Just an idea, guys. �If anybody wants to join a thread on this RP, please remember that I'd appreciate detailed posts, not one liner MUCK/IRC style, as it puts down others who put time and effort into their posts. �Try and think seriously about how you want to involve your character, read the other posts from other members, then join in the RP in a way that keeps things balanced and in tune with the narrative.
Oh yeah, did I say have fun?
EDITED 25/08: Just made a few grammatical and format changes here and there... feel free to join in the fun, guys.
Slowly, a whirlpool formed inside a thick, tan mass. �White arms stretched out like the a spiral galaxy, cycling in a hypnotic fashion, eternally coiling towards a brown centre. �It was a peaceful sight, twisting and turning in harmony with the forces of nature. �That was, until a large steel object burrowed its way through the rotating pattern, exploding it into fragments of white and brown.
Stuart sat relaxed, cooled within the air-conditioned office of the special crimes unit, located within the Australian Federal Police office of New South Wales. �He leaned forwards over his large office desk, inspecting the contents of his large brown coffee mug. �A compact Aptiva IBM PC sat to his right, with various files, clipboards, and photographs spread across to his left. �
"Bit too much cream this time, Steve-o," he complained, staring into the caffienated fluid that spun in circles from the onslaught of his teaspoon. �He looked up towards the work colleague standing to his right and raised an eyebrow, a wry smile inching across his lips.
Steven Madison frowned at the complaint, shrugging his shoulders at the lack of appreciation given to his coffee making time. � "Sorry Stu," he apologized. �"Kitchen was packed. �Had to speed up a bit as everyone else was getting restless." �He glanced down to various folders scattered across Stuart's desk. "You seen the photos yet?"
"Yeh," Stuart replied blankly. �He rubbed his eyes as he leant back against the large office seat. �"Ain't seen anything like it, mate." �He sighed, then removed six large black and white file photographs from a slip folder, sliding them back out onto the desk for further analysis.
The photographs were rather graphic in nature, depicting a brutal killing of a young Caucasian male. �The first two showed close-ups of deep lacerations along the shoulder blade and upper left bicep. �The third showed large puncture marks along the back, with the fourth showing similar marks on the right ankle. �The final two photos showed the facial features, which included a deep laceration carving from the lower jaw line to the upper left eyelid. �
Stuart removed another folder, detailing forensic reports and crime scene investigative evidence. �Along the top right was the insignia of the Australian Federal Police. �Amongst the header was written: TO: D.C STUART, B. �"How's the autopsy coming along?" he enquired, taking a large sip of his coffee with sugar and cream before fingering through the Federal Police report.
"Lab 2's just started on it," Steven replied. �"Mick and Baz are up this time."
Stuart nodded, glancing back at the photos. �He slid the third photograph closer towards his position, taking a close look at the large punctures along the shoulder line and back of the victim.
"Don thinks this one's probably a dog attack," Steve commented, observing Stuart's inspection of the crime scene photograph.
Stuart snapped up a glance, eyebrows narrowing with slight annoyance. �"A dog?!" he snapped. � "Have you seen the size of the gaps between the teeth, Steve? �I'm no bloody forensic expert, but there's no way in hell any canine could take a chunk out'a someone of this magnitude!"
"I agree. �I told 'Don that it was a little too big to be from a canine of any sort."
Stuart shook his head slowly, glancing to a large suburban map of Newcastle on his right. �The map was dotted with various victim photographs, with localities, times and pattern probabilities. � "This is the fourth killing," he said, frustration rising in his tone. �"Since last month, we've not had a single lead, no evidence, no traces of blood or DNA samples, and no pattern emerging, just random occurrences. �We haven't even established a motive yet." �
He threw the photograph back onto the desk, sending case files scattering in different directions. �"I feel as though I'm just wasting time here. �Sitting around making assumptions and speculations, whilst the killer tallies up his next victim!" �He glanced back to Steven, clearly irritated. �"I've got IA calling me up every four days now. �Turns out they think this case can't be solved with just 'internal resources' alone."
