Roads Untravelled 2

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Raghav Rangan looked down at some of the paperwork on his desk and gave a quiet sigh. Commander Rangan of the Auragrad Police was a hero of the War and a respected policeman after that. He had helped build this city, after all, and ever since he had become Commander the crime rate of this city had gone much down. He was well respected and well known here, or at least feared. That tended to work as well.

How did he get into this job? Oh, yes...

---

2028
"So, why am I here?" Rangan asked Mayor Kagama of Auragrad. Auragrad. What an interesting place this was. It had been built as a human colony in Hell, a large city sprawling across farmland and the remains of the former city that had been here. Vernil's destruction of Dys had smashed up a lot more than just that one city.

But they had rebuilt it. Demons and humans and angels worked together and remade the city and made it work. It was not an easy job, but it had happened. The ISSR and Heavensgate and Alastor's forces and Elfen High had pooled together to cooperate. They named it Auragrad- Demonic for "Rebuilt".

Then the immigrants had begun to come in. Demons from other parts of Hell trying to rebegin their lives, humans from Earth, and quite a few angels who had left Heavensgate. The city was 70% demon, 20% human and the rest were mostly angels. Not many mixed-bloods yet, though it was slowly growing. The city was undoubtedly divided by race- it was no secret that the demons would usually live on the outskirts, the slums, and the humans and angels would live together in the inner regions.

Not that there wasn't tension between the humans themselves. The main immigrant group were Japanese, followed by Indians and the Americans. English was usually the main language spoken between ethnic and racial groups, though in theory the city had the official languages of Japanese, English, Latin and Demonic.

Rangan looked at Kagama. Angel. It was a bit of a compromise- Raphael wanted to make sure that Heavensgate would continue to hold power, so Sanchez had agreed to allow an angel mayor in this city. Besides- angels were pushovers. They could be easily swayed.

Not Kagama. Kagama was...keen. He was clever. He worried Raphael, who leapt at the chance to get him out of the way. It was how he stared at you...

Kagama gave a smile toward Rangan. "Please, at ease." he said. The Indian officer had some trouble with this, but he did take a breath or two.

"What do you need, sir?" he asked. Sir. It galled him to have to say that to this angel. Who the hell did he think he was? Unfortunately, right now, his boss.

"It appears that Chief Nagakama has had a tragic accident, is that not so?" Kagama asked.

"Yes, sir." Rangan stared straight head, at a spot a few centimetres above Kagama's head. Tragic accident indeed. And a pity nobody had been there to see his death.

"Now, in any case, I will be promoting you to that position." Kagama explained.

"And if I refuse?" Rangan asked.

"Then, why, you may walk out that door right there." the angel said, gesturing to a door behind him. It was not the door that Rangan had entered from.

"May I borrow a pencil?" Rangan asked the angel mayor's human clerk, a Frenchman named Alan. He didn't seem to have a last name, from what Rangan could tell- everyone merely called him Alan.

Alan shrugged and gave him the writing utensil. Rangan walked slowly toward the door, opened it and threw the pencil out. Ah. It would be revealed now. The pencil would more than likely fall down some bottomless hole and-

The pencil landed on the cobblestones outside. There was a clinking sound as it did. Rangan paused, turning slowly to Kagama. "Wasn't there a bottomless hole there in our last meeting?" he asked slowly.

"I can't recall, Rangan. Can you, Alan?" Kagama asked. The clerk shrugged and shook his head. "You must be misremembering, my friend."

Rangan picked the pencil back up. "Alright then. You want me as the head of the police watch? After you know my history?"

"Indeed I do." Kagama replied. Rangan shook his head and walked out the door, heading out for his own freedom. Kagama just chuckled. "He will be back."

Alan slowly lay out a piece of paper. There was a death notice for Fahran Singh on it. "The penalty is not yet extant, sir." he murmured.

