Police Department: Thursday Afternoon
Thus far Cooper had spent the morning exploring the town and having a cup of coffee at the perk before deciding to head to the sheriff's department. He was still chatting with the tape recorder as he entered the building...
"Diane, I've decided that the next step is to check in with the local law enforcement as per bureau regulations when an agent has found himself lost in the field. While I still have no answers on why I have ended up on the East coast and fourteen years in the future I'm hoping that the sheriff's office might be able to assist me in getting in touch with the Bureau and straightening the matter out."
It was then that Dale realized he was in an office where apparently the deputies where all wearing white armor and staring at Dale like he had grown a second head.
Dale paused for a moment before adding: "Diane, I have not ruled out that I'm suffering a psychotic episode. Please make sure you schedule a full catscan and psychiatric evaluation for me if you ever get this."
~~
"Sergeant," Roy said as he came out of his office, a file in his hand. He stopped when he realised why the troopers were so quiet. "Can I help you, sir?"
~~
Dale put away his tape recorder and pulled out his FBI Badge and ID and presented them to Roy. "Sherriff? I'm Special Agent Dale Cooper of the Federal Bureau of Investigations. I was wondering if perhaps you'd be able to assist me in getting in contact with my superiors? I seem to have pulled a Rip Van Winkle across time and need to reconnect with the head office to see what might be going on."
~~
Putting the file down on the front desk, Roy motioned towards the ID. "Do you mind if I take a closer look? I've just moved here myself so I haven't learned the finer workings of this place yet."
~~
Dale handed over the ID and glanced around the office. "Just recently? I must say Sheriff that this is just a fascinating island you have here. And that Perk has a damn find cup of joe. If you get a chance you need to stop by there for a cup."
~~
"Not that recently," Roy assured him with a smile. He took a moment to study the ID before he moved behind the desk and motioned for Cooper to follow him. "That station is equipped to stay in contact with the authorities in several dimensions. Just don't ask me how as this technology escapes me as well, it just seems to work. You should be able to use the telephone like you normally would."
~~
"Did you say dimensions?" Dale asked before taking the phone and pulling out his notebook. "This place is amazing."
The first call went to the Bureau and bit by bit Dale's chipper personalily began to chip away. No Diane. No Albert. No Gordon Cole.
Further calls revealed that there was no such town as Twin Peaks, let alone The Great Northern, a Sheriff's department or even the Double R Diner.
"Well then," Dale said hanging up the phone after information laughed at him for asking for the number of Harry S. Truman. "It appears to be that I am a man without means here in town. Tell me sheriff... people showing up out of no where. Is that a common occurrence for this town?"
~~
Roy had moved to the side, giving Dale space to make his call. It still hadn't stopped him from catching most of the conversation, but Dale didn't seem too worried or panicked about the situation. "I wouldn't be surprised if it were," he said. "This island seems to have an affinity with the weird. Would you like for me to set you up with a room at the Arms Hotel while we figure things out?"
~~
"That would be perfection," Dale replied. "All I need is a firm mattress a telephone and a TV on the off chance I feel the need to rot my brain. But preferably a clean place and reasonably priced. That's all I really need."
There was a short pause before he added, "And a room away from any Icelandic businessmen would also be preferable."
~~
Having no clue what Iceland was, Roy simply nodded as somehow it felt like the easiest thing to do. "I'll see what I can do. Don't worry about the expenses. Have you tried going down the causeway? It's how visitors usually get to the island."
~~
"I haven't tried it," Dale said standing up and grabbing his overcoat, "But if you say it's worth a shot then I'll give it a try, Sheriff. As for the expenses, I appreciate the offer but if I'm somehow marooned on this island I don't want to be a lamprey on the shark that is the police department. However, if there is anything I can do for you, my skills as a federally trained investigator are yours to use as long as I am on this island."
~~
Understanding the need to make yourself useful, Roy didn't push the issue. He did however take a moment to consider the offer as he was still dealing with a very much understaffed police force. "What sort of investigations have you undertaken in the past?"
