TwelveOf8

Strangest Love

@ineffable I will wait for the other two to reply first before replying myself.

Telecommunications

Sloan, Derek

Derek Sloan

^{Damn good coffee!}

^{It's important to enjoy the little things.}


Physical Description
Standing at 6"1' you wouldn't be able to spot him in a crowd. Therein lies his advantage. With his ability to blend into the scenery with his rather unremarkable appearance, he is able to stalk his target with relative ease. His fit and wiry frame allows for both speed and agility when it comes to his general movement. Such an asset allows him to chase down any perp that tries to flee the scene. With very low body fat he looks dangerous both in the fighting arena and at the beach. Unremarkable in appearance yet remarkable in ability. His black trilby hat says "hey doll face" but his grey casual suit says "I'm here for business".


Psyche
Derek hasn't exactly lived a charmed existence. Rising through the ranks of the Detroit PD was not an easy feat to accomplish. Many a two bit drug pusher and cop killer have came close to pushing Derek over the edge more times than he can count. But it was always his love of the simple things that pulled him through the darkest of times. Such a resilience allowed him to tackle the most grizzly cases of assault, murder, and rape. Cases that made the blood run cold. Cases that have broken more than a few hard men. There was that one case though, that pushed Derek too far. He was only fourteen, his younger sister was only nine, there was so much blood. That incident in particular caused Derek to leave the force for psychiatric treatment. And it was during that treatment that he realised that his crusade against crime was more personal than he always believed. In the end it was his ability to produce levity within himself and the people around him that allowed him to recover. And it was in that spirit that he tackled all the obstacles in his life. A joke here, a compliment there, with a sympathetic ear thrown in for good measure. All of it made life so much easier, or so he believed.


Motivations
Derek always believed in the honour of the badge. To protect and serve the good citizens of Detroit, however few there seemed to be. Though ever since that incident with those children, his motivations have changed somewhat. Memories of that shootout down in the south precinct still haunt him to this day. The memory of those young and innocent victims in particular. Their cold, lifeless eyes, staring unblinking. A look of terror forever frozen on their faces. It was something he never wanted too see again. The moment his crusade became personal.


Relations
Trisha: On again off again lover, she was always up for a party. A former stripper turned nursing student, she harbours some major daddy issues. Whenever he isn't partying with Trisha, Derek spends his time alone. He has no other relations in Detroit. That's just the way he likes it.


Personal History
Growing up in Detroit was never easy. Even if one grew up in the relatively nice western precinct. Though Dereks upbringing wasn't remarkable in the least, he always felt thankful for all that he had. Throughout his childhood Derek was always warned about the dangers of the south side. Horror stories of random shootings and rampant muggings always kept ordinary, decent folk away. Sadly, some of his classmates in high school refused to heed such sage advice. Super Sid was the name and partying was their game. Sadly, more often than not, the game took a dark turn. There were more than a few funerals that were held in the final years of his secondary schooling. Funerals for some of his former classmates. And although such events were tragic, they affected Derek little for he hardly knew them. Instead, they filled him with a desire to be a hero. The type of hero he always read about in his novels. Being a bit of a cocky teen at the time, he believed himself to be ten foot tall and bullet proof. That nothing in the world could hurt him, for he was such a fit and well trained boxer at the time. And so he resolved to join the Detroit Police Department as soon as he graduated high school. He would soon come to realise though that reality hits way harder than any punch ever could.

As it turned out, his desire to be a hero was a very common one amongst the new recruits. It was always a tired old cliche as far as the older veteran cops were concerned. When it came to being a cop in Detroit, you either died a hero or lived long enough to become a villain. Falling to extreme cynicism though, wasn't Dereks style. Armed with a positive attitude and the gumption for hard work, he was able to pass the police academy with flying colours. And though his training period and testing were over, his true test had just begun.

