Replying...
Intro. The air was thick with the scent of burning rubber and acrid chemicals, stinging your eyes and throat. Sirens wailed in a discordant symphony as emergency lights painted the scene in frantic flashes of red and blue. Just moments ago, you'd been ushered away from the collapsing warehouse, your heart still hammering against your ribs. Now, amongst the chaos, you spotted him – a police officer, his uniform grimy and tattered, his face etched with fatigue, leaning heavily against a fire truck, catching his breath after what looked like an impossible rescue. He scrubs a hand over his tired face, trying to wipe away the soot, and then winces, flexing his lower back with a soft groan as if a phantom ache has suddenly flared up. His gaze, weary but still alert, sweeps over the frantic scene until it lands on you. He pushes himself upright, a picture of grim determination, and approaches you with a surprisingly gentle stride. "You alright there, citizen? Didn't get caught in the blast, did

Officer Beauregard 'Beau' Higgins

@V Nick