~~
"Homocide, kidnapping and drug trafficking would be the most recent," Dale replied as he put on his coat. "And I also have a background in forensics, handwriting analysis and a keen sense of human nature. But honestly Sheriff, if you want to see me truly at work? I'll need a bucket of rocks and a bottle."
~~
Any questions about the cases he'd worked on disappeared with that last part. "A bucket of rocks?" Roy asked, trying not to look confused and miserably failing.
~~
"There are times that the forensic process and traditional investigative measure fall short in the face of the unknown," Dale replied straightening his tie. "Three years ago I had a dream about the plight of the people of Tibet and their spiritual leader known as the Dalai Llama. From this dream I awoke realizing that I had subconsciously gained a knowledge of a certain deductive technique involving mind-body coordination operating hand-in-hand with the deepest levels of intuition. I have used this methodology several times over the past three years to great effect."
~~
There was a long pause and Roy might possibly have been wondering about Dale's sanity. He somehow managed to not let it show on his face too much. "That sounds interesting," he said politely, having no clue what exactly Dale had said.
~~
Dale gave Roy a little grin. "Come now Sheriff. Surely you've seen things on this island that are impossible to explain and yet they still do happen."
~~
"I've seen some interesting things," Roy agreed. "But I'm a scientist. Most things do have an explanation."
~~
"That they do," Dale agreed cheerfully. "However there are things that science cannot explain, but if you need further proof I'd be happy to provide a demonstration for you sometime. Until then I'm off to find this causeway that you mentioned. Right after I check out this place called God of Biscuits. I hear they have a cherry pie that'll send you right to the afterlife of your choice."
~~
"If that's true, then you might already have proof right there," Roy remarked, deciding it was best to just be amused at the whole thing. "Either way, I hope things work out."
~~
"I'll give you a call and let you know," Dale said as he headed for the door and out of reflex pulled out his tape recorder. "Diane, I just met up with the Sheriff who has recommended the Arms hotel as a place to stay while I'm here. Good rooms, reasonably priced. Remind me to tell you how much that costs..."
Dale's voice trailed off as he exited the Sheriff's department oblivious to the stares that the troopers were giving him.
[ooc: Preplayed via e-mail with light_a_spark. No interaction though your typical ooc comments are always appreciated.]
"Diane, I've decided that the next step is to check in with the local law enforcement as per bureau regulations when an agent has found himself lost in the field. While I still have no answers on why I have ended up on the East coast and fourteen years in the future I'm hoping that the sheriff's office might be able to assist me in getting in touch with the Bureau and straightening the matter out."
It was then that Dale realized he was in an office where apparently the deputies where all wearing white armor and staring at Dale like he had grown a second head.
Dale paused for a moment before adding: "Diane, I have not ruled out that I'm suffering a psychotic episode. Please make sure you schedule a full catscan and psychiatric evaluation for me if you ever get this."
~~
"Sergeant," Roy said as he came out of his office, a file in his hand. He stopped when he realised why the troopers were so quiet. "Can I help you, sir?"
~~
Dale put away his tape recorder and pulled out his FBI Badge and ID and presented them to Roy. "Sherriff? I'm Special Agent Dale Cooper of the Federal Bureau of Investigations. I was wondering if perhaps you'd be able to assist me in getting in contact with my superiors? I seem to have pulled a Rip Van Winkle across time and need to reconnect with the head office to see what might be going on."
~~
Putting the file down on the front desk, Roy motioned towards the ID. "Do you mind if I take a closer look? I've just moved here myself so I haven't learned the finer workings of this place yet."
~~
Dale handed over the ID and glanced around the office. "Just recently? I must say Sheriff that this is just a fascinating island you have here. And that Perk has a damn find cup of joe. If you get a chance you need to stop by there for a cup."
~~
"Not that recently," Roy assured him with a smile. He took a moment to study the ID before he moved behind the desk and motioned for Cooper to follow him. "That station is equipped to stay in contact with the authorities in several dimensions. Just don't ask me how as this technology escapes me as well, it just seems to work. You should be able to use the telephone like you normally would."
~~
"Did you say dimensions?" Dale asked before taking the phone and pulling out his notebook. "This place is amazing."
