Episode One: Rookie At The Lighthouse

Corin dodges in and out of the bustling crowd headed through the streets of Cliffside Port.

His green eyes dart over the people he passes, taking in details, studying faces. 

Some are youthful, filled with hope and flushed with purpose. 

Others are worn with years of worry, always wondering how to put food on the table for a family.

Still others are mischievous, darting in and out somewhat like Corin.

Grubby faces of children light up as their hands find choice bits of coin in a passing stranger’s pocket, or some just watch with empty looks in their eyes. Corin stalls a bit when spying one child sitting on a shipping crate, seeing the world go by with apathy reflected in his face.

The empty expressions are the most unsettling, as they’re often accompanied by foggy grey in one’s eyes. Infused. Most people would shake their heads at the ones infected with caroban, sadly proclaiming that there’s no hope for them. They live a dismal life, often anger or depression slowly tearing them away from what life they had. Corin doesn’t think that there isn’t hope for them, he believes that they just needed help. Out of instinct, one hand touches the leather sheathed flask of saritus by his side. Help from the Rebel Prince.

A little boy nearby snatches a woman’s wallet straight out of her purse. The lady, too distracted with her own offspring, hurries on. The boy watches, then heads back down an alley, grinning.

“Hey there. . .” Corin goes after the boy at a swift pace. The child stops, eyeing Corin suspiciously. Corin comes to a halt a comfortable distance away, but close enough to mark the kid’s frayed jeans and raggedy sweatshirt. Another family lost to caroban.

“That’s not yours,” Corin says gently but firmly. He runs his fingers through his red-brown hair, awaiting a response.  

“And why not? Finders keepers!” The boy protests, holding the wallet closer.

“But it’s not yours. The lady needs it. Give it back, please?’’

“What if you just take it for yourself?’’ the child squints.

“I won’t, I promise. You can come with me, and I’ll prove it to you.” Corin kneels down, a smile playing on his lips.

“Neh. Take it.” he shoves it into Corin’s hand and makes to dart away.

“Wait! I have something for you.” Corin stands up. The boy stops. “Here. . .” Corin holds out a few slips of stiff paper.

“What are these?’’ the boy asks curiously.

“Food tickets. Most stalls in the market will accept them.”

“Ohh. . . thanks!” he grins, revealing a few missing teeth, then runs away. Corin smiles and turns back towards the street. There she was again. . .

That brown-haired, blue-eyed girl that he always seemed to run into. It was like he knew her, but not really. Or had he known her?

“Corin, is that you?” Her soft voice startles him a little. He stops a moment, a memory stirring inside of him.

“Doe? Arr Doe?’’ he asks with a surprised grin.  

“One in the same! Salutations! How are you? I haven’t seen you in. . . quite some time, now!” Her face blossoms into a smile, revealing straight white teeth.

“I’m great! In fact, I haven’t seen you since…” his expression dims at the recollection. “Um. Yeah. Since they disappeared. How are you?’’ Keep it cool. . . don’t make things awkward, don’t get sad.

Her face falls for a second. “I’m okay.” She takes a deep breath. “What have you been doing, then?”

“I’ve started work as a detective!” Corin replies brightly. “Speaking of, I think I have-- Oh, I’m late. That’s actually my signature move, but I still need to go.” he drops his wrist and grins awkwardly. “Where can we catch up?’’

“The book shop?”

“Er, which one?’’

“Oh, I didn’t tell you? See, because my parents are. . . still missing,” Her shoulders slump a tad. “I went to stay with a lady named Mrs. Pennyren. She owns a bookshop, and I work  there.” She brightens again, but it seems a bit forced.

“Oh? I have a guardian now, too. Looks like we still have things in common.” Corin tries to chuckle, but there isn’t any humor to support it. “Well, I’ll see you there after work then?’’

“Sounds great! The bookshop is called ‘Unbound’. But you should get going! I’ll see you later!” She says, and turns to continue on her way, blending in with the crowd of people.

“Bye!” Corin calls as he speeds off towards the Lighthouse, which is the Watchmen central.

A quick glance around shows the coast is clear. Glancing out over the actual coast, Corin sees a pair of seagulls flying over foamy waves crashing upon rocks spreading out to the sea. The lighthouse, now turned rebel headquarters, sits atop the cliff, overseeing the endless blue sea melding into blue sky. A strange sickening grey hovers over the lower waters, offsetting the effect. But. . . Corin sighs. It’s still beautiful. He slips inside the lighthouse.

“Detective Rodgers clocking in!” he blurts, skidding to a stop at the front desk, nearly falling over sideways before he rights himself and whips out his identification card.

“Oh. Hello.” A blond young man says quietly as he takes Corin’s card. “The scanner is down, so I have to punch in your ID manually. Sorry about that.” He has natural grey eyes and a nice smile, and is wearing a knitted vest.

“That’s alright. Thanks.” Corin smiles appreciatively, glancing over the familiar office. In front of the greeter’s desk is a wall that acts as a barrier. A variation of chairs and tables are on the nearest side of it, for people to wait who want to see a detective or officer, for people on break, or kids who want to work together on a project. On the other side of it, each Watchmen has their own desk or private office. Divided into Rookies- the beginners, Rooftoppers- semi-beginners, Smashers- graduated Watchmen, and Bashers- who are so good their few offices are in the very back.