Kagama raised one eyebrow. "Ah. You think I will point out to Mr. Rangan that under his nomme de felonie of Fahran Singh, he could still be hanged? You think I might suggest to him that all I would need to do is inform the newspapers of my shock at finding out that our honourable Mr. Rangan is none other than that master thief, who had stolen millions of dollars, broke banks and forced businesses into bankruptcy? That I will threaten to send some of my most trusted clerks to check his office and find, and I can be very sure, even if I must arrange for it, several charges of extreme embezzlement? That I will express my horror and shock that such a man managed to escape the hangman's noose? That I will explain to him how easily I can bring a man so low his former friends and family will bend down to spit on him?"

Alan paused and thought. "Yes. I believe that covers it."

Kagama chuckled. "I have no interest in doing that, Alan. It would be impolite and rather cruel. I was raised not to do those sorts of things, you know. No, he'll end up taking the job himself. He feels the need to redeem himself. And the crime rate is a bit high, after all. We need a man who understands the criminal mind."

"How are you so sure he still does?"

"Well, there are many signs and clues, Alan. But the first one is that he took off with your pencil."

---

Rangan looked up. It was his tea break now. And that blasted TV crew would be here, he was sure of it. After the spectacular success of the first Roads Untravelled, a sequel would have to be made. And now his office was being watched.

It had all happened so fast. All this good luck. This city, his family, his life. All this good luck was just too fast. But the city had to be fixed. There were problems and they were big ones. But right now, the blasted TV crew. They would also bring along a few researchers and scientists, in case there was something of interest.

Mostly though, it would just be him and a few of his fellow officers. There had been a murder- Lt. Toko of Nigeria had been found dead in his home. He was a veteran of the War, so in such a demon-infested (occupied, he tried to correct himself, but infested honestly seemed better for him) city, it made sense he would be targeted.

Though the assassin was skilled and killed off Toko's guards as well, the curious thing was that there were two bodies of each- somehow, this assassin was a very clever man. He killed off both the first life and the second life. How he did it would be something to see. But first, the crime scene...

He trotted down the stairs from his office. The Commander of the Auragrad Police glanced at his fellow officers. "Well," he said. "You lot ready?"

[Zarkenis Ultima]

A white-haired, gray-eyed man who appeared to be in his late twenties looked up at the Commander of the Auragrad Police, Rangan, upon hearing his question. The man had been eating meatballs from a stick which he bought from a vendor just outside while sitting on the ground, on a corner of the room.

This man was Erik Newgate, former linguist of the ISSR. He was now a member of the Auragrad Police Force. Even worse, he was a Sergeant.

"Ready!" He barked, and then went back to eating.

[Condunum]

A happy, wise looking man was sitting in a chair in an indiscreet part of the room, probably musing to himself about life and space and all that cool stuff he loves. Then the man who's name reminded him of Regan suddenly spoke, and asked if they were ready.

Carl raised a slightly old looking hand, and waved a small wave with two fingers, and then nodded. "Yep, as ready as I can be." I shouldn't be here. he thought to himself. He didn't care though, because to him, life was an adventure.

[Zarkenis Ultima]

After a few moments, Erik was finished with his improvised meal and so he tossed the stick away, not particularly caring that it happened to puncture a fellow officer's uniform near the area where the back loses its dignified title. Ignoring the yelp of pain and surprise, the 'savage sergeant' as some people had taken to calling him licked his fingers and then looked at Commander Rangan, remembering something he needed to tell him.

Raising his hand to get the police commander's attention, he spoke. "Boss, lost gun and... Radio. Need re... Rep... Replacements." He said, growling out that last part in demonic, because he couldn't remember the right word for it at the moment. Stupid English language and its nonsensical grammar. He could actually understand it but he refused to unless it was imperative.

[Olthar]

Melissa was puzzled about why there was a TV crew to make a documentary about Auragrad, but she wasn't too concerned about it. Perhaps they were here to talk about the reconstruction efforts in Hell. There was quite a bit of destruction ten years ago with that war and that big dragon thing that ate Dys. It was like the end of the world or something. Melissa didn't really pay much attention to it as she was only 14 at the time. She had more important things to worry about, like trying to find bras that actually fit her. Even at such a young age, she was still bigger than most adults. Any bra she found either had a cup size that was too small or a strap that was too big. It was quite annoying.