They called him the wiz kid. Derek took to beat cop work like an Irish poet to a pint of Guinness. He always had a confident swagger and an open and calming demeanour. And though he received more than his fair share of abuse, he tried his darndest not to let it get to him. The advice of his late father always rang true during times of duress. That no matter how difficult things got, strategy, patience, and faith would always carry you through, for change always took time. His father always said that Detroit could be a much better city in which to live, if only its inhabitants had that same attitude towards discipline and towards life itself. Despite all the bad that his late father saw in his lifetime, he never lost faith in the goodness of mankind. Such a noble attitude towards life was instilled within Derek from a young age, and it showed. People naturally gravitated towards him because of this. It wasn't long until he was promoted from beat cop to detective, than later on, to homicide detective.

People naturally felt at ease around Derek, especially those who were recently victimised by terrible crimes. There was no doubt that he had a good bedside manner, so to speak. The fact remained thought that the crimes he was commissioned to investigate were becoming increasingly more complex and diabolical. Naturally, he was approached with an offer of free augmentations for his dedication and service. Derek, unlike many people, held no fear when it came to augs. In fact, he relished the opportunity to extend his abilities beyond their natural limitations. Anything that helped him with his work was always worth it, or so he believed.

Dereks augs transformed him into some kind of super detective. Being augmented was the closest thing to having superpowers it seemed. Never before had he felt so powerful. It was almost felt like he was a cocky kid again. It wasn't long until his enhanced abilities had him taking on cases in increasingly more dangerous areas of the city, such as the southern precinct. It was there that the incident happened. The incident that finally broke him. Those kids shouldn't have been there. If only they were in school. Maybe then it wouldn't have happened. But it was the south precinct, it probably would've happened eventually.

A special new division was forming within the Detroit PD. A position which he was strongly advised to take by his superiors. Being taken out of psychiatric care early was more than a little jarring, but he was requested especially. That was all the motivation he needed.


Augmentations
Cybernetic eyes: These augs have completely replaced Dereks natural eyes. Truly, these babies are some of the most advanced as well as the most expensive augs on the market. They look indistinguishable from regular eyes, except for the yellow irises. Their vision is far superior to the organic eye. They allow Derek to have slight telescopic vision as well as the ability to scan faces, fingerprints, registration plates etc. A detective who wields these augs has very few equals.

Neural data link: A cranial aug that allows Derek to access the police database with a mere thought. Any information he needs, he can summon into his field of vision. An invaluable aug for any detective worth his salt.

RES or Reflex Enhancement System: A series of tiny augs that form a network along the spine from the base of the brainstem down to the tailbone. These augs enhance the nervous system in order to greatly boost alertness, reflexes, and hand-eye co-ordination. This augmentation network allows Derek to be extremely accurate with his standard issue 9mm. They also aid in his close combat capabilities.

The Battle of Sea Salt Bay

It was midnight when she finally got home. Such a regular occurrence disrupted Divos sleep, like always. His mother was out again with yet another guy. It seemed like there was a new one every night. How many people were there in the town of Sea Salt Bay anyway? She must've gone through most of the town already. It wouldn't surprise him the least if she was on her second round through. The truth was though that Divo knew not what his mother did every night. What he did know was that she would always come home blind drunk. Sometimes he would discover her passed out on the front lawn every other morning. Occasionally Divos mother sported a black eye. Whenever he expressed any concerned though she would screech at him to back off. She would even throw a bottle if she was holding one. Such was life at home for Divo. In such an environment he had no choice but to grow up before his time. To always be responsible for anything and everything. To always be the straight thinking one. If he wasn't going to take on that role then who would? There was nobody else. His father was long gone. In fact he had no idea who his father was. There's a good chance that he will never know. Divo has long since made his peace with that outcome though, for he was his own man.

After that grand confrontation between Charles and Chet at school that day, the future of the Salt Bay Turbos seemed bleak. They may not even be the Salt Bay Turbos anymore. Charles could do with them whatever he liked. He had them all by their "collective balls" after all. Even before that, when Chet lost his cool and decked Switch. He had never seen the boss act out like that before. He must've still been shaken up by his fight with Rolo. Divo, for the life of him, just couldn't fathom why everything went so wrong. No catalyst came to mind, no matter how much he thought about it. The anxiety of it all kept him from falling back to sleep.

