Take A Look At The Lawman

If you need to reach me for any reason -- whether that's to plot RP stuff, ask a question, or just comment on something you've seen here, this is the place to do it.

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I'd always heard the Rift had a way of making people vanish, but this is the first time I've experienced anything firsthand -- either way, I come back and there's little girls getting killed.

So it happens I need to know a few things, like if there's been any progress on how hostile the local coppers are, anyone safe to talk to... Any contacts you can give me, I could use. We've got someone over here with a cunning plan, but I'm not about to sit around and wait, it seems like sitting around and waiting's what's got this city a hop skip and a jump from completely buggered right about now.

I don't know this city as well as I should, and, if you're agreeable, I'd like some help in setting that right.

Stolen from most of Gene's flist, at this point:

Comment here, with any of your characters and any of my characters (mouseover for journal names), and I will write you a fic. Specifically, I will write you a fic wherein they have OFFSPRING - accidental, surrogate'd, adopted, completely clueless, whatever.

FOAR GRATE LULZ. Or just, y'know, crack.

All right, everyone. For those who've seen the news, you already know what this is about. For those that haven't, what's going on is that some cowardly bastards are playing terrorist, trying to scare us wanderers off, firebombing places where we tend to congregate.

Not a one of us had any choice about this. None of us would've come if we'd have half a chance. But that doesn't make much of a difference to scum like that.

For those of you who don't know me: I'm Gene Hunt, former Detective Chief Inspector, from Manchester, 1973. These days I'm a member of Torchwood, but that doesn't matter here. I'm not doing this as someone on Torchwood's payroll -- I'm doing this as a copper and a Wanderer, who's not about to let some coward who can't even face us dictate how we live.

This is our city too, whether we like it or not. And there've been some insane bastards that came through and ruined it for the lot of us, but I know most of us are better than that.

So here's where we show it.

We need to find out who's behind this, and we need to bring them to justice. That doesn't mean gunning them down like the menaces we think they are. That means, if at all possible, finding a way to get the proper authorities to deal with these bastards, and taking care of our own in the meantime.

There's a chance the 'proper authorities' won't care about us, as much as, as a copper, it pains me to say it, but we try it. And we keep trying before we take the law into our own hands. The law exists so the average bloke on the street can feel safe and happy and not have to worry about taking his life in his hands every time he steps outside his house. If we don't respect the law here, the ordinary citizens out there are going to fear us, and if they fear us, we've already lost. All there is to it, and anyone that's got a problem can take it up with me personally, and we'll see who's still standing at the end of that discussion.

Yeah, we've got to accept the fact that, legally, most of us don't exist, and that we might not rate as high as those ordinary citizens, but if we don't TRY, we're no better than they think we are.

What's more, we need people to watch out for Wanderers on their own. It's important that, considering we've got bomb-happy bastards out there, we keep everyone safe. That means that if you're in an established safehouse, you stay there. Keep someone with you. If you can get your hands on a mobile phone, or a panic button (anyone remember those from when Calisto was around?), you keep it on you. If you can't get one of those, find a friend who CAN, and stay with them.

If you know anything about who did this, come forward. If there's anyone who can act as a liaison with the regular police that knows about supernatural things, I'd be more than happy to talk to them. And what I need here, more than anything, are coppers, or those near enough to. People who know how to carry out an investigation, people who're interested in looking out for those that need it, people who're willing to guard places Wanderers tend to congregate.

I'm just a Wanderer, just an ex-copper, but I'm not about to just sit back and take this. And if you're not either, TALK TO ME.

I'm available over the journals or by phone -- the number's below.

And here's the important bit, and if you don't listen to any other bloody thing I say, listen to this: DO NOT LET THE BASTARDS SCARE YOU. That's the whole point of terrorists: you may notice the word 'terror' in there. They're out to scare us, to make us feel like hunted animals. And if you let them do it, you let them win.

Be careful, be safe, look out for each other, and WE WILL BEAT THEM.

Good luck.

Gene Hunt
Former DCI, Manchester
Torchwood, Chicago
(312) 555-5345

For those of you who haven't been paying attention to the news, there's something out there killing coppers. Reports say it's a wild animal.

Me, I think it's interesting that there's a wild animal that's man-sized and walking upright, for all they say it moved like a cat or dog or something. Also interesting that there's been a rash of unexplained comas in the area.

Sounds like something's come from the Rift.

Cooper, Tyler, if you lot don't already have somebody on this, I want this one. Someone ought to be doing something about this bastard, at any rate. And I want Cartwright working this with me. I don't know if either of you's bothered to hire her officially, and after what happened with yours truly, I'm not assuming a bloody thing, but she's a good copper, and we're used to working with each other.

And if anyone else wants in on this, assuming we get everything cleared with our respective bosses, let me know.

A few minutes after a certain post, Mat gets a visitor.

A very furry visitor, which carefully thumps at Mat's door with a paw, then just sits in front of the door, tail curled neatly around him, waiting, looking as friendly as it's possible for a lion to look.

Write about an awkward moment where someone almost touched (gasp!) your daemon.

Taking this as a jumping-off point. 'Awkward' isn't the word I'd use to describe it. And I'm killing the 'almost'. Because Gene's life really was that fucked up. I hope that's okay. (Meh, if not, I'll probably write for another one as well anyway.)

( His dad was drunk more often than not. )

Sam's angel can't much sit still, and neither can I. We're going to get him.

Anyone that wants to come along, feel free. No one's charging in guns blazing, but at the very least, I'll be having a look, seeing what they've done, and working out a plan from there.

Since he's working with you lot, I thought you might like to know.

Saw that post you made, before it vanished.

Think you might tell me what happened?

[One heavily crossed-out section: what little remains legible seems to simply be a collection of curse words.]

So, tell me, Tyler, what does a civilian do around here when he's completely useless? Shall I take up crochet and calmly wait to get eaten by a wall?