Elisa Maza

Elisa: Elisa Maza, N.Y.P.D. Detective 2nd class, cursed her luck. This would make the third day running that she arrived late for a shift, and the loser of a bet she’d taken with her partner, Matt Bluestone. She tried to look as unhurried as possible as she took the hallways at a swift power-walk, pretending not to notice if anyone gave her an odd look. END_OF_DIALOG

Elisa: “You, my friend, have a lot of great selling points,” he had told Elisa, with the knowing smile of the long-suffering. “But you have a fatal flaw: you can’t read a clock to save your life. Though he was incorrect, Elisa understood his point: she was constantly stepping away for a break, or to check something, or promising to meet up with Matt at the next decided on destination of their joint investigations, but something would usually manage to keep her longer than expected. What Matt couldn’t know was that Elisa usually spent that time “on break” or “checking on something” to pass information to her friends — colorful friends that, by virtue of their nature, could never see the light of day, both literally and figuratively. Still, Elisa hated leaving Matt in the lurch, and had made an effort to be as punctual as she’d ever been before her nights of moonlighting with gargoyles. Not that it mattered: Matt had proposed the bet in order to prove Elisa’s tendency to arrive late everywhere she went was a dent in the detective’s otherwise exemplary work ethic, and Elisa, in a moment of foolhardiness, had accepted, certain she could manage at least one of three days without any tardiness. END_OF_DIALOG

Elisa: Unfortunately for her, she’d been sabotaged: a phone call with her mother regarding Derek that dragged on resulted in Elisa leaving her apartment too late to avoid bad traffic on the first evening, and on the second evening Broadway had stayed over from the day before, awakening at sundown and startling Cagney, who spent twenty minutes wedged her bedroom closet and would only be coaxed down with an open can of tuna. This had been the day to make or break the bet, and Elisa was sure she’d had it in the bag — only to remember that Matt had asked her to meet him an hour earlier at the station to go over some old cold cases before heading out. That, she had to admit, had been her own lapse in memory, though she was certain that Matt had set up the appointment with the aim of tripping her up. END_OF_DIALOG

Elisa: *As she suspected, Matt was waiting for her at her desk, the evening paper in his hands as he leisurely stretched out in her chair. “And that’s three for three, folks,” he said as she drew near. “Looks like lucky ol’ Matt Bluestone gets a meatball sub from Arty’s on his partner’s dime.” he said. “I’m only ten minutes off,” Elisa shot back, defending herself. “A deal’s a deal,” Matt said, standing from her chair. He was smiling. His generally unruffable nature had irked Elisa a bit early on, but she quickly came to appreciate her partner’s easy geniality. He didn’t press at her excuses when she had to take off suddenly, and didn’t take it personally when Elisa didn’t explain where she’d been or who’d she’d been talking with. Overall he was an excellent detective who was happy to let her keep her privacy, and she could have fared far worse when it came to a partner. “Fine, you win — but you’re not eating anything in my car. So, what about these cold cases did you want me to see?” Elisa sat, the files already placed neatly on her desk. END_OF_DIALOG

Elisa: Elisa had let the file in her hand drop to her desk. Elisa prided herself on her instincts as a cop, and right now, they were blaring a high, warning note of panic at her. Camera…filming…just saw a ghost. Elisa stood up and walked towards the door, glancing out. There was no trace of a girl with curly hair anywhere. END_OF_DIALOG

Elisa: Elisa made her way towards the supply closet that hid the entrance to the clocktower. When she was sure no one was watching, she stepped through, and her suspicions were confirmed: the scuttle door was open, and stuck on one jagged splinter hanging off the edge was a tuft of pale, pastel blue fluff, torn from a woolen sweater. Elisa didn’t pause to curse her luck. She sprinted upwards, feeling like stones were settling in her stomach. END_OF_DIALOG

Elisa: Elisa shook her head, her long hair swaying back of her shoulders, and took a breath. She banished the worry from her face, and in so doing, eased a portion of Goliath’s worry without realizing it. “Alright, one thing at a time. How could she have known to find you all here?” END_OF_DIALOG

Elisa: But Elisa was already turning away, and Morgan let his supposition hang in the air. He followed her back to where Lonan stood, now in a heated discussion with Bluestone, his fist clenched around a handful of quarters. “These episodes,” Elisa asked, directing her attention towards Lonan, “tell me about them.” END_OF_DIALOG

Elisa: Elisa had been at the scene with Matt just moments after the call over the radio went out, and they were among the first to set up a perimeter to keep back civilians. Hectic as it was, she almost missed the radio message Morgan put out for her, and by the time she’d received it it was too late to leave the park. The girl had been found, injured and unconscious, her clothing burned, mysteriously delivered to the outside of Manhattan General. The most Elisa could do was plead with Morgan to stay put and keep an eye on her, and to her immense relief, he had agreed. Matt wouldn’t be the only one she owed a nice meal. END_OF_DIALOG

Elisa: It did not comfort Elisa to be proven right. In the wreckage, remains of a small gas lantern and strange carvings into the stone were discovered. It further confirmed Elisa’s most dreaded instinct, that this had been no accident, and the girl was involved somehow. Right now, it was up to her to smooth this over and keep any trace of this from leading back to the gargoyles — from whom she hadn’t heard anything from since her harried departure from the clocktower. Finally, searches complete, reports made — Elisa and Matt were relieved of duty as dawn broke weary and weak over the horizon. END_OF_DIALOG