Vincent Creed's page

Creed smirks, biting back a particularly cruel jab in favor of a slightly less cutting one, "Sorry Brandy, but you're innocence is safe on this one. Doubt the junkie they pulled this out of is your type. Nasty stuff though, just about choked the poor bastard to death. Whatever caused it is most likely laced into a new batch of smack. Need you to tell me anything you can about it. Just...like I said. Careful.", honestly the lanky lab tech wasn't so bad. Gripe or not, he at least had the sense to do as he was told most of the time. Made him vastly more useful than most of the other chucklef*cks at the station.

Adjusting his coat, Creed half turns to the door, "Anything else you need Brandy? Sh*t to do."

Creed raises an annoyed eyebrow at the weasely lab tech and points to the bagged container on the counter, "You tell me chuckles. I need to know what you can tell me about what's in that container? Hope you had a light lunch cause I can tell you whatever it is it's pretty gory. Top priority on this, got it? I'll be back later to see what you found. Just...", his expression softens somewhat, "Just listen kid. Be careful with this one okay? Whatever precautions you've got in this broom closet, f*cking use 'em. Lives hanging on this one yeah? Clear?"

Creed hops out of the car as soon as Charlie pulls it to a stop in the parking complex beneath the station, "Go find a new prom dress kid. I gotta see Brandy about something. Meet me back here in 20...and don't tell Weissberg f*ck all about what happened over there. Not till we know more."

With that Creed strides off. Up the stairs from the parking level to the the dingy basement, he makes a beeline for musty back office that makes up the Navidson Station Lab. Without knocking Creed pushes his way in, There you are Brandy. Put the porn away, need you to take a look at something."

Striding up to the central island, he fishes the bag containing the pilfered bio-hazard container out of his coat pocket and sets it down gently.

Holding his breath without realizing, Creed settles a hand on the outside of his coat where the bio-hazard container is tucked away. For once he hoped it was merely his mind starting to go.

Wits(3)+Investigation(2): 5d10 ⇒ (1, 1, 6, 1, 8) = 17 (1 Success)

After a few seconds he's mostly certain it's the wind. Letting the air out of his lungs, the older cop joins Charlie in the car. Adjusting his coat, Creed quickly flips down the sun visor. It was always so damn bright out here, what sort of idiot lives in the bloody desert...

Still squinting, he looks over at Charlie sitting awkwardly in his scrubs, "Back to the station kid. You're gonna need to change or Caesar and his crew will laugh the both of us right out of their little sh*thole."

The arrival of his partner and the nurse drags Creed's attention away from Rosen's thoroughly entertaining tongue lashing. Still smirking the older officer pulls out a cigarette of his own from the dented metal case in his breast pocket and makes his way over to the pair.

Tapping the filter against the case to settle the tobacco, Creed waits for this Jackie woman to finish fussing over the pair of them. He had to admit the feisty little brunette had already won his approval for the new *sshole she'd torn Dr.Rosen.

Once she's finished he lights the cigarette and takes a long drag while giving his younger partner a slow once-over, taking in his new outfit with an amused grin, "The flip-flops really speak to your authority as an officer of the law, kid.", he blows a long puff of smoke, "So, not about to kick the bucket are you?"

Creed sighs, fairly certain Rosen was tapped out as a source of information. The older cop turns at the sound of footsteps, "What now?"

Wits+Empathy: 4d10 ⇒ (7, 9, 1, 8) = 25 (2 Sucesses)

Creed snorts disgustedly, "Important? Sh*t Doc. Don't you take an oath about "all life being sacred" or some sh*t?"

"Look, forget about the rest of it. Just get a damn quarantine setup before you start losing people you do give a damn about."

Creed grinds his teeth, "Nothing good."

He almost feels a stab of pity for Rosen. But then again, the kid was downstairs washing off who knows what because this dipsh*t didn't even consider he might be out of his depth. Nobody ever looks past beneath the surface till it's too damn late.

"So, we're past the conventional then. Anything else you can tell me about the Inez or the other patients? The weird sh*t, you passed off as coincidence or unreliable information before? Put your cards on the table now and the kid and I can quit breaking your balls."

While waiting for Dr.Rosen, Creed finds a small plastic bag on a nearby cart and deposits his pilfered biohazard container inside before tying it tight. Slightly more satisfied with his safety, he slips it carefully back into a hidden coat pocket.

When the doctor finally makes his appearance, Creed is more than willing to start the conversation. Shooing away the nearby orderlies with a hard stare, he takes Rosen aside, "So, he still warm? Don't suppose you'd have time in your busy schedule to explain what the f*ck is going on here? I'm hardly an expert, but all this doesn't exactly strike me as hospital protocol?"

Pushing himself laboriously off the crash cart, Creed smirks mentally behind the storming anger plain on his face. Can't be getting that old, still quicker than these clowns.