"What, they're gonna call in the local joint?"
"No, ya knob, they're asking me to request help from overseas!"�The inspector's reply was harsh as closed the top desk drawer hard, the loud snap of wood against wood turning a few heads in the large office floor. �"Last thing I need is some Yank Fed snooping around here . �They're even thinking of requesting help from the quads."
"What...NACIO?" Steve asked, referring to the North Atlantic Canid Intelligence Organization. "Wasn't Kimbo offered a job with those guys?"
"Yeah, but she turned it down," Stuart replied, sighing. �Trying to relieve stress, he placed his head in his hands, large elbows leaning solidly on the desk.
"Where is she now, anyway?" Steve asked. �"I haven't seen her in ages..."
Stuart wavered a hand in a general northerly direction. �"She's up at Cairns, taking a well-earned break. �Something that I should be doing."
Steve quickly changed the subject, trying to divert Stuart's attention from the prospect of an early retirement. �"I read an article about those quads. There was that one huge case that they solved up in the States... the Philadelphia Panther, or something? �Claimed 9 victims before NACIO stepped in. �There was that one investigator, too.. a dog, I think... Sonia? �Sandra?"
"Silver," Stuart corrected, his disinterest established from the abrupt reply. �The PABX system on the senior inspector's desk rang loudly, and he raised the handset with haste, hoping for good news more than bad news.
"Yeah, what?!" �Stuart barked in annoyance. �His facial expression changed into a suprised one as he realised he was speaking to the Chief Inspector of his unit. �"Oh, yes sir?" he enquired politely.
Steve turned around, heading for upper laboratory levels. ��"I'll check up on the autopsy," he called, not wanting to interrupt the call.
Stuart lowered the handset momentarily, glancing up towards the detective. �"Oi, Steve!" he beckoned. "Get in touch with Gary at internal affairs. �Tell him I'll go ahead with this, this, quads idea he's got in mind." �He glanced towards the large dotted map, wondering how long it would be before the next set of photographs were spread across his desk. �"God knows, we're going to need all the help we can get."
Oh yeah, did I say have fun?
EDITED 25/08: Just made a few grammatical and format changes here and there... feel free to join in the fun, guys.
Slowly, a whirlpool formed inside a thick, tan mass. �White arms stretched out like the a spiral galaxy, cycling in a hypnotic fashion, eternally coiling towards a brown centre. �It was a peaceful sight, twisting and turning in harmony with the forces of nature. �That was, until a large steel object burrowed its way through the rotating pattern, exploding it into fragments of white and brown.
Stuart sat relaxed, cooled within the air-conditioned office of the special crimes unit, located within the Australian Federal Police office of New South Wales. �He leaned forwards over his large office desk, inspecting the contents of his large brown coffee mug. �A compact Aptiva IBM PC sat to his right, with various files, clipboards, and photographs spread across to his left. �
"Bit too much cream this time, Steve-o," he complained, staring into the caffienated fluid that spun in circles from the onslaught of his teaspoon. �He looked up towards the work colleague standing to his right and raised an eyebrow, a wry smile inching across his lips.
Steven Madison frowned at the complaint, shrugging his shoulders at the lack of appreciation given to his coffee making time. � "Sorry Stu," he apologized. �"Kitchen was packed. �Had to speed up a bit as everyone else was getting restless." �He glanced down to various folders scattered across Stuart's desk. "You seen the photos yet?"
"Yeh," Stuart replied blankly. �He rubbed his eyes as he leant back against the large office seat. �"Ain't seen anything like it, mate." �He sighed, then removed six large black and white file photographs from a slip folder, sliding them back out onto the desk for further analysis.
