send me a [Ariel] sign

[Talon Nathaniel Monroe]

Talon wished he could say that it was a lie when he told himself that he didn’t want to go home. But to say that it was a lie, would be lying in and of itself, and as much as it pained him, he had to acknowledge the facts.

His home, a tiny ramshackle townhouse on the other side of the city from the police station, could hardly be called such a thing. He didn’t own much, so it wasn’t exactly decorated, and Talon had neither the money nor the motivation to really put an effort into making actually look lived in. He slept and sometimes ate there, and that was about it. It was a dismal place to head to at the end of a long day like today, especially when he had to walk the two miles to and from – if he could have been allowed to sleep and basically live at the station, Talon Monroe would have.

Because it wasn’t just the fact that the place was depressing to come home to. Living alone took its toll on Talon – a man that had once thrived on love and attention and company found living alone utterly devastating, and quite depressing when it came right down to it. Maybe he should have been used to it by now, it had been almost six years since he’d moved out of his uncle’s house and he’d been living alone since then… but even six years hadn’t been enough for him to grow used to the loneliness. There was almost never any food in the fridge to make for dinner, partially because he never had time for the stores, but also because he just never knew what to get, or how to make it. It was true – Talon Monroe lived a relatively sad life, one that was sad and lonely and it was one that he despised.

But there were always things that brightened his day, so there was no need to think that he was a depressed kind of man. The sun was going down and so the streets of New York were starting to darken, but there were still people out and about. Most just glared, but there were a few that flashed him grateful looks, or small smiles. Those were the people that Talon lived for, the people that he at one point had helped over his few years in the police service already. Some of them looked pleased to see him, and others just turned away – half of them never wanted to admit that they’d been helped by a dinge, but it never matted to him. It was the people that smiled that made a difference; when you lived your whole life used to some kind of discrimination or another, there was a part of you that was just able to shrug it off, ignore it.

Which was why when he heard a, ”That’s right, boy, you keep on walkin’,” Talon didn’t even pay any mind. The only thing he did pay mind to, however, was the sound of someone crying for help two streets down. And like a dog hearing its name called, Talon straightened. He might not have been on duty, and he’d left his gun back at the station (he never carried it home if he could help it, he absolutely hated the thing and, quite frankly, he was positive that folks wouldn’t react well to someone like him carrying a firearm), but that sure as hell didn’t mean that he wouldn’t step in if someone needed him. It didn’t matter who it was, how they’d react to him showing up – someone needed help, and to him that was all that mattered.

”Thief! Thief!”

Talon whipped around the corner, to find a weedy middle-aged man looking rather huffy and enraged, but there was no doubt in his mind that this was the man who’d been crying for help. ”Which way, sir?” Even though he was only met with a glare, and a sharp non-response that was only a jerk of the head. It might not have been a warm reception, but it was all the answer he needed, as the officer shot off down the alleyways and pursued hotly on the heels of whatever thief was unfortunate to break the law on his side of town.

The thing about Talon was that he was quick, and he knew these streets pretty well. It wasn’t long before he heard the pattering footsteps of the assailant. Gritting his teeth, Talon kept on the pursuit, and it wasn’t long until he had the boy cornered in one of the quieter alleyways. Anyone else might have been worried about being back here unarmed and alone, but not Talon. He was on a mission. ”Alright then, mac, listen, I’m Officer Monroe, but I’m not here to arrest you, alright?” He might not have had his gun on him, but he opened his jacket to reveal the shiny badge as proof of his identity. ”Look, I’m just tryin’ to get that man back what you owe him. So just hand back what y’nabbed off him, and we’ll call it a day.” He held out a hand for the aforementioned valuables, assuming this thief had them on him.

Though, when he looked too closely, a part him was fairly sure that this wasn’t a boy at all.