A few Watchmen come and go, calling out greetings or heading to the break room for snacks.

“You’re Seth, right?’’

“Yes, my name is Seth River Larken. What’s yours?” He mumbles as he clicks a few buttons on the computer.

“Garreth Corin Rodgers.”

“The newest detective?’’ a pleasant voice behind him asks. Corin turns to see a girl with black hair pulled into a medium low ponytail, several bits falling out like bangs. Atop of that she’s wearing a patterned teal top hat, stuck with a small peacock feather. Corin feels a little dizzy, but not from the sudden introduction of so many characters, ohh no.

“Y-yes. Are you Detective Warren??’’

Becky Dee-G Warren, better known as Dee-G, is the best detective in the Investigation and Research division of the Watchmen. Though they now work in the same field, Corin would’ve never guessed they’d run into each other in the tall grasses of chance meetings.

“The one and only.” she smiles, the happy expression reflected in her green eyes. “Seth, has the forensic report on the robbery come in yet?’’

“I’m not sure, the computers are down. . .” He says, glancing up at her and handing Corin his ID back.

“That’s odd… Maybe I could help you take a look at them. What about you, Corin? Do you like computers?’’ she turns to the slim boy, as Dee-G tucks her hands into her pockets with a case file under her left arm.

“No, I mean yes, I mean I don’t know much about them but I like messing around with them. But I mean, you’re the best detective in the entire Watchmen! And you arm is bionic!”

“Yes it is,” Dee-G agrees, grinning as she glances at her left arm, made of gold metal. All powered with a neutral catalyst, it’s a rather convenient and dashing artificial appendage. Plus, Corin is a huge fan of bionic tech. The more complicated the tech is, the more fun is in store.

“Oh, the computers are back up.” Seth cuts in. His fingers are already flying over the keys. “And yeah, that report came. Do you want it printed or e-mailed?”

“Printed, please.”

Corin bounces excitedly.

“Garreth, would you like to help me on a case?’’ Dee-G turns to him, eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Really? That’d be great! Why my help, though?’’

“Why not? You’re a rooftopper, right?’’

Corin reddens. “Rookie. . .”

She grins again. “Then we’ll have to get you up the ladder, ay? Give me a holler whenever you’re ready to go investigate.”

“I will!” Corin says enthusiastically.

“Here’s that report,” Seth holds out a yellow folder.

“Thanks!” Dee-G takes the folder and waves at Corin. “See ya soon!”

“See ya.” Corin grins and continues on to his desk, pushing his own personal case folder onto it.

Next to his desk is another, at which a blonde girl in a vintage blue dress is sitting. The section is filled with the pleasant rustling of papers and the scratching of pens. Occasionally someone will mutter to themselves as they work on assignments, or in one case, a shout of triumph followed by an embarrassed silence.

When he first joined the Watchmen, he asked Demascus, the lead ‘Basher’ for Cliffside Port and the surrounding areas, if he could have his own case to work on. Once given permission, he started this folder.

Corin opens it and runs his fingers over the old inked in names of his parents. The information was skant. They’d been missing for three years, with no known witnesses and just their membership records to go by. Unfortunately, most of the people who knew them are gone, too. Doe’s parents, for instance.

Gone. . . but why? And who was responsible for it?

A gnawing doubt in the back of his mind makes him wonder if they had left. . . just because. It wasn’t entirely uncommon, Corin has seen it happen before. Parents, work-worn, probably infused with caroban and already exhausted just up and leave. That’s why there’s so many orphans in Cliffside Port. That’s why Ragamuffin Alley even exists.

Corin snaps the folder shut with a low groan. There are so many unanswered questions, it’s insufferable. Was someone responsible for kidnapping people? The Usurper is behind it, for sure. . . He knows that had has to find them. But where to begin? Did the Usurper hire bounty hunters? Was it all one person?? What purpose did it serve??? Did it have--

Corin snaps out of his reverie, glancing around as his fellow rookie spills coffee on herself.

“Here. . .” he hands some paper towels to the blonde girl.

“Thanks.” she smiles, but his thoughts are already elsewheres.

Later, Corin is heading for ‘Unbound.’ The bookshop. He’s thinking about Doe; the way she always wears long dresses, the way that she used to get so worried if anyone was upset, or how she always seemed to be smiling while humming a tune.

He steps inside, taking in the lovely book smell and the various details about the rest of the rustic building.

He hears soft footsteps, then sees Arr Doe, stack of books in hand, heading quickly for a small cart. The stack is large, and it sways precariously as she tries to make it to the cart without dropping everything.

“Hullo. . .” he says, unsure of how to proceed.

“Oh, hello, Corin. How are you?” She grunts as she drops the books onto the cart.

I’m wondering if we’re still going to be as good of friends as we used to after months of awkward passing each other at crosswalks. Except, neither of us have moms to talk to each other during said passings so we’re naturally forced to stand there and engage in conversations of our own.

“Great!” he smiles.