He makes a long show of scowling at the medical staff, Tio, and the offending crash cart for good measure before settling on a resigned scowl, "Fine. Just make certain I don't have to come looking for you once you're done."

Smoothing his coat and the small container tucked within, Creed spins on his heel and makes his way back out into the hall.

Scanning the room, Creed considers his options for a moment, eyes narrowing. Shrugging to himself, the weathered officer launches himself towards the hospital bed and Dr.Rosen. Raising his voice to cut through the chaos created by the crash team's efforts, he bellows, "Listen here Doc. I'm not at all finished with you yet! I don't know what sort of bullsh*t you and your cronies are trying to pull here but..."

Creed's tirade is cut off just short of reaching the doctor as he seems to slip on a small pool of Tio's congealing blood, his momentum carrying Creed's large frame straight into the crash cart, nearly toppling it entirely as he fights to regain balance. In all the commotion, Creed attempts to deftly palm the small biohazard container and slip it into one of the many pockets of his worn duster.

Presence+Intimidation: 3d10 ⇒ (2, 10, 8) = 20
10 Again: 1d10 ⇒ 8 (3 Sucesses)
Manipulation+Athletics: 5d10 ⇒ (10, 9, 6, 4, 1) = 30
10 Again: 1d10 ⇒ 8 (3 Sucesses)
Dexterity+Larceny+Pickpocketing: 6d10 ⇒ (8, 8, 7, 6, 10, 7) = 46
10 Again: 1d10 ⇒ 1 (3 Sucesses)

As Charlie and the nurse disappear down a side corridor, Creed slowly scans the main hallway slowly. If it's still quiet after a few moments he sighs, pushing away from the wall and moving to peer into Tio's room with a scowl, Bloody mess this is...

Wits+Investigation: 5d10 ⇒ (10, 1, 8, 8, 9) = 36
10 Again: 1d10 ⇒ 10
10 Again: 1d10 ⇒ 6 (And that makes 5 successes :P)

Creed gives Rosen a last annoyed frown before stepping outside, "Come on kid."

Creed is otherwise silent until the three of them are gathered in the hall and the doors swing closed to shut out the sounds of the technicians struggling to save the unfortunate Mr.Inez. After a moment to let the quiet settle in, he gestures to the bloodstains on Charlie's uniform, "Best follow the lady there Chuck. Nothing else for it seeing as you were stupid enough to let the poor bastard bleed all over you. F*cking stupid that..."

Moving to lean against the side of the corridor, shifting to adjust his shoulder blades against the taupe wall, "Think I'm gonna wait here if it's all the same to you. Never touched the junkie. Just hurry back, no stopping off to play grab *ss in the supply closet, yeah."

Creed adjusts his coat carefully, attempting to reign in his temper as Rosen directs the crash team. By the time Grace begins to round on the doctor, Creed no longer feels the need to force the man's head up his own *ss so that he might physically match his personality and has instead settled for a simmering hatred of the lanky prick.

He snorts disgustedly in the doctor's direction, "Nothing for him to tell. You don't have a f*cking clue what you're dealing with here do you Doc? All that posturing just to hide the fact you're completely out of ideas, eh? I know your type, burn the car to the ground before you'll admit you don't know how to change the oil..."

Creed doesn't so much dodge as shrug around the doctor's ill advised swing, seeming more surprised Rosen would make the attempt than anything. Is this f*cker serious? Ah Sh*t, Marshmallow will be all over my *ss for leveling a Doctor. F*ck, what is it? Count to ten yeah. Okay, one...

Strength+Brawl-Defense: 5d10 ⇒ (2, 7, 2, 3, 3) = 17

*Wham* Creed's fist catches the doctor soundly in the side of the head. Hardly a knockout blow but sufficient payback for swinging at a Cop by Creed's estimation.

He glances over his shoulder, "Put on the damn gloves kid. Not certain we'll be welcome back if you start throwing up blood later."

Creed sucks his teeth, considering the situation while acutely aware it's beyond his expertise to really assist. As Tio's condition slips rapidly from majorly screwed to proper f*cked he decides he's had enough of Rosen's whingeing.

Strength+Brawl: 7d10 ⇒ (2, 1, 2, 6, 8, 8, 2) = 29 (Damn. Just 2 Successes :( )

"Oh f*ck it.", he mutters, striding around the hospital bed. Grabbing Dr.Rosen's outstretched arm, he plans a heavy forearm in the man's chest and attempts to push him back against the wall, "Had your chance dipsh*t.", between his tone and the dangerous glint in the older officer's eyes it's clear things would escalate quickly should the doctor press his luck.

Creed pauses for a moment to admire the nurse's capable if frantic efforts, but only a moment. Moving his hand from collar down between Rosen's shoulder blades, he gives the doctor a hard shove towards Grace and her thrashing patient, "S@~! or get off the pot, Doc! Girl needs help."

Creed has about had enough of this smug prick and his lab coat. Pushing himself off the wall