OOC: It's very interesting that nearly everyone has been shot so far has died. Usually the wound to death ratio is around 3:1.
Natasha watched the street several blocks down emit an eery glow, fire. Natasha hurried her pace, the click of her heels against the pavement was rapid as she watched a shadowy figure lurk into an alley.
She grabbed her radio immediately, "Dispatch, there's a burning building in District 5. Possibly arson. Possible suspect, I'll see if I can question them."
Her radio crackled back in response, and she drew her I-19 and before proceeding to the alley. Her ears were alert, patiently waiting for any signs of an intruder. Natasha reached for her flashlight, the arc of light sweeping the alleyway. Nothing, she thought. "Pulovich, something seem strange to you?"
Her radio was silent for a moment before a response came through, "Yes. Quite a bit of activity today, I count eleven bodies today."
This seems strange, Natasha thought to herself, we'll have to tighten security a bit. She picked up her radio. "Dispatch, this is Kriev'sapri Dereski. I suggest we allocate another patrol to District 5, there's been a large amount of activity today."
She watched a police cruiser drive to the fire, which was contained on the first floor. Ozian structures were especially resistant to fire damage, so only the bar would burn. Officer Pulovich, Natasha's partner, got out of his car and watched the fire idly. Natasha checked the alleyway one more time before turning around and signaling her partner. "Suspect got away," she told him as a crowd began to grow. Even at night the streets were a bit crowded, everyone walked everywhere, and the city was one of the most active in the world. The poorer side of town was a bit quieter at night, but Ozians were now crowding the street to observe the unusual fire. Natasha sighed, she had had a long day. "I'm going to punch out, can you watch the area and wait for our replacements. I'll write up a report tomorrow." Pulovich nodded with a frown, his violet eyes seemed to glow red in the light of the fire. She patted his shoulder, walking back to where she had parked.
About an hour later Natasha walked into the coffee shop, finally taking off her ushanka. Her cheeks were a rosy red, chilled by the cold wind, but her coat had kept her warm. She looked for the Dire Repaski, finding him sitting in the corner alone. She pulled her hair out of a ponytail and let it fall to her shoulders while she watched him talk to another man she did not recognize. Natasha walked over to him, nodding to the interesting man. "Excuse me Dire, would my key be ready?"
