Lt. Morgan reporting for ... some shit (tag to police types, OTA)

[efffthisshhhht]

So, Deb woke up with a motherfucker of a hangover. Her head felt like a big balloon filled with cement that was mixed with tequila. Fuck. Gabriel must've gotten her back to her room because she sure as shit didn't remember getting there

Comments

[yippiekiyaymf]

A beefy bald guy aopeared in the doorway.

"Can I help you?"

[efffthisshhhht]

Wow, okay. They came big here (maybe a little on the short side, but still). Deb held up her badge. "Lieutenant Debra Morgan, Miami Homicide, now stuck in weird fucking village."

[yippiekiyaymf]

John chuckled, and opened the half door that led further into the station and motioned her in.

"John McClane, NYPD, now Chief of Police. Welcome to Quaintsburg, Lieutenant."

[efffthisshhhht]

Going through the door, Deb looked around. "You're the Chief, huh?" She offered her hand. "Good to meet you. So... what's up around here? Gotta say, it looks really fucking boring."

[yippiekiyaymf]

He shakes, and leads her to a desk that looks like all the others, except for the 'Chief of Police' name plate on the desk, and motions her to a seat. He sits himself, and looks at her.

"It usually is for a few weeks. Then things get weird. And sometimes things can get really fucking bad, really fucking fast." His look was acute and measuring as he tilted his head.

"How many of the 'not strictly human' inhabitants of the village are you aware of?"

[efffthisshhhht]

"... sorry, I ... what?" Deb leans forward from where she'd just sat down. 'Not strictly human?!"

[yippiekiyaymf]

John chuckled.

"You must be brand new." He shook his head."So what I'm going to tell you will make you think I'm nuts."

[efffthisshhhht]

"Yeah, most likely," Deb chuckled. "But, by all means, tell me about the not-strictly-human population."

[yippiekiyaymf]

"The latest two people I had to arrest, were arrested for assault and disturbing the peace because they went into the local vampire bar and picked a fight."

[efffthisshhhht]

"A vampire bar? What, like assholes who think they're vampires and gnaw on people's necks?" Which was weird, sure. But Deb saw a lot in Miami. And in her personal life, but they weren't going into that.

[yippiekiyaymf]

"No, like assholes who really are vampires, and suck on people's necks, but only volunteers, and never fatally, or I'll take them down."

[efffthisshhhht]

Okay, so Deb's mouth fell open and she gawped at the chief. "... and you aren't shitting me. Jesus." She sat back. "Fucking vampires?!"

[yippiekiyaymf]

"Yep. They haven't caused any trouble while I've been here. We have a couple of ghosts though, that are being a nuisance. I have to figure out what to do about them. And the ammo room carries silver bullets for werewolves. I'd be careful though, because one of our fellow officers is one. That reminds me," he leaned forward and jotted on a post-it note.

"We should all get a look at what Dyson looks like changed, so we don't accidentally shoot him in the heat of action."

[efffthisshhhht]

"Are you fucking kidding me." At that, Deb slumped lower. "Werewolves, vampires and ghosts. Oh-fucking-my. What the hell is this place?!"

[yippiekiyaymf]

"The bed and breakfast at the edge of the Twilight Zone." John nodded at her reaction.

"One of the first things I had to deal with as a cop here was a zombie outbreak. So yeah, it's boring now, but never let your guard down."

[efffthisshhhht]

"I have no fucking idea what to say to you right now. I have to get a job and being a cop is what I am so I'm here and ... you are seriously fucking creeping me out." Deb is nothing if not honest.