The photographs were rather graphic in nature, depicting a brutal killing of a young Caucasian male. �The first two showed close-ups of deep lacerations along the shoulder blade and upper left bicep. �The third showed large puncture marks along the back, with the fourth showing similar marks on the right ankle. �The final two photos showed the facial features, which included a deep laceration carving from the lower jaw line to the upper left eyelid. �
Stuart removed another folder, detailing forensic reports and crime scene investigative evidence. �Along the top right was the insignia of the Australian Federal Police. �Amongst the header was written: TO: D.C STUART, B. �"How's the autopsy coming along?" he enquired, taking a large sip of his coffee with sugar and cream before fingering through the Federal Police report.
"Lab 2's just started on it," Steven replied. �"Mick and Baz are up this time."
Stuart nodded, glancing back at the photos. �He slid the third photograph closer towards his position, taking a close look at the large punctures along the shoulder line and back of the victim.
"Don thinks this one's probably a dog attack," Steve commented, observing Stuart's inspection of the crime scene photograph.
Stuart snapped up a glance, eyebrows narrowing with slight annoyance. �"A dog?!" he snapped. � "Have you seen the size of the gaps between the teeth, Steve? �I'm no bloody forensic expert, but there's no way in hell any canine could take a chunk out'a someone of this magnitude!"
"I agree. �I told 'Don that it was a little too big to be from a canine of any sort."
Stuart shook his head slowly, glancing to a large suburban map of Newcastle on his right. �The map was dotted with various victim photographs, with localities, times and pattern probabilities. � "This is the fourth killing," he said, frustration rising in his tone. �"Since last month, we've not had a single lead, no evidence, no traces of blood or DNA samples, and no pattern emerging, just random occurrences. �We haven't even established a motive yet." �
He threw the photograph back onto the desk, sending case files scattering in different directions. �"I feel as though I'm just wasting time here. �Sitting around making assumptions and speculations, whilst the killer tallies up his next victim!" �He glanced back to Steven, clearly irritated. �"I've got IA calling me up every four days now. �Turns out they think this case can't be solved with just 'internal resources' alone."
"What, they're gonna call in the local joint?"
"No, ya knob, they're asking me to request help from overseas!"�The inspector's reply was harsh as closed the top desk drawer hard, the loud snap of wood against wood turning a few heads in the large office floor. �"Last thing I need is some Yank Fed snooping around here . �They're even thinking of requesting help from the quads."
"What...NACIO?" Steve asked, referring to the North Atlantic Canid Intelligence Organization. "Wasn't Kimbo offered a job with those guys?"
"Yeah, but she turned it down," Stuart replied, sighing. �Trying to relieve stress, he placed his head in his hands, large elbows leaning solidly on the desk.
"Where is she now, anyway?" Steve asked. �"I haven't seen her in ages..."
Stuart wavered a hand in a general northerly direction. �"She's up at Cairns, taking a well-earned break. �Something that I should be doing."
Steve quickly changed the subject, trying to divert Stuart's attention from the prospect of an early retirement. �"I read an article about those quads. There was that one huge case that they solved up in the States... the Philadelphia Panther, or something? �Claimed 9 victims before NACIO stepped in. �There was that one investigator, too.. a dog, I think... Sonia? �Sandra?"
"Silver," Stuart corrected, his disinterest established from the abrupt reply. �The PABX system on the senior inspector's desk rang loudly, and he raised the handset with haste, hoping for good news more than bad news.
"Yeah, what?!" �Stuart barked in annoyance. �His facial expression changed into a suprised one as he realised he was speaking to the Chief Inspector of his unit. �"Oh, yes sir?" he enquired politely.
Steve turned around, heading for upper laboratory levels. ��"I'll check up on the autopsy," he called, not wanting to interrupt the call.
Stuart lowered the handset momentarily, glancing up towards the detective. �"Oi, Steve!" he beckoned. "Get in touch with Gary at internal affairs. �Tell him I'll go ahead with this, this, quads idea he's got in mind." �He glanced towards the large dotted map, wondering how long it would be before the next set of photographs were spread across his desk. �"God knows, we're going to need all the help we can get."