[Sodium_noir] A saturday in Darktown

[eagandigh]

Maurice
Black guy on bike
En route to Club Harlequin

Maurice drove fast through Gotham's streets, his leather coat billowing
up behind him. He passed a store called 'Mike's Place - Rare Books and
Assorted Supplies'. He had never noticed that place before and wondered
if there might be some interesting books about Mesoamerican gods and
other crap there. He turned the bike around and stopped before the shop.
It seemed to be open, still. A sign read that its opening hours were
from noon till 1 a.m. Quite late. But first things first, he thought,
and drove on.

Raindog's he didn't really notice and kept right on, eventually turning
north and right into Uptown. The streets got a lot cleaner and looked a
lot safer than in the south. He passed the police HQ and was on his way
to Gotham Park and Club Harlequin when he noticed a police car behind
him, which gave a signal for him to stop.

It had been a quiet night for Sgt. Wesley O'Donell and his partner
Vincent Parelli. They took their usual turns through Uptown Gotham and
only had some minor incidents to handle up to now. Some traffic
offences, handling a domestic dispute and telling some students at a
party to keep the noise down. Routine work. They just had passed near HQ
and drove north when they noticed a guy on a bike. O'Donell looked at
his partner. It was an expensive Japanese model and a black guy with
rasta locks and billowing leather coat drove it. And, contrary to safety
regulation, he neglected to wear a helmet.

O'Donell gave a horn signal and the guy parked the bike at the
sidewalks. The cops had a routine. Both would get out of the car and
while Parelli stayed behind to cover his partner, he would look at the
licence plate and check it with the computer, if necessary, while
O'Donell walked to the driver, one hand at his gun in its holster. It
was routine, nothing unusual. But something about that black guy creeped
him out. O'Donell couldn't tell what it was, but, being in the force for
16 years, he trusted his instincts. "Good evening, Mister. Traffic
control." He said.

The guy turned around. An ugly scar seemed to seperate part of his face.
That guy's eyes seemed to burn as the bore into O'Donell. Usually,
O'Donell knew how to handle creeps and other rejects coming out of
filthy Downtown. And a fucking nigger out of Darktown was suspicious
here, especially if he drove a bike like this, which was probably
stolen. But that guy creeped him out, he realised he had goosebums on
his arms. The cop had stopped a few paces away from the biker, unsure
what to do. Then, the black guy grinned at O'Donell and somehow all
suspicions fell away from the veteran cop. [OOC: Presence 1,
Charisma+Performance 4]. "Good evening, ssir. 'ow can I 'elp you?"
O'Donell walked over to Maurice. "Well, just a standard control, nothing
serious." He smiled. "If you could give me your driver's licence,
please?" Maurice nodded, than said in a sad tone: "Unfortunatly, I 'ave
forgotten it at 'ome. It won't 'appen again. I 'ope it issn't so bad."
O'Donell waved it away. "No. No problem, sir." He spoke up to Parelli.
"Can you check the licence plate, Vincent?" The other cop looked
doubtfully at O'Donell. "Everything's okay?" O'Donell nodded: "Yeah,
everything's fine." Parelli went into the car and came back a while
later. "Seems okay, it's not reported stolen and is licensed to a
Phillipe Ribaux." Maurice still smiled. "Well, everything seems to be in
order, Mr. Ribaux. But don't forget to carry your driver's license next
time and please wear a helmet. It is for your own protection." Maurice
nodded. "Ssure, ssir. Ussually I carry my lissensse wiss me. And wear a
'elmet. I was jusst in a 'urry. It won't occur again." O'Donell saluted
and said: "Well, have a nice evening and drive safe."

Maurice started his bike again and drove off. He was furious. What were
these fucking, stinking cops thinking. He wanted to rip their heads from
their bodies and drink them dry. But that wouldn't have been a very
smart idea. If he had been anyone but himself, he would have been busted
by these racist pigs. In their little skewed world a black on a bike in
Uptown must have stolen the bike and was probably ready to kill the next
guy to rob him or rape the next white bitch he encountered. Fuck them!
He reached Club Harlequin at last and parked the bike in front of it. He
was just ready to enter, when his phone rang.

[TBC]