Shaking her head to clear her mind from the off-beat tangent, the Police Detective smiled as she looked around the room at the others gathered there. She wasn't sure why she was chosen for the mission of escorting the documentary crew, but she didn't exactly hate the assignment. It was surely going to be a boring one, but as the other officers always say, "It's better to be dull than dead." The somewhat inaccurate syntax aside, it was a good point, and even in a city as nice as Auragrad, crime was still a problem, and crime in Hell was usually quite a bit more dangerous than some druggies or a noise complaint.

When Commander Rangan showed up, Melissa quickly brought her legs together and raised her hand in salute, the action causing her ample bosom to jiggle a bit.

"Sir, yes Sir!" she spoke loudly.

[Individuality-ness]

A woman with long dark brown hair and a white lab coat could be seen sitting down at a chair. She was actively studying the potted plant right next to her and jotting down a sketch and its interesting properties for possible exploration in her lab. A wonderful specimen, that, with its blue leaves and green flowers -- but then again, all of the fauna and flora in Hell were interesting. And it seemed to have thrived after the great Abrahamic war some ten years back, after the destruction of Dys.

When the officer asked them whether they were ready, she looked up, slightly irritated that she had been interrupted in her studies of what was otherwise a typical houseplant in Hell.

"Ready for what, officer?" she asked.

Her name? Miss Cassandra Bergman, bioengineer.

[Nationstatelandsville]

"Wait, no!" Gopher's sharp voice suddenly broke, "No! Cut!"

At his call, six different cameras spread around the room stopped rolling and a massive horde of a crew dissipated into the crowd from their hiding places (these people were trained by some particularly bored bears one afternoon). Gopher slithered up to Rangan, practically excreting smugness. With a smile that would get the shit kicked out of him in any other scenario, he wrapped his arm around Rangan and pulled him uncomfortably close.

"So, listen," he said, "you seem like a nice guy. I'm sure you're a good person or whatever. The fact of the matter, however, is that police chiefs aren't Indian. They're middle-aged balding white guys."

He began to wave his hand at Rangan like you would an angry animal.

"Now, before you get mad," he said in an assuring voice, "I don't like it either. But this isn't about my personal tastes, this is about the documentary. Right? OK? I'm just worried about all the people depending on this making money. So, Officer Rangan, if you could step aside, we have an actor for this role. His name is Dan, he has a mustache."

Dan emerged from underneath the couch he had been hiding in. He had a mustache.

At this moment, plucky young Officer 2 entered to begin his first day on the job, defending the law. And then he saw Gopher. And Gopher saw him.

And Officer 2 screamed like a bitch. For the law, of course.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Rangan stared at Gopher in disbelief. He looked the man up and down and found himself highly unimpressed. He turned to the actor and gave a stare. When you can really master a death glare, you'd be very surprised at what you can do. Officer 2 almost melted into the pavement.

He then turned to Gopher, choosing to deal with this annoyance first. "No." he said clearly. "This is not about your documentary. Your documentary is a side story to what I'm really trying to do here, understood? Right now, we're trying to solve a tricky murder. Before we get to that, however, we'll go and take you through our standard patrol and you can talk about the city and whatever you do here." he explained. "Then when we can, perhaps, do our jobs."

He then threw Erik a new radio and handed over a new handgun. "Keep these ones safe." he said. He then glanced at Cassandra. "The new forensics scientist then?" he asked. "Good. We'll be taking this crew through our standard patrol on the way to investigating the death of Lt. Toko."

[Nude East Ireland]

"Yes," replied Mr. Utterson. He was a man of action, not words. Words are for pussies. And pussies are meant to be punched in the face.

That's all I got, OK? Sue me.

[Zarkenis Ultima]

Erik promptly caught the radio Rangan tossed him between his teeth, without damaging it, and took the gun that the commander handed to him, before putting both the gun and the radio away and nodding at him.

"Yes sir!" He said to the commander, and then stood up and awaited further orders, more or less ignoring the documentary people.