The first call went to the Bureau and bit by bit Dale's chipper personalily began to chip away. No Diane. No Albert. No Gordon Cole.
Further calls revealed that there was no such town as Twin Peaks, let alone The Great Northern, a Sheriff's department or even the Double R Diner.
"Well then," Dale said hanging up the phone after information laughed at him for asking for the number of Harry S. Truman. "It appears to be that I am a man without means here in town. Tell me sheriff... people showing up out of no where. Is that a common occurrence for this town?"
~~
Roy had moved to the side, giving Dale space to make his call. It still hadn't stopped him from catching most of the conversation, but Dale didn't seem too worried or panicked about the situation. "I wouldn't be surprised if it were," he said. "This island seems to have an affinity with the weird. Would you like for me to set you up with a room at the Arms Hotel while we figure things out?"
~~
"That would be perfection," Dale replied. "All I need is a firm mattress a telephone and a TV on the off chance I feel the need to rot my brain. But preferably a clean place and reasonably priced. That's all I really need."
There was a short pause before he added, "And a room away from any Icelandic businessmen would also be preferable."
~~
Having no clue what Iceland was, Roy simply nodded as somehow it felt like the easiest thing to do. "I'll see what I can do. Don't worry about the expenses. Have you tried going down the causeway? It's how visitors usually get to the island."
~~
"I haven't tried it," Dale said standing up and grabbing his overcoat, "But if you say it's worth a shot then I'll give it a try, Sheriff. As for the expenses, I appreciate the offer but if I'm somehow marooned on this island I don't want to be a lamprey on the shark that is the police department. However, if there is anything I can do for you, my skills as a federally trained investigator are yours to use as long as I am on this island."
~~
Understanding the need to make yourself useful, Roy didn't push the issue. He did however take a moment to consider the offer as he was still dealing with a very much understaffed police force. "What sort of investigations have you undertaken in the past?"
~~
"Homocide, kidnapping and drug trafficking would be the most recent," Dale replied as he put on his coat. "And I also have a background in forensics, handwriting analysis and a keen sense of human nature. But honestly Sheriff, if you want to see me truly at work? I'll need a bucket of rocks and a bottle."
~~
Any questions about the cases he'd worked on disappeared with that last part. "A bucket of rocks?" Roy asked, trying not to look confused and miserably failing.
~~
"There are times that the forensic process and traditional investigative measure fall short in the face of the unknown," Dale replied straightening his tie. "Three years ago I had a dream about the plight of the people of Tibet and their spiritual leader known as the Dalai Llama. From this dream I awoke realizing that I had subconsciously gained a knowledge of a certain deductive technique involving mind-body coordination operating hand-in-hand with the deepest levels of intuition. I have used this methodology several times over the past three years to great effect."
~~
There was a long pause and Roy might possibly have been wondering about Dale's sanity. He somehow managed to not let it show on his face too much. "That sounds interesting," he said politely, having no clue what exactly Dale had said.
~~
Dale gave Roy a little grin. "Come now Sheriff. Surely you've seen things on this island that are impossible to explain and yet they still do happen."
~~
"I've seen some interesting things," Roy agreed. "But I'm a scientist. Most things do have an explanation."
~~
"That they do," Dale agreed cheerfully. "However there are things that science cannot explain, but if you need further proof I'd be happy to provide a demonstration for you sometime. Until then I'm off to find this causeway that you mentioned. Right after I check out this place called God of Biscuits. I hear they have a cherry pie that'll send you right to the afterlife of your choice."
~~
"If that's true, then you might already have proof right there," Roy remarked, deciding it was best to just be amused at the whole thing. "Either way, I hope things work out."
~~
"I'll give you a call and let you know," Dale said as he headed for the door and out of reflex pulled out his tape recorder. "Diane, I just met up with the Sheriff who has recommended the Arms hotel as a place to stay while I'm here. Good rooms, reasonably priced. Remind me to tell you how much that costs..."
Dale's voice trailed off as he exited the Sheriff's department oblivious to the stares that the troopers were giving him.
[ooc: Preplayed via e-mail with light_a_spark. No interaction though your typical ooc comments are always appreciated.]