evillurks: (Costume change)
On the seventh of January, in what is now 1992 in the Old Tiger's world, a gift shows up in Myra's home in New York. It's a fairly large box, neatly wrapped, and the less she ponders over that the better. On Christmas day a basket of teas and an elegant little dagger showed up, unmarked but too utterly familiar as a seasonal gift from him. This, so soon after, could make her suspect the sinister hand of someone else, but there is a small tag attached to the ribbon neatly marked with the characters Lăo hŭ.

Inside is a silk kimono robe, elegantly embroidered with a tiger. The very nature of the gift borders on daring a familiarity he is usually careful not to take with her, but it is an outer robe, at least. When she lifts it out there is also a small red envelope with a little money, of the sort usually given on one's birthday. It is not her birthday, of course, but on his centennial The Shadow has decided to take a somewhat backwards approach.
evillurks: (action)
The vast network of The Shadow is most put to the test when he himself is not there. Crime in New York does not take a break simply because its greatest foe is busy overseas. It is the job of his agents, then, to make sure that trouble on their home turf at least grows no worse. They must keep an eye on the deeper plots of the criminal underworld, collecting information as they stew, for the inevitable game of catch-up when their chief returns to the city. The increasing globalization of the internet, and a widespread agent use of modified PINpoints helps, keeping The Shadow abreast of developments hours after they occur, rather than days or weeks.

For several weeks, beginning before Thanksgiving, The Shadow has left New York in the care of his agents. He's been making a number of shorter trips overseas, and what he goes to do, even his agents do not know. It is the Burbanks alone, perhaps, who have some clue, as their chief absent-mindedly starts to answer a transmission in Russian. The newer techniques of communicating make it difficult for even his own communications experts to tell his exact location. By the time The Shadow returns to New York, there's much of interest on the news, but the crimefighter is already turning his attention to other things, ready to strike out at drug rings and arms dealer, and all the usual suspects. A vigilante's work is never done.

So close.

Jul. 16th, 2014 09:19 pm
evillurks: (Cranston comic pensive)
Crimes that exist almost solely on paper and in computer banks is some of the dullest to deal with, but not less important for that.
evillurks: (Cranston pleasant)
The Shadow arrives at Ichi's apartment by the door, rather than by PINpoint, and his knock is distinctly different from that of Chaz Walters. He is quick to greet Ichi once the door is open, however, trusting the other man to recognize his voice. "Afternoon. Feeling recovered from yesterday?" There is quiet amusement in his tone. He carries two canes, his own with the ebony eagle's head, and another wrapped in paper. Ichi will have a proper red-tipped white cane for the city streets, and the old man has even brought him a pair of dark sunglasses.
evillurks: (profile)
It is nearly a week after The Shadow's sobering visit to the Nexus before he invites Ichi for a drink.Read more... )
evillurks: (cranston impassive)
The Shadow is hard at work coordinating things from the Rettigue apartment, today. The break from hunting out Khan's activities in his alternate's world is merely an opportunity to chase criminals in his own. Unavailable to gather forces for multiple raids and without the time to head up those operations himself, he's stuck compiling information and passing it to legal authorities through very careful channels. It's a lot of paperwork, and very tedious, but it gives him a physical rest he needs from his other activities.

When Metody arrives, he's in the most worn spot in the whole place; the center of the black plush sofa, bent over the coffee table. He regards his visitor over the rims of his reading glasses. "You've looked better. Coffee or tea?" The paperwork is shuffled neatly into a folder, out of sight.

The apartment is spacious and spartan, with sleek dark furniture. There's a grouping of the sofa and a few black armchairs around a black metal coffee table, all arranged on a vast Oriental rug. A bookshelf built into the wall opposite the sofa holds a television set that is archaic by Metody's standards, fewer books than one might expect, a sleek stereo system, and in spots of honour a card bearing Chinese calligraphy by Myra and the wrappings and knife Metody sent for Christmas. A floor to ceiling window dominates another wall, but the drapes are only open a crack. Apart from the kitchen doorway and a hall, there's little else to be seen in this room. It has quite a bit of open, empty space and the feel of somewhere that is only sporadically lived in.

Sake owed

Nov. 14th, 2009 03:24 pm
evillurks: (cranston impassive)
The Rettigue apartment has sat empty for a few days, as The Shadow worked out of the Sanctum and another apartment across town, closer to the area he's been watching. With another drug ring at least temporarily stifled, he is ready to migrate back to this place that is the closest thing to a home he has.