[Nationstatelandsville]

Rangan stared at Gopher in disbelief. He looked the man up and down and found himself highly unimpressed. He turned to the actor and gave a stare. When you can really master a death glare, you'd be very surprised at what you can do. Officer 2 almost melted into the pavement.

He then turned to Gopher, choosing to deal with this annoyance first. "No." he said clearly. "This is not about your documentary. Your documentary is a side story to what I'm really trying to do here, understood? Right now, we're trying to solve a tricky murder. Before we get to that, however, we'll go and take you through our standard patrol and you can talk about the city and whatever you do here." he explained. "Then when we can, perhaps, do our jobs."

He then threw Erik a new radio and handed over a new handgun. "Keep these ones safe." he said. He then glanced at Cassandra. "The new forensics scientist then?" he asked. "Good. We'll be taking this crew through our standard patrol on the way to investigating the death of Lt. Toko."

Gopher spat.

"Fine, fine," he grumbled, "Your call, Rangan. We can get it in editing later."

"So, should I..." Dan began to mumble awkwardly. He really didn't want to be so rude to Rangan - he seemed like a good guy - but he didn't want to blow reality TV stars for money even more. In acting, you take what you get or you take Hulk Hogan in the face.

"Shut the fuck up, Dan," Gopher snapped. He turned back to Officer 2.

"You, camera-bitch," he said, "get me a coffee."

"...I'm a cop now!" Officer 2 protested. This was it. He was done with Gopher's shit. He was his own man now.

"Get me a coffee," Gopher said slowly, "or I will bleed you dry, piss in your veins, and keep your heart beating just long enough so you can know what it is to live as a man who bleeds urine. GO!"

Officer 2 whimpered and ran off to get Gopher a coffee.

"Good," he sighed, "Now, where the fuck is Harker?"

[Individuality-ness]

"Yes sir," Cassandra replied. "Where is the body?"

She then noticed that there was a camera crew hanging around.

They never told me that there was going to be cameras when they gave me a contract, she groused. She disliked the cameras, it made her think of the world, all staring at her doing her job, all looking at her through that one single lens. The fact that there were going to be cameras around made her uncomfortable, especially because she preferred working independently.

"Can you tell them" -- there she waved at the camera crew -- "to go? I would rather work without feeling that the world is watching me all at once, and this will be a delicate procedure."

[Nationstatelandsville]

"Yes sir," Cassandra replied. "Where is the body?"

She then noticed that there was a camera crew hanging around.

They never told me that there was going to be cameras when they gave me a contract, she groused. She disliked the cameras, it made her think of the world, all staring at her doing her job, all looking at her through that one single lens. The fact that there were going to be cameras around made her uncomfortable, especially because she preferred working independently.

"Can you tell them" -- there she waved at the camera crew -- "to go? I would rather work without feeling that the world is watching me all at once, and this will be a delicate procedure."

"Listen, honey," Gopher said, smiling a fake smile and speaking in a saccharine voice, "Just do your thing and we'll get someone else to explain it to the kids at home later. Maybe Morgan Freeman. No one watching this will be capable of telling if you fuck up, because the people who watch Harker aren't capable of telling if their shoes are tied. Got it?"

[Individuality-ness]

"Yes sir," Cassandra replied. "Where is the body?"

She then noticed that there was a camera crew hanging around.

They never told me that there was going to be cameras when they gave me a contract, she groused. She disliked the cameras, it made her think of the world, all staring at her doing her job, all looking at her through that one single lens. The fact that there were going to be cameras around made her uncomfortable, especially because she preferred working independently.

"Can you tell them" -- there she waved at the camera crew -- "to go? I would rather work without feeling that the world is watching me all at once, and this will be a delicate procedure."

"Listen, honey," Gopher said, smiling a fake smile and speaking in a saccharine voice, "Just do your thing and we'll get someone else to explain it to the kids at home later. Maybe Morgan Freeman. No one watching this will be capable of telling if you fuck up, because the people who watch Harker aren't capable of telling if their shoes are tied. Got it?"

