Tales from Precinct 13

[medipack]

Considering forensics would often be involved in performing autopsies, they're likely the front line in dealing with some really fucked up shit if Hannibal and other police procedurals are any sort of measure.

 

[Bardiel]

Isn't the MD usually independent to the Police Department's control? Although if the Precinct 13 setting allows it, people can play character's whom are not sworn officers?

 

[Grey]

Isn't the MD usually independent to the Police Department's control? Although if the Precinct 13 setting allows it, people can play character's whom are not sworn officers?

Yes, but I tend to muck about funding cuts and local ordinances being a bit off.


And yes - volunteer staff for the administrative end of things are possible, or consultants.

 

[Bardiel]

That would get around the issue so.

 

[Dano]

I'd be interested in being a consultant - if this is still open for new people

 

[Bardiel]

A sworn officer, Detective or MD (in this setting), would be preferable, though civilian/administration could work depending on the composition.

 

[Grey]

Well, we have an odd amount of people vying for consultant which is making the whole thing look understaffed.


I've decided to set it in Philadelphia, also.

 

[Alexandra]

Well, we have an odd amount of people vying for consultant which is making the whole thing look understaffed.
I've decided to set it in Philadelphia, also.

Yay Philadelphia. Because reasons.


Boo for under-staffing. I can leave off the Vidocq Society idea for another time if you'd like some regular polis?

 

[Grey]

I dunno, is a detective who is also a member of the Vidocq society unthinkable?


Can I get a concept check from everyone interested?

 

[Dusky]

Eherm. I don't think this helps with the whole shortage on actual department members, but I've got a confidential informant that would suit this beautifully. I'll put a character pitch together shortly.

 

[Dusky]

Oops I accidentally a thing

Introducing: Prosper Lucas, Confidential Informant.

​

What is the worst thing you have ever done?

She sets her fifth glass of wine onto the countertop harder than she probably intended, choking on the alcohol as she giggles fitfully. "We-he-ell, I certainly haven't been a gooood girl if thaaat's what you're asking." She hiccups and puts her face in her hands. "I'm so drunk." She licks her lips. "Water?"


When the bartender comes back with a glass of water, he reminds her of his question.


"Oh! Oooooh, riiiiiiight. Hm! Well, there's the time I sold my own mother out to the cops, buuuuutttt I don't really feel bad about that! Oh... but that kid that I like tooootally set up, I feel bad about him." She frowns. "Yeah, I don't do that anymore. He wound up getting life in prison, you know? You following, Chuck?" The frown is split by laughter; she seems to think the nickname is hilarious. "Wouldn't even have gotten in the damn mmmmmmmmbusiness if I hadn't, like, tried sooo hard to make it happen. Not that I baby them now! I, like... grown-up them." She grins wickedly, then rests her cheek on the rim of her water glass. "Reward wasn't even that good. Ugh, I neeeeeeeed... to not be so drunk. Feel like shit." She knocks back the rest of her water like a professional.


"Can I get another water? And... oh, oh, the moss - motta - mozera - cheese sticks."

What is the worst thing you can imagine yourself doing?

The bartender comes back with her order and more questions. She purses her lips and looks thoughtful. "You knoooowwww... You'd think, spending as much time as I have 'round, like, drug dealers and creepy conspiracy guys, that I might maybe pick up the, um, the work, but I never really wanted to. I get to be an asshole on the cops' good side." Her eyes glint. "Let me tell you something about cops, they are soooo good in bed. This one that I did had guns alright, know what I'm saying, ha haaaa!" She crams a mozzarella stick in her mouth and moans. "Oh, that's good. What was I... Oh, right, worst thing blah blah."


She sits in thought for a moment, silence broken by the sounds of her devouring her food and guzzling back water, before finally she shrugs. "I don't know, man. I lie for a living. My moral compass isn't geared to right and wrong the same way." Frowning, she adds. "Still drunk, anyway. Stop making me think. Hey, can I get a cheesburger?"

What is the worst thing you can imagine someone else doing?

At this point she's giving the bartender a funny look, but she accepts the burger gratefully. "I don't have to do much imaging, pal." Her face darkens. "But those sick fucks that hurt kids don't deserve to live." She takes a great, vicious bite from the sandwich.

What is the worst trauma you have suffered?

She stares blankly at the man, finishes chewing, swallows, says, "Fuck you," then takes another bite.


Her mind is flashing back to what her father had called midnight "trysts" and the feeling of cold metal on her skin. Abruptly, she rises from her chair. "Don't... don't take the food away. I'm just going for some fresh air."

What have you forgotten?

She's feeling many times better when she returns - almost clear-headed, even, though the alcohol is still in her bloodstream. She falls back upon the burger with gusto, but sets it down and sighs with exasperation when the bartender asks his fifth and final question.


"This conversation got really weird towards the end," she remarks. She rather regrets being as honest with him as she has, but there's no need to change the status quo now, she supposes. "Now you mention it, lately when I'm talking to people, it's like I... see something in their face or something that's just... not right. Not like an emotion, but... I don't know. It doesn't happen a lot though, and I try to put it from my mind when it does."


She polishes off her meal and tilts her head at the man in front of her. "Check please?"


Bastard's getting a lousy tip.

My job? I guess I'm kinda like a bounty hunter for people who haven't actually committed their crime yet. If I nudge them along the way, well, that's nobody's business but my own. Prosper Lucas

Of course, work hasn't been going so well. The department doesn't have the money to pay informants with anymore, at least not in the volumes she wants, and it'd make so much more sense to hop towns. Whether it's that peculiar feeling she gets sometimes when mingling, the damn good Mexican restaurant on the corner, or one of her policeman trysts in particular, something's held her back so far.

 

[Alexandra]

I dunno, is a detective who is also a member of the Vidocq society unthinkable?
Can I get a concept check from everyone interested?

Derp.


I didn't get notifications for this. I'll grab membership with both hands if it won't interfere with plot stuff, or be too unrealistic. Time to go investigate Philly's demographics ~

 

[Grey]

Tales From Precinct 13