He is also likely to arrive late to his own arranged meeting, leaving Ichi to jump at the opening of the door. The muted sounds beyond indicate a quiet hall rather than the outdoors, and the rattling cough that accompanies the entrance should reassure him to who is entering there.
evillurks: (cranston thoughtful)
The ordinarily spartan apartment is showing the signs of being inhabited by a man of limited mobility. It is not that The Shadow isn't capable of going up the hall to sleep in the bedroom, it's simply that he can't be bothered. Ever since leaving the Clinics, around the clock, his life has centered around the sofa and coffee table, and the kitchen. He is too fastidious not to put his dirty dishes in the sink, but papers have accumulated around his living room workstation until it forms a small disaster area. The PINpoint is central to the chaos, reading glasses tossed haphazardly beside it. Pens and pencils are scattered on the table and floor.

The Shadow himself is dressed in t-shirt and slacks, and looks comparatively put together apart from being sans shoes. He is attempting to gather the papers into some semblance of order as Myra arrives.
evillurks: (injured)
The recent hate crime is at last sufficient to break The Shadow's self-imposed physical restrictions. Although he knows the wound in his shoulder is very far from healed, he places the case above his physical well-being, assuming the work will be more tedious than strenuous, in any case. The police have no leads at all, as hate crimes are often committed by otherwise ordinary citizens. The neighbours are somewhat suspect, especially considering how late into the morning they reported it, but they are close-mouthed and fairly law-abiding community.
The Shadow is upon the scene the night after the crime, seeking any incriminating clues. What he finds takes the rest of the day's research to produce anything hopeful, but the next night he seeks out a teenage boy that has fallen under his suspicion. His approach is careful, but the boy reacts with first contempt, then fear at the questions that come from the very darkness around him.

When he runs, The Shadow does not hesitate to follow. The boy has a slight lead, but The Shadow's long strides carry him after easily, around a corner, dodging a dumpster, and vaulting over a low fence. He is nearly upon the boy at that move, but as he clears the fence his very breath seems to go very wrong within his chest. Rather than landing with soundless grace and catching the boy's clothes, he stumbles and fetches against the alley wall, gasping. As the footsteps vanish into the distance, The Shadow struggles for air and finds that breathing in feels like the worst thing he could possibly do. He fumbles for his PINpoint, pulls up the default coordinates for the Nexus Clinics, and pushes the button as he sinks to his knees.
evillurks: (wary)
June 17, 1986, AP-Bronx County, Manhattan, New York
On the morning of June 17 police were summoned to the home of the Al-Rahman family to find all four family members dead within. The call was recieved at 7:26 AM when neighbors noticed the front door hanging open, although evidence indicates the attack occurred overnight. The neighbors reported hearing no noises during the course of the night, and there does not appear to be gunplay involved, although the interior of the home was liberally marked with graffiti. Racial epithets and 'go home to Libya' were painted repeatedly throughout the house...


I will catch these murdering bastards.
evillurks: (cranston direct)
Time to talk... )
evillurks: (writing)
Aspirin can only do so much, and The Shadow is past due for a rest by the time he returns to his own world, but there are details to clear up first. The PINpoint makes things easier, but it’s still a chore to return Derring’s body to the bookshop. Physically incapable of dragging him upstairs, The Shadow manages to fine tune the PINpoint to take them both the short distance from downstairs to the upper room where the circle remains. Another trip brings up the books. A few of the volumes strike him as suspicious enough to hold onto, but the rest he dumps beside the body. Garbage bags removed, Derring is left sprawled on the floor with them, his head inside the chalk circle. The Shadow has taken a little time to prepare for this, and brought lighter fluid, which he pours lightly along the chalked line. Bending with difficulty, he relights the ceremonial candles, and tips just one.
From the doorway he watches long enough to see the fire crackling it’s way through floorboards, and slowly working at the remains of the man who caused the trouble. There will be questions, ones the police are not likely to ever find answers to. The bullet can’t be helped. He is too tired to care. When the upper story begins to become a dangerous place to stand, he slips downstairs and out, to call the fire department before any neighbouring buildings are threatened. Then The Shadow slips down an alley, calls a cab in the next street, and makes his way toward the Sanctum. Burbank will be notified. The case is closed, and that’s all the agents need to know.

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