were going.
When she finally reached the first floor, her eyes registered the lack of bodies and other damages from the previous night, aside from the little dents from disks. As well as some commotion coming from the direction of the central entrance. Surprisingly, all of the windows were curtained, and the front entrance glass doors were covered with what the doe suspected was a mirrorfilm - a thin film that hid what was happening inside but still allowed for seeing what was going on outside. And what she saw made the bunny doe pinch herself in disbelief.
During the time Judy Hopps worked as a Sheriff of Bunnyburrow she learned one thing. In the eyes of the press it never mattered who or what you were. They would get what they wanted no matter what you tried to do to oppose them. They were the bane of her existence even more so than the criminals she tried to track down, put into jail, and make the charges against them hold.
But there, just outside the central entrance to Sheriff's HQ stood an orderly line of reporters, their operators several feet behind them, all listening intently to what the fox was saying. The soundproofing of the building was much better than one would think, so even with her excellent bunny hearing, Judy struggled to pick anything beyond stifled mumbling. Curious, the doe slightly opened the front doors, so that she could hear what her new deputy sheriff was saying.
- ... concludes the overall description of the events that transpired yesterday evening. The identities of the criminals will be revealed in due time as the investigation progresses. Mr. Reginald, your question. - The fox, standing straight, legs spread and hands held behind his back as if on military duty, inclined his head to a tall brownish hare from Burrow's Herald. The buck was known for his provocative and aggressive attitude when taking interviews, especially from predators that came to or lived in the Bunnyburrow. Judy internally groaned at what would happen this time only to blink in surprise.
- Yes, sir. You mentioned that this was a try on Sheriff Hopps' life. What led you to such conclusions and does the Sheriff consider any other options. - The hare seemed to be a completely different person than what Judy knew him to be. Respectful, collected, to the point. What the cheese and crackers was transporting in front of her?!
- The circumstances of the attack as witnessed by myself and recorded by the CCN. As well as the fact the armaments used by the assailants were of military grade. This, as well as established connections of apprehended individuals. More information I cannot disclose for the safety of said individuals and the ongoing investigation. Currently this is the main version that fits all the facts. There are other versions, undoubtedly, but even in case new facts supporting either of them are established, the handling of the case and charges against the assailants will not change. This covers all I can disclose in regards to shooting. Now, as promised, two questions in regards to the staff of Bunnyburrow's Sheriff HQ will be answered to... - With this, Nick made a show of looking over the crowd of reporters, most of them mammals half his height.
- Mr. Wilde, has your species been taken into consideration when you applied for the position in a predominantly small prey populated region? - Cried out an ewe in the middle of the crowd, only to be drowned out in a flurry of voices that followed her outburst. Questions were shouted without any regard for order that governed the place just moments ago. They ranged from the more simple ones like "why did you become a cop" and "why here" to more harsh "how did a fox get to be a fox" or "why should predators be put into position of power over the majority of population, prey". Just like Judy remembered them. Maybe their initial fear of the fox has finally passed and they didn't feel any need to behave again? Anyways, the doe thought the situation to be out of anyone's control, back to its customary chaos. That was until a loud thundercrack sundered the air.
- Need I really remind you all about the consequences of your behavior? - Judy wished she could see the expressions of the journalists and the tod himself. Boltguns were rare after all. And hearing one shoot was not something mammals were used to. The silence after the shot was nearly deafening.
- Ms. Lovebrood, Mr. Snapper, I will be waiting for your arrival at nineteen hundred sharp. In case of any problems on your side please notify me through the newly established chat group. - A snowshoe hare, Luna Lovebrood, who relocated to Bunnyburrow a bit less than two years ago with her widowed father, and a lean coyote with a rare Old World name of Severus Snapper were the only reporters to remain silent with their hands raised high during the commotion.
- Now, aside from Ms. Butterfluff who I inquire to stay behind, disperse. I will notify you all of the next press release in a few days or when there are significant findings in regards to the try on sheriff's life. Good day to you and take care. - Judy had to give the fox due credit. While he behaved in a way she never expected, acting as someone who owns the place in spite of a large number of reporters used to push and pull law enforcement officers as they pleased, there was no way to deny his natural charm and the mesmerizing power of his voice. He was a splendid orator, both keeping the crowd enthralled and on edge, afraid of him and liking him. He reminded her a bit of the way her father spoke with his young children, strictly yet with care and sincerity. Though she wondered what punishment awaited the ewe.
- Ms. Butterfluff. As Deputy Sheriff, I must make sure that you and your colleagues follow the established rules of interacting with the police representatives during press conferences. Your outburst was unwarranted and in violation of protocol. You are banned from the next press conference. - The ewe didn't look too pleased, but she just swallowed whatever response she had at the tip of her tongue and simply nodded.
- Good. Though, not as a deputy I must say that sometimes rules have to be broken. Sometimes one does have to go through all the restrictions and obstacles to get to the truth, so I cannot actually begrudge you from trying to get an answer to a question you didn't think you would get the chance to ask. And you were right in supposition, I wouldn't have picked you. But you now have another channels to ask questions, don't you? As such, I will have to ask you to refrain from shouting out your questions if you want to have any exclusive information. Use the chat group. It may not be as fast, but at least it will save you from being banned next time. Good day to you. - Once more, the sheep just nodded and turned away from the fox, mumbling something under her breath, outside of Judy's hearing range. Just as the ewe was about to make her fifth step, Nick called out to her.
- Since your question was important in my opinion I will give you the answer. No, I wasn't asked about my species or judged by it. The only requirements were professional compatibility with the job and size. I doubt you would want a gerbil as a Deputy Sheriff, or an elephant. - With those words, the tod turned back to the central entrance and with a purposeful gait started moving to it.
Meanwhile, Judy was starting to think that maybe this whole endeavor of hers wasn't as bad as she was afraid at first. At least her new deputy could handle the press, mails and all the other communications apparently too. But, this was only expected from Number Fifteen. The doe now only wondered how he would show himself during the fieldwork when shooting wasn't involved.
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A/N: So. It was fun reading the several comments that tried to guess in Nick's Alistaja designation number. But, it also made me realise that I am a bad character portrayer. Oh well, I guess I am not that surprised or disheartened about this finding...
Who am I kidding, when was the last time I cared about being bad at something? I don't remember, and I don't care.
Nick's number is 15, by the number of Thousand Sons legion led by Magnus the Red, also known as Cyclops, One-eyed, Crimson King. They were the legion of psykers (mages of wh40k) and sought knowledge above all else. Magnus envisioned one day humanity consisting of only powerful psykers and saw his mission in helping his father Emperor of Mankind in guiding humanity to this glorious day. And hoarding knowledge, off course. All knowledge. Even the one that was better left forgotten.
I am in no mood to describe my thought process on why, though. So tired from writing, Want to put so much into words, but the actual action of striking the screen of my phone irritates me to no end since it's so slow.
AS such, anyone can agree or disagree on Nick's number. I don't really care, since I am the master of all the letters here! So, suffer.
P.S. To the guest who commented on my mistake in the previous chapter - my deepest grattitude. I thought I corrected it before posting, but apparently something went wrong somewhere. I am not publishing your comment though for obvious reasons.
Howleys.
