themanclion: (*sam - investigating)
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.

Comments are screened by default, and if you'd rather I reply via email or something so the reply doesn't unscreen your comment, let me know.

I can also be reached via AIM as foppishtrollop pretty much 24/7, though I've usually got an away message up. Don't let that stop you, though.
themanclion: (unhappy realization)
{{Backdated: takes place shortly after this post.}}

There's no reason for Gene not to dive right back into work, now that he's back from wherever he was... Or maybe wherever he wasn't. He's not exactly sure just what happened to him back there, only that it pisses him off.

With all he's got to catch up on. there is absolutely no reason he should be heading for Sam Tyler's room, except for the fact that they haven't spoken since before Christmas, and he's just lost two months of his life that he's not getting back.

Tyler's got Cartwright, he tells himself. No reason for you to even be here, he tells himself. You're acting like a great stinking fairy, he tells himself, and if you're going to play the bum-bandit, the least you could do is not be a sodding girl about it.

Of course, it's not like that leads to him getting back to work. Oh, no. That just leads to him pacing outside Sam's room, muttering to himself and occasionally glowering at the door.

After a good ten minutes of muttering and pacing, he finally gathers the courage -- and he's not going to make a single Cowardly Lion joke, not even in his own head -- to knock on Sam's door.
themanclion: (journal - frowny)
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.
themanclion: (journal - frowny)
Right, I leave the tower to find a place with a decent curry and end up nowhere at all for two months, only to come back in time for a little girl to get killed.

Cartwright, I want to know what's gone on so far that I might've missed, and if the entire rest of Chicago's just been sitting with its thumb up its collective arse with the Gene Genie gone.

Tyler, I'm sor just let me know you haven't been killed again or hit by another car or jumped off something.
themanclion: (chippy!gene - this r srs)
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.
themanclion: (journal - frowny)
I've just received word that some of the people responsible for this may have positions in Chicago's own police force. There are still good coppers out there. I'm sure of it, but we've got no way of knowing who's who.

What you need to do is keep calm, stay under the radar, and do not give local law enforcement any reason to notice you. Lack of police support's going to make things harder on us, but we're not powerless here. Not even close. Since we can't count on police backup, the priority right now is to make sure you're someplace safe, with someone who can look after you if you can't do it on your own.

What's more, some of you may notice how I've locked this entry. I'm doing that for a few reasons, most notably that, if you look at the places that were hit, especially Elm Street Liquors, which was only advertised as a Wanderer-friendly spot the once, over the journals, you may notice a distinct pattern.

There's a possibility the journals have been compromised. Either they've got one or more of the resident supernaturals on their side, or, and this is the worse possibility, they've got a captive Wanderer and are going through their journal. A captive Wanderer would be good for the bastards for a few reasons, notably the one where they'd have access to everything locked to Wanderers, and are trusting that to keep them a step ahead of us.

So if this lock works right, the moment someone other than the journal's owner picks it up, this entry vanishes. I strongly encourage all of you to lock anything you've got to say in the same fashion. But don't rely on that alone, either.

Some of you may have noticed your journals tend to follow you if you're away from them for too long. That's both a good thing and a bad one, because if anyone's taken, all the bastards have to do is wait for the journal to show up with them. It's also a bit easier to steal a journal just long enough to find out what's going on than it is to abduct a person, so keep that in mind.

You can't stop them from getting your journal if they've got you. We're taking steps, all of us, to make sure that the 'getting you' part doesn't happen, but in the meantime, keep your journal close and lock everything. That journal is your best friend in the whole of the world, so treat it like it is, and don't leave it where anyone else can get their hands on it.

We've had some volunteers to look after people that need it, and a more formidable and talented group I've never seen, so if you need someone to take you anywhere, let me know, either here (under a lock), or over the phone. We'll send someone around, make sure you're safe.


Feb. 16th, 2009 10:11 pm
themanclion: (journal - frowny)
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
themanclion: (journal - frowny)
All right, boys and girls. Assuming you're not otherwise occupied, I'd like to see you all in the next fifteen minutes, room 220.

Any personal weapons you have, bring them unless you're Ianto. Cartwright, we'll find you something before we head out.
themanclion: (once a copper...)
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.
themanclion: (journal - frowny)
We need to talk, you and I. There's some news I'm not going to trust to a journal where for all I know you'll decide to see if you can fly all over again.

My room. Whenever Torchwood can spare you.
themanclion: (kitty!gene - o hai!)
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.
themanclion: (journal - frowny)
For those of you that know Chris Skelton, I'm looking for him, or any news of his whereabouts.

If you don't know me, I'm Gene Hunt, his DCI from Manchester. I tried to get in touch with him a while ago and got no response. I've been told this might be because he's a duckling. The fluffy, yellow kind, about the size of one of your damned American baseballs. Anyone who knows the differences in what animals actually look like and can give a more detailed description than Sam bloody Tyler could, feel free, as I haven't seen Chris as a duck, myself.

So if you see Chris, or a duckling matching that admittedly shitty description, let him know the Guv's looking for him, and if you'd be so kind as to let me know he hasn't been eaten by anything, I'd also appreciate it.
themanclion: (Default)
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. )
themanclion: (journal - frowny)
[Locked to Chris Skelton]

Chris, just what are you doing with yourself lately? Haven't heard from you at all.

Not that there's anything like CID around here, but I've got to keep an eye on my lads, don't I?


[Locked to Becky Trapper]

Haven't heard from you, angel. Are you all right?

Over here, we've had Very Bad Men wandering into Torchwood headquarters and acting as if they own the place and everyone in it and kidnapping Sam. Got him back though. I bit him (I was a chipmunk at the time), he punched me (I wasn't then) and all's business as usual.

Let me know you're still alive, would you?

themanclion: (journal - frowny)
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.
themanclion: (kitty!gene - rar!)
{{continued from here.}}

Gene made it to his room before he went lionish. Ripped a pillow to shreds. And the sheets. That'll be wonderful to explain.

And he's still angry and humiliated and... For reasons even he doesn't entirely understand, or at least won't admit to, he's going looking for Sam.

"Pathetic" might just be an accurate assessment, come to think of it, but see if he gives a toss. Sam wants him around, and that's enough for him right there. He just needs... company, of some sort.

Doesn't bother turning human, though he avoids people as best he can on the way to Sam's room, and ends up thumping on Sam's door with a paw, tail all atwitch.
themanclion: (journal - frowny)
Saw that post you made, before it vanished.

Think you might tell me what happened?
themanclion: (journal - frowny)
We need to talk, you and I.
themanclion: (rip your scrotum off)
[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?
themanclion: (chippy!gene - hot pursuit)
Right. Gene and Eric([ profile] wineandvenom)'s mun here. So. Life kicked my ass, and I went away for much longer than I intended. *grumbles about school and drama and what-all*

But! The boys, they return! And there was much rejoicing, or maybe one or two people going, "Oh yeah, I remember that guy." One of those.

Still getting caught up on all that's been going on, but just letting everyone know that those two really aren't dead, I promise.


themanclion: (Default)
Gene Hunt

April 2009

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