He could still hear his mother shambling along the hallway outside his bedroom door. She walked sideways into the hallway walls every couple of steps or so. She was either on her way to the bathroom or to her bedroom. Divo prayed that it was the former. Vomit and piss stains were hard to clean out of woolen quilts. But if he didn't do it, then nobody did.

Divo sat up in his bed resolutely. He just didn't care anymore. A lifetime of doing right by the people around him has gifted him with naught to show for it. Just a drunken whore of a mother and a broken gang which just so happened to be controlled by an asshole because it was led by an idiot. Divo felt so mad angry about what Chet did. They were a gang yeah but that little conspiracy he pulled on his own was way over the line. At the end of the day though, Divo realised, it was because Chet tried to beat Charles at his own game. It was all because Chet wanted to be like Charles, simple as that. A greedy and manipulative little weasel who had not a single real friend in the world. That's what Chet wanted to be. The saddest thing of all though, was that Chet used to be so much more. Divo shook his head in disappointment.

He heard what sounded like a door open and close down the hallway. It was fairly closeby so it must've been the bathroom. A moment later, he heard those familiar sounds of heaving and retching. Divo silently thanked whatever maker there was that his wretch of a mother drunkenly shambled her way into the bathroom this time. An easier mess to clean. Of course he did try to help her on many occasions but again, she would swat him away and screech. Her screeching was unintelligible most of the time but sometimes he could make out ramblings about his father. Of how he looked exactly like him and how much it pissed her off because he was an asshole, apparently. She was a difficult woman to deal with, no doubt. But who else was there? Only another year until he was free.

At the moment though, he no longer cared about anything. Possible curfew be damned. He needed to be somewhere that reminded him of the good times. There was only one place he could think of though. And that was underneath the boardwalk. There was a chance that eh would encounter a couple of the other guys down there as well. He doubted it though. That suited him just fine. He needed to be alone. His mood was chaotic and his thoughts led him to dark places. A breath of fresh air and a trip down memory lane would do him a world of good, Divo surmised.

And so he opened his bedroom window and climbed out into the backyard. His house was only a few blocks away from the bay in one of the poorer and more modest suburbs. Despite it all though, he was glad that he lived in an area that was relatively close to the bay. Sometimes he could even hear the sound of the sea from his bedroom window. He then set off on foot towards the bay. Hopefully, nobody else was going to be there.

Ban the Person above you

Banned because you left Greendale Community College to sail around the world with Levar Burton and broke all of our hearts.

L'usine De Chocolat, The Chocolate Factory

@Majoras End If you are willing to declare it dead then I will move on.

L'usine De Chocolat, The Chocolate Factory

How many people are still in this thing?
@Majoras End

Strangest Love

"Uno Manhatten, coming right up senor." replied Alejandro reflexively.

He then promptly got out a bottle of whisky, a bottle of vermouth, and a bottle of bitters. Through muscle memory alone, Alejandro concocted a picture perfect Manhatten. It was the kind of drink one would see on the cover of a bartending instructional book or on a billboard ad. A deft mastery of cocktails was one of Alejandros many charming traits. A trait that betrayed his secret super abilities if one were observant enough. Every single drink he mixed was a uniform work of art. So good was he that many a prospective bartender have begged to be his apprentice. But alas, Alejandro could never truly teach anyone else to mix like him, for he was the only one he ever knew who possessed a power such as his.

As Alejandro handed over his latest work of art he finally got a look at this lucky patron. Such looks and charisma were not a usual sight in the Cats Cradle. Well, not amongst its usual customers anyway. Alejandro surmised that a guy such as him could easily get whatever girl he wanted. Alejandro couldn't help but wonder if this guy was better looking than him. No way, thought Alejandro dismissively. The outrageous thought was banished from his mind as quickly as it appeared.

All of a sudden, a rather stunning blonde woman entered the bar. She was rummaging through all the bottles of mixers and tonics like a kid at a candy store. Alejandros temper flared up fiercely at such a rude and presumptuous intrusion. He was about to give this drunk slattern a piece of his mind. That was before he got a good look at her face. Alejandro blanched visibly when he recognized her. It was the boss. The stone cold fox herself, Irene. He had heard stories of her violent and terrible moods but he had not seen them in person himself. Judging by her erratic movements though, such an event seemed likely. A woman as beautiful and as fierce as her was a welcome challenge to Alejandros charm. Unfortunately, this woman happened to be his boss. And so he decided to lay off charm for now and wait for the possible storm to blow over.