"They never told me that your crew will be here when they gave me the contract," Cassandra sweetly replied. "But sure, if you fuck up with your wires and your cameras in the way, you can go ahead and find someone to explain it when any evidence that could be brought to the trial is thrown out for being contaminated."

[Nationstatelandsville]

"Listen, honey," Gopher said, smiling a fake smile and speaking in a saccharine voice, "Just do your thing and we'll get someone else to explain it to the kids at home later. Maybe Morgan Freeman. No one watching this will be capable of telling if you fuck up, because the people who watch Harker aren't capable of telling if their shoes are tied. Got it?"

"They never told me that your crew will be here when they gave me the contract," Cassandra sweetly replied. "But sure, if you fuck up with your wires and your cameras in the way, you can go ahead and find someone to explain it when any evidence that could be brought to the trial is thrown out for being contaminated."

Gopher blinked.

"Bitch, listen," he said, dropping the act, "My cameras aren't going to touch any of your shit. I'm a goddamn professional, OK? I don't get the equipment in the shot, it's amateurish. Have a little faith, OK?"

[Individuality-ness]

"They never told me that your crew will be here when they gave me the contract," Cassandra sweetly replied. "But sure, if you fuck up with your wires and your cameras in the way, you can go ahead and find someone to explain it when any evidence that could be brought to the trial is thrown out for being contaminated."

Gopher blinked.

"Bitch, listen," he said, dropping the act, "My cameras aren't going to touch any of your shit. I'm a goddamn professional, OK? I don't get the equipment in the shot, it's amateurish. Have a little faith, OK?"

"I will have faith in your abilities when you and your lenses are gone," Cassandra bluntly replied.

"And no, I was not referring to having wires seen on the video itself. Although with such a large camera and such a small head, I can see why you would make that mistake."

[Nationstatelandsville]

Gopher blinked.

"Bitch, listen," he said, dropping the act, "My cameras aren't going to touch any of your shit. I'm a goddamn professional, OK? I don't get the equipment in the shot, it's amateurish. Have a little faith, OK?"

"I will have faith in your abilities when you and your lenses are gone," Cassandra bluntly replied.

"And no, I was not referring to having wires seen on the video itself. Although with such a large camera and such a small head, I can see why you would make that mistake."

"It won't touch your goddamn crime scene," he said, waving her off, "I'm going to go back behind the camera now and not stab you, because Cameraman 2 lost my knife in the chest of a Native asshole ten years ago and the Earth cops won't let me buy a new one."

Gopher snaked off.

[Olthar]

While the argument was going on, Melissa was attempting to pull her bra up so that her breasts didn't hang so low, but they were simply too heavy, and it wasn't working very well. Then, in an act of defiance due to her constant abuse of the poor, maligned article of clothing, its shoulder straps snapped, sending her love balloons flopping down.

"Dammit!" she shouted out in frustration, "Not another one! I've only got two left!"

Sighing, the over-endowed cop removed the broken bra from under her shirt and tossed it into a nearby trash bin. She then adjusted her shirt to be more comfortable in her now less-confined state.

"I guess it's another day hanging free," she said to herself with a defeated tone.

[Nightkill the Emperor]

"Good evening, motherfuckers!" roared a voice.

Then someone smashed through the ceiling, creating a hole. Howard Harker yelled out. "WOOH!" he said, directly on the ground. He may have broken a rib. "THAT WAS AWESOME!" he waved at the jet that had flown him off.

After achieving success with RU1, Harker had...gone a bit mad with having all the money ever. As you can tell.

"My name is Howard fucking Harker." he told the camera, slowly getting up. "Welcome the fuck to RU2."

Rangan stared at the reporters, with barely a glance at Melissa. "...I hate my life. So much."

[Nationstatelandsville]

"Good evening, motherfuckers!" roared a voice.

Then someone smashed through the ceiling, creating a hole. Howard Harker yelled out. "WOOH!" he said, directly on the ground. He may have broken a rib. "THAT WAS AWESOME!" he waved at the jet that had flown him off.

