<div class="floatleft">(http://i1264.photobucket.com/albums/jj499/MzHyde/Payne1_zpsde90e142.jpg)</div><strong>-Mona Temple</strong><br/><strong>-The Desktop</strong><br/><br/>"A-and then, that little Avatar kid was trying to sneak past the security point again and there was a huge commotion when th-those those PUNK kids from that Sky whatever game started taggin' everything! It was a madhouse, Detective, I swear! They... they had GUNS, too! They all came at us at once!"<br/><br/>Mona watched people stroll by as the security guard stammered out half-thruths to go along with his boring story. She quietly listened, sucking down nicotine, the cherry red end of her cigarette glowing each time she took a puff. Smoke escaped her lips with every exhale, curling into the air and wafting into the guard's face. He didn't mind. He knew better than to mind. It was like this most days for Mona. She'd put her skills to work outside her game as well, helping organize the Desktop's security force and keep the console safe from dangerous elements and hacking attempts. Real danger was rarely seen, but the security officers (especially this one here) loved to blow things out of proportion. Mostly because they'd never experienced actual danger, she suspected.<br/><br/>"S-so... what do you think?"<br/><br/>He must've finished his story while she was busy not paying attention. Mona dropped her cigarette and snuffed it out under her heel. She shifted her cold, even gaze to the guard.<br/><br/><strong>"I think you're wasting my goddamn time, Porkins. Why are you calling me and not doing your fucking job?"</strong><br/><br/>"I... I, ma'am.."<br/><br/>The guard stumbled over his own words again. Mona was an intimidating presence and she had a rather fierce reputation to go along with it. She didn't care to have her time wasted when there were other, better things to be doing. She turned to the guard, sliding her hands into her pockets. She'd dressed that day in her usual, a white long-sleeved dress shirt, black vest, black slacks. She wore her shoulder holster as usual, CZ-75 tucked into it's usual place. Over the outfit, she had on a black trench coat. She screamed 'Cop!' from head to toe, she knew. She liked the look, though.<br/><br/><strong>"Look, tubs, just keep this place orderly and neat. Play nice with people and maybe they'll play nice with you. You sure as hell don't have the stones to pull off the 'tough guy' routine. They're not gonna buy that shit. So, in the future, don't bother me with this crap. I have bigger problems. You keep it up an' I'm gonna have you followin' fucking Donkey Kong with a broom. Get me?"</strong><br/><br/>Mona didn't wait for a response. She turned and headed into the middle of the plaza, while sliding her notebook out of her coat pocket. Bigger fish to fry, indeed. Strange reports from all over the Desktop and a few games, too. People coming up missing. Something wasn't right. She knew something big was going to happen, but she didn't have a clue on where to start. She just needed one lead to follow..