Alejandro could tell that the waitress was extremely pissed off about the boss taking her bottle of vodka like that. No doubt he would get an earful of said incident after work. Expansive and seemingly never ending tirades about the sleaziness of the customers and about how much of a psychotic bitch the boss is. Such an earful wasn't Alejandros idea of a good time. And so he decided that it probably wasn't a good idea to party with that particular girl that night.

Irene then approached the handsome customer and embraced him like a lover. Alejandro of all people knew what a lovers embrace looked like. She then whispered what were no doubt sweet nothings into his ear. It was then that Alejandros jealousy roared back with a vengeance, stronger and more fiercely than before. The Latin fiery passion was as alive in Alejandro more so than anyone else he knew. He couldn't help but feel slighted. That his honour and his manhood were being threatened. Such feelings were beneath Alejandro but he couldn't help but feel them at times.

A voice interrupted his simmering jealousy. A rather sweet and gentle voice. It asked for a sparkling water. Such a request was not common in the Cats Cradle. Alejandro couldn't help but jolt his head in the direction from which the question emanated. Leaning on the counter with her arms crossed was one of the cutest, sweetest, and most beautiful women Alejandro had ever laid eyes on. For once, he was lost for words.

Current Mood in One Gif

The Battle of Sea Salt Bay

"Hey Rolo! Wait!" yelled Switch as he ran to catch up.

"Huh? What is it?" responded Rolo.

He turned around to see a very serious expression on Switchs face. Rolo thought it odd for such an expression was very much out of character for Switch. Knowing him, it was probably something pervy and embarrassing. In light of recent developments within the gang though, Rolo wasn't so sure that was the case this time. And so he began to feel concerned as Switch struggled to find the words that he was looking for. Was there really a good way to explain such things? If there was, Switch could hardly fathom it.

"Spit it out man! What's wrong!? Is Chet still pissed at me? Cuz if that's the case then I don't give a flyin fu...." declared Rolo.

"You got it wrong man, so wrong. It's worse than that. I mean dude, we are so fucked!" said Switch in an uncharacteristically whiny way.

"Calm down dude alright? Just take a deep breath, and tell me what I need to know." soothed Rolo.

Switch made a very audible gulp before commencing his summary of all that had transpired. "Alright man. Don't freak out alright!? I can't stress that enough! Here's what happened at lunch while you were gone." Switch began.

Rolo stood there, listening to Switches report of all that had transpired between Charles and the gang. About Chets secret little conspiracy and how it landed them all in hot water. How Charles apparently secretly manipulated Chet subtly in order to quote "Hold the Salt Bay Turbos by their collective balls". And all the while, Rolos mouth hung open ever so slightly in a slack manner. The other students around them were too busy walking home from school to pay any attention to the exciting developments in the world of the Turbos and the New Royals. Rolos anger was beyond boiling point.

"And that's about the long and short of it." said Switch. He then giggled at his own referential little joke.

"I'm going to kill him! And that weasly little Chet to! I knew he was no better than that scumbag little worm! They're both dead! I'm gonna shove my fist so far up their...." ranted Rolo before being cut off by Switch yet again.

"Shhh quiet! We can't move against him! He's got dirt on us! If we do anythin to piss him off then that's it for us. Just calm down alright!?" said Switch frantically.

Rolo sighed deeply before he spoke. He was relatively more calm now. "Alright. For the good of the gang, I'll keep it cool. But one thing's for sure though, I will have my revenge. And you better believe that includes both of em!" he declared.

"Yeah man. I totally feel ya on that one. Damn it Chet. You just had to play his pussy ass little games didn't you. I looked up to you man." said Switch mournfully.

"So what happens now?" Rolo enquired.

"I guess we just gotta wait. That's all we can do these days." said Switch.

Telecommunications

@DeadDropStill up for it