I finally finished a new part for my personal characters. I’m aware it’s been a while, and this part has been half-finished for quite some time, so I apologize. This takes place a day or so after the murder of Wes. (Italics also aren’t transferring via copy-paste, sorry).
Also, Happy Easter.
Callia stared at the looming building belonging to Outopian Wings. She didn’t often visit the city’s radio tower, as she wasn’t typically the one to deliver news to them from the Quill.
But she’d heard rumors -as a journalist does- and decided to arrive early and volunteer for the job, to learn for herself if there’d been a murder nearby.
It was a terrifying idea, and Callia hated it and wished it weren’t true with all her heart. But she knew she’d be more satisfied in the end if she found out for herself rather than wait for other reporters to tell her something second-hand and slightly convoluted.
Thankfully, there was no sign of the actual crime around the radio tower, and Callia was able to relax a little.
As she stepped forward to enter the tower, she caught a quick glance at the building down the street, which had a door forced open at one corner and lights on. It could be important to her investigation.
She hesitated for a moment before changing directions and heading towards the strange disturbance.
“What’s going on?” Callia called out, poking her head inside as she pulled a notepad from her messenger bag.
A man looked up from where he stood over a cluttered desk. “Miss? Are you supposed to be here?”
“I’m a reporter,” Callia explained hastily. “What’s going on? Is this a crime site or something?”
“This room belonged to the young man who was murdered last night,” the man told her simply. “I’m here to check if anything was stolen, but it doesn’t seem that way. The person or people who went after him must have had some other reason, beside his connection to Outopian Wings and the government.”
“Oh.” It was more like a sigh than anything else, confused and concerned. Why would anyone want to kill this man in the first place?
“Is it okay if I. . . take a look around?” Callia asked cautiously. She received a nod of consent, and started to examine the room a little more closely.
It slightly resembled her own room, in a way, with the assorted furniture and inconsistent lighting paired with a few messy piles of books and news reports to be looked over. It was slightly more serious, though, with dark gray walls and a board pinning important pieces of information and a map of Outopia to the wall.
“Who. . . lived here?” Callia wondered aloud, unsure if she wanted an answer. It was weird to think about how just a few days ago, someone was there who never would be again thanks to someone’s selfishness.
“Like I said, a reporter from Outopia Wings,” the man replied, stepping aside for Callia to get by. “His name was Wesley Kossa, or just Wes.”
Callia dropped her pen in shock, scrambling to catch it again in time. There was no way. . . it couldn’t be the boy she’d just met a few days before. There was no way that was a coincidence.
She flipped open a notebook on top of the stack, scanning the first page. The name was there, along with the calendar date and several messily scribbled notes and stories.
She took a deep breath, steadying herself. Disbelief and fear rooted themselves in her racing thoughts.
What did this mean, for both the city and for her? Was wes somehow part of something she didn’t realize and he didn’t explain? Who was responsible for something so wicked?
“Did you know him?”
A worried voice broke her concentration, reminding Callia that she wasn’t alone.
“I- I wish I knew him better,” Callia managed slowly. “We met a few days ago. He was setting up a project to help the city. . .”
She fingered the soft pages of the notebook, eyes skimming over the ink and words.
“This is the project he was telling me about,” she breathed softly, recognizing her name in one of the columns. “I guess he got pretty far into it. He seemed devoted, at least.”
Though he unfortunately didn’t get very far, it appeared. Too few people knew about this project that Callia believed was actually so important to Outopia.
Callia sighed. She knew, and she wanted to do something about it. It was the least she could do, right?
Whatever she could do about it.
She wasn’t sure yet, but she carried the book back outside and held it carefully. She’d figure out some way to honor Wes with this. His plan could still help save Outopia.
“No-one can judge your worth; They can only influence your judgement of your own worth.” ~Elysso