After achieving success with RU1, Harker had...gone a bit mad with having all the money ever. As you can tell.

"My name is Howard fucking Harker." he told the camera, slowly getting up. "Welcome the fuck to RU2."

Rangan stared at the reporters, with barely a glance at Melissa. "...I hate my life. So much."

"Harker, I am five fucking seconds from killing you," Gopher said, his voice like lead - metallic but poisonous, "I was recording the fucking cops doing cop shit. That shit sells. And you ruined it with your goddamn... you. Just, in every way, fuck you."

He grumbled some more and pointed the camera at Harker.

"Do the thing and get out of the shot," he demanded.

[Zarkenis Ultima]

Erik simply stared on as someone crashed through the ceiling. He was rather confused. Why was someone doing the Garangani manhood ritual here? This person wasn't a demon, or even a hellborn human such as himself, and as far as he knew, that ritual was really the only reason someone would crash through the ceiling. Besides, those didn't start for another five months. It was all a bit confusing.

But then, terrestrials. They're insane, so who cares? Erik just decided to help the delusional man finish his ritual. So he spat on him.

Afterwards he walked back to Rangan. "Sir, when move out?" He asked curiously.

[Individuality-ness]

I think that Gopher and Cassandra can agree on one thing: Harker is fucking annoying.

Cassandra turned to him.

"So nice for you to drop in, my good sir," she greeted him with an extremely saccharine tone. "I am so thrilled that you will be including your obnoxious theatrics in what is a serious forensics investigation.

"Now if you will kindly get out of my way before I set you on fire, then perhaps the two of us can be great friends!"

She turned to the officer in charge. "So, the body, sir?"

[Nightkill the Emperor]

Rangan looked like he was going to cry. But he holstered through it. "Yes. The body. We should look at that first..." he looked at the documentary crew with tired disgust. "You...stay here or come with us. Don't get in the way though."

"Roll out." Rangan said, walking toward the police "car". In all honesty, it was more of a tank, since this thing went down quite dangerous roads. Auragrad, despite everything, was still a very dangerous city with a crime rate higher than that of most countries as a whole. And growing. Goddamn, it was always and constantly growing.

Rangan was quiet at first, but Harker cleared his throat. "So, what made you decide to be a police officer?" he asked Rangan.

"I was asked to help clean up." Rangan said calmly and in a way that stated the discussion was closed. A death glare again.

Harker got the hint, shockingly, and then turned to Melissa. "How about you? Why a cop?"

[Olthar]

When Rangan said to move out, Melissa saluted again, this time causing her ample endowments to bounce around quite a bit more than before due to her now bra-less nature. As she began walking to the police tank, she frowned. She was certainly a lot more comfortable without the bra, but her massive tits flopped a lot more than with it, even when she was just walking. She really hated those things. Not only were they annoying and a strain, but they attracted the attention of virtually every man she met, something that she didn't really enjoy as a lesbian. What's worse was that since she was constantly surrounded by men, everyone assumed that she enjoyed the attention and was, therefore, straight. She hadn't once been able to get a girlfriend since coming to hell, and that was eight years ago. There was only so much she could do for herself, and she couldn't even hire any prostitutes because they all knew she was a cop. Plus, she'd probably get kicked off the force, anyways, if they found out. Overall, it was just a terrible situation, and she was absolutely dying to get some pussy.

Just then, Harker spoke up and broke her out of her internal moping.

"Huh?" she asked, looking up at him, "Oh, well I guess it was because my uncle was a cop before he retired, and I didn't really have anything else I wanted to do."

[Zarkenis Ultima]

When the command was given to roll out, Erik followed Rangan out of the station on all fours, and looked over at the police car. Then, deciding that that could wait, he went over to the food vendor on the other side of the street instead, and, pulling out some helldollars or whatever, he bought more meatballs-on-a-stick. With that done, he went back to the police car, still on all fours, and got in, eating as he waited for them to get to wherever the hell they were going. The crime scene, he assumed, but he hadn't paid much attention.