ㅤ. 𝚃𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝙵𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙽𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎『 ✮ 』.━ [ #NeversideRP ] .ᐟ.ㅤ.

ㅤ.« charities, orphanages and various other public organizations like food banks had just so happened to have significantly large anonymous donations within the past month - which was roughly when the robberies first started. ㅤ.

What do you want to know?.

ㅤ.Time pressed on and so did the Promethean and Chrona. They’d split off from Dyna and Micro - who had left to pay a visit to the ever so elusive Misha Michaels. This had left Chrona and Promethean to search for clues. On their travels they’d found that ».ㅤ.

ㅤ.𝚃𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝙵𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙽𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎.ㅤ : ̗̀➛ 『 𝘓𝘢𝘴𝘵・𝘊𝘢𝘭𝘭 』.· · ————— ·⏀· —————· ·.ㅤ ◤ ᴛᴏᴏɴ ◢ - 3.ㅤ

ㅤ.ㅤ ◤ ᴛᴏᴏɴ ◢.ㅤᴡʀɪᴛᴛᴇɴ ʙʏ ɴᴏᴏᴛᴏғʀᴏsᴇs.ㅤ.

ㅤ.« eyes. Their tax money was being wasted on this crap. ㅤ.

ㅤ.« detective, what about her? ❞. He nodded toward Promethean, fingertips brushing the lobby walls like she could read them like a book. Security Guard #2: ❝ She looks more like swat than police. And that haircut…? Definitely not regulation. ❞. He rolled his ».ㅤ.

ㅤ.« hand gently against her chin. Security Guard #1: ❝ She’s not a detective. She isn’t dressed like one. ❞. She’d comment, arms folded as she stole a glance up at the male security guard. Security Guard #2: ❝ Oh yeah? If you think doesn’t look like a ».ㅤ.

ㅤ.Security Guard #1: ❝ I don’t buy it. ❞. Within the Old Bank District, two security guards stood side by side overlooking the scene of the crime as they watched Dyna crouched over an anvil. The pinkette had a contemplative look on her face as she rested her ».ㅤ.

ㅤ.𝚃𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝙵𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙽𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎.ㅤ : ̗̀➛ 『 𝘓𝘢𝘴𝘵・𝘊𝘢𝘭𝘭 』.· · ————— ·⏀· —————· ·.ㅤ ◤ ᴛᴏᴏɴ ◢ - 2.ㅤ

ㅤ.ㅤ ╰┈➤ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛɪɴᴜᴇᴅ! ≺◈≻ ㅤ.ㅤ.

ㅤ.« And… Scene!.ㅤ

ㅤ.« the hell were these guys…?. The Toon Raiders had done it again! Another flawless escape in the eyes of the law! But even then!. Um… well… every good story needs a twist!. And their next target…? It might get a little complicated… ».ㅤ

ㅤ.« against the rim only to realise… . Huh…. There was a slight ink splodge on his hat. Turning back to the tunnel he realised…. It wasn’t even dry… The ink was still wet…. As he rested his hand against the tunnel one final time he could only think to himself…. Who ».ㅤ

ㅤ.« Police Captain: ❝ What are you gawking at? Get at it! Keep looking! I want those thieves found! ❞. On command, the sirens fired back up as engines roared into life. The police then scattered, returning to the road as the Captain took off his hat and brushed his finger ».ㅤ

ㅤ.« How did they do this?. Police Captain: ❝ The hell…? ❞. Palpable confusion on his face, the other offices in the cars behind him stick their heads out of the windows in observation. With his angry eyebrows, he turned back to his men. ».ㅤ.

ㅤ.« frustration and curiosity. He took a step forward and gently placed his hand against the tunnel with caution - he didn’t want to fall through it. It was solid. It was entirely solid. Well… with the exception of a little wet paint. It was… impossible. How… ».ㅤ.