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Daniel Miles: Dishonored

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Daniel Miles: Dishonored Empty Daniel Miles: Dishonored

Post  Lark Dawkins Wed Feb 06, 2013 9:27 pm

Daniel Miles: Dishonored Daniel10

NEW VERSION!

-Part 1
Trust me, I used to be a cop, spent about twenty years on the force in New York.  Started during middle school, ended in a shootout in East Queens.  There was this group of thugs, they had hostages and a bomb.  The moment I reached the room where everyone was being held, the building lit up like a Chinatown firework show.  A metal door saved my life.  It was blown of the hinges and threw me across the alley into some couple's apartment room.  I think I scared them worse than the explosion.

The press made it look a whole lot worse if it didn't seem bad enough as it was.  The reports stated I had used excess force for dealing with a band of hoodlums and that I brought in heavy armaments.  It all went downhill from there.  Even with Chief and the rest of the department backing me up, the backlash from the public was too intense and I had to surrender my badge.

Six months later, I saw the man who seemed to lead the gang from that night. If he was alive, that means I may be able to clear my name. There was nothing I could do from my point though. Confront him? Might end up dead. Constrain him? I'd be back at the precinct, but not the way I'd prefer. He was about to leave the scene, so I snapped a picture of him with my phone and returned home.

-Part 2
My grandfather was a detective.  He would tell me about cases he solved, criminals he apprehended.  The man was a hero to more than just me.  Sure is shameful having family as famous as that, and being in my situation.

I couldn't get him out of my mind as I searched up any little details on the man who cost me my badge.  In the picture I took, he was wearing a jacket with some sort of stylized symbol on it.  Didn't really catch my attention at first, til I saw two others near him with the very same symbol on their clothes.  All I came up with from that were multiple pictures of graffiti.  Some of the locations seemed familiar.  Especially one that looked like a warehouse, like the one down by the waters.  It was an old fishing warehouse that closed after a fire broke out inside and killed thirty or something immigrant workers back in the 1920's.  The city would always announce plans to tear it down and use the land for something new, but it would never happen.  I'd have to check it out, maybe there were connections.

- Part 3
I didn't know where I was.  I swear I went to the fishery, got in by climbing a dumpster, up the side and in through a window.  The catwalks were a perfect vantage point.  I was right.  There was something going on in there.  A group of at least twenty, some were young men; probably still in high school if they haven't dropped out.  And there he was, that maniac who ruined my life.  The empty fishery echoed his speech that seemed to entrance his followers.  He was loud.  I wouldn't be surprised if noise complaints brought the force down here, if it weren't for the entire area being abandoned.  Gotta admit though, the guys pretty charismatic.  Should have been paying more attention though.  A sharp pain struck in the back of my skull and I collapsed on the walkway.  Ears ringing, I blacked out.

Then I was somewhere else, no idea where, couldn't see clearly.  There were lights dancing together in rhythmic unison.  People were talking... loudly, over a siren.  I couldn't move.  Too sore.  Too cold.  My shirt was drenched, it felt like it was trying to choke out whatever life remained inside me.  Someone lifted me onto possibly the most comfortable bed I had ever laid in.  Hell, anything would've been better than where I was right before.  The shouting continued.  I think the bed was moving.  Mr. Lifter shined a light in my eye, didn't dance like the other lights.  The strangler was cut away, never felt so good to breathe.  I just wanted to take a nap, but every time I went to close my eyes, that jerk with the light would slap me awake.  The siren got louder.  I was lifted into the noise as they cut me off from the light.  No more dancers with the tunes?  No fair.  At least they let me sleep then.

- Part 4
According to Rick, I was out cold for about two weeks, wasn't until a few days ago I woke up.  He said that I was checked in for hypothermia and gunshot wounds.  Two bullets.  Both missed anything vital, but just barely.  The doctor said that one of them passed through dangerously close to my internal carrot tide artery, or something like that.  It was a little over three weeks since check in when they deemed me fit for leave.  Rick was waiting outside to drive me over to the station.  He felt it would be a good idea to share my findings so they could launch a full investigation.  Would've been a better idea to do that before snooping on my own.

The ride over was awkwardly silent.  Didn't blame him for not wanting to talk.  We used to have a pretty good history between us, but not til recently.  A few months before the Queens incident, there was this situation at a bank.  The usual, a bunch of robbers with hostages and demands.  Ricky and I went in and took them down.  We didn't realize until after that they were using fake guns.  Didn't go well with the public.  We sort of stopped talking after that, aside from the casual passing by hello.  I couldn't believe the trust we had built up over the years went away so easily.  Sort of ironic that he came to pick me up.



OLD VERSION

-Part 1
Trust me, I used to be a cop, spent 20 years on the force in New York.  Started in the middle of elementary school.  Ended in a shootout in East Queens.  Fucking bastards had hostages and a bomb.  The moment I reached the room where everyone was being held, the building lit up like a Chinatown firework show.  I was thrown down five stories onto an exposed waterline pipe. Damned thing ripped right through my shoulder, I often wonder how I didn't die. The press made it look a whole lot worse if it didn't seem bad enough as is. The reports stated I had used excess force for dealing with a band of hoodlums and that I brought in heavy armaments. Shit really hit the fan from there. Even with Chief and the rest of the department backing me up, the backlash from the public was too intense and I had to surrender my badge....

Six months later, I saw the man who seemed to lead the gang from that night. If he was alive, that means I may be able to clear my name. There was nothing I could do from my point though. Confront him? Might end up dead. Constrain him? I'd be back at the precinct, but not the way I'd prefer. He was about to leave the scene, so I snapped a picture of him with my phone and returned home.

-Part 2
My grandfather was a detective.  He would tell me about cases he solved, criminals he apprehended.  The man was a hero to more than just me.  Sure is shameful having family as famous as that, and being in my situation....

I couldn't get him out of my mind as I searched up any little details on the man who cost me my badge.  In the picture I took, he was wearing a jacket with some sort of stylized symbol on it.  Didn't really catch my attention at first, til I saw two others near him with the very same symbol on their clothes.  All I came up with from that were multiple pictures of graffiti.  Some of the locations seemed familiar.  Especially one that looked like a warehouse.  Yes, I did know it. It was an old fishing warehouse that closed after a fire broke out inside and killed thirty immigrant workers back in the 1920's.  The city would always announce plans to tear it down and use the land for something new, but it would never happen.  I'd have to check it out, maybe there were connections.

- Part 3
I didn't know where I was.  I swear I went to the fishery, got in by climbing a dumpster, up the side and in through a window.  The catwalks were a perfect vantage point.  I was right.  There was something going on in there.  A group of at least twenty, some were young men; probably still in high school if they haven't dropped out.  And there he was, that maniac who ruined my life.  The empty fishery echoed his speech that seemed to entrance his followers.  He was loud.  I wouldn't be surprised if noise complaints brought the force down here, if it weren't for the entire area being abandoned.  Gotta admit though, the guys pretty charismatic.  Should have been paying more attention though.  A sharp pain struck in the back of my skull and I collapsed on the walkway.  Ears ringing, I blacked out.

Then I was somewhere else, no idea where, couldn't see clearly.  There were lights dancing together in rhythmic unison.  People were talking... loudly, over a siren.  I couldn't move.  Too sore.  Too cold.  My shirt was drenched, it felt like it was trying to choke out whatever life remained inside me.  Someone lifted me onto possibly the most comfortable bed I had ever laid in.  Hell, anything would've been better than where I was right before.  The shouting continued.  I think the bed was moving.  Someone shined a light in my eye, didn't dance like the other lights.  The strangler was cut away, never thought it would feel so good to breathe.  I just wanted to take a nap, but every time I went to close my eyes, some jerk would slap me awake.  The siren got louder.  I was lifted into the noise as they cut me off from the light.  No more dancers with the tunes?  No fair.  At least they let me sleep then....


Last edited by Lark Dawkins on Fri Aug 02, 2013 4:13 pm; edited 5 times in total
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Post  BeyondGroovyGaming Wed Feb 06, 2013 10:13 pm

ID tags
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Post  Lark Dawkins Thu Feb 07, 2013 9:42 am

Five smokes, three shots of bourbon and an ID Tag. Thats all Snake needs to save the world.
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Post  Lark Dawkins Thu Feb 07, 2013 1:58 pm

COVER ART!
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Post  Lark Dawkins Mon Feb 25, 2013 5:31 am

PART THREE!
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Post  BeyondGroovyGaming Thu Apr 11, 2013 3:31 pm

I want part 4
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Post  Lark Dawkins Sat Apr 13, 2013 2:03 pm

Hold on, my janitor is working on it right now.
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Post  Lark Dawkins Fri Apr 19, 2013 7:11 pm

NEW REVISED VERSION OF DANIEL MILES WITH PART 4!
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