Chapter Forty: Elder Gone Wild!

As a three star celebrity, Nathalie frequently gets calls from people claiming to be one of her agents to get out of her funk and have a night out in one of the local clubs. After talking to Ned, she finally heeds the advice and decides to visit the Moonlight Club. Life is for the living after all, and she's never been to a club before! "Plus it should be some good exercise, it should stretch muscles the treadmill just can't." Nathalie thinks as she looks warily around the flashy dance floor.

She's pleased to find out that nobody else besides the bartender is there this early in the evening, so she's free to try out all her little old lady groovy moves!

She feels the music flow within her, the passion of living all around her. Life couldn't be better, and yet there's still a lingering sense of regret. Nathalie shoves that wayward feeling aside, reminding herself that she'll be able to share the afterlife with Ned. She just needs a break from grieving, that's all. "But why does my smile feel so forced?" Nathalie thinks to herself sadly as the music slows to a soft pulse. "At least my children are happy and well." She whispers as she walks out of the club, alone.

Tyson decides to check out a lead after work, knowing that if he got any good information, he might get a promotion. He visits the Chinese Takeout place near the subway, intent on information. Okal Zweena's shoulders are hunched tensely, and Tyson instinctively knows that it's going to be hard to get any information out of this guy.

"Here goes nothing..." Tyson murmurs to himself before confronting the man.

"You are no welcome here. We do nothing wrong, you are just bad police." Slate-grey eyes stare Tyson down, giving him a intensely cold glare that makes Tyson want to run off and forget about becoming a police officer. Tyson takes a deep breath, he cannot show weakness in front of this man.

"I'm not here to put you under arrest Mr. Zweena. I just need a few moments of your time to answer some questions." Tyson forces himself to stand up straight, imagining himself as an iron rod. Intimidation seems to be the game he's going to play, either that or the tough family man who's a criminal just to protect his family.

"You police very obvious. You trick to reveal my secret, I not protected. I die, you no care. I have daughter, she too young to understand a dead father." Tyson can't help but think of his daughters, especially as young girls, but he knows he can't relent. He chose to be a police officer, chose to rein in his rebellious side and do good for the community. Okal Zweena chose his lifestyle, and he needs to face the consequences of habouring criminal's secrets.

 

"I have children too, but I haven't traded myself out to protect them." Tyson says sternly, watching the slight trembles and the added lines on the man's face. He's going to crack soon.
"You no understand. Valobos will feast my blood, then your blood. He hateful, nasty man. He control you with single glance, he stronger then all police combine. Nothing stop him." Okal's voice crackles, and it makes Tyson wonder if he actually regrets becoming one of Valobos' goons. It doesn't matter at this point, but it makes Tyson have some compassion for the man.

"Your daughter wouldn't understand her daddy being stuck in jail for most of her childhood for keeping the secrets of a fucked up prick. You need reveal the secrets of Ernie Valobos now or else I'll be forced to arrest you for obstruction of justice. And believe me, I can spread rumors in the tank that can get you killed before Valobos can even reach you." Okal visibly gulps, he knows that Tyson is a rookie at the moment, but his easy-going ways make him a valued part of the force. He can be the dirtiest cop out there, and nobody would suspect a thing.

"Checkmate!" Tyson thinks triumphantly as Okal starts to spill the goods about Valobos. He's surprised to find that he has managed to steal over a million simoleans from banks, local stores, and various other places. What a rich bastard! It makes sense in a way why Okal would align himself with the powerful vampire, his livelihood is protected if he joins Valobos' leagues.

Tyson immediately switches into some comfy, tired of being in that stuffy uniform all day. Hell, today he just doesn't want to be a cop. Being the bad cop sucks! Especially when a small part of him wonders if he would actually go through with his threats. He just feels like crawling into a ball and screaming until the world gets the fuck out his way.

Irish sees that her father is tense, and offers to play a game of chess. Tyson smiles softly at his beautiful daughter. Irish may be a bit shy, but she has a knack for understanding just what people need.

"Dad, you alright?" Irish asks with a small frown. Usually Tyson's cheerful after work, so this withdrawn attitude is new to her. Tyson shrugs, unsure of what to say.

"Today just was tough honey. I got a great lead, but I had to be a bastard to do it." Tyson's voice shakes slightly, guilt leaking through his carefree facade.

"Oh, Dad." Irish whispers, she's never seen him so serious before. Usually he's making a joke, and even when he gives advice, he has a happy glow about him. "You're a good cop, sometimes the bad guys just make it a bit harder to stay good." Tyson nods, but Irish thinks he still seems unsettled. "It's alright, we all make mistakes. Let's go to bed early and let it go until morning." Tyson nods distantly as he puts the chess pieces away.

It's morning, and Isadora is determined to make the perfect breakfast. 

"It can't be that hard to make waffles!" She exclaims unhappily as she takes out the blackened pastry.

Irish tries to cheer her Dad up by laughing lightheartedly burnt pile of waffles, despite feeling disgusted by having to eat the disgusting breakfast. Tyson just wishes he was still in bed. He's still sullen and doesn't speak to anybody in the family.

Tyson leaves after taking a few unhappy bites. Irish sighs, and Isadora, mouth full of syrupy black waffles, gives Irish a questioning look.

"Dad's just sad, he had a bad day of work last night and he's not over it." Isadora scrunches her face, she's never been really good at helping with other people's problems. "I think we need to cheer him up Isa, it's not good to let him sulk for this long." Isadora shrugs, better then any idea she had. She finishs up the last bite and rushes out the door.

As Irish waits for the dishwasher to finish up scraping the last remains of those horrid waffles, she worries about her Dad. She's always been closer to Tyson, and it hurts her to see him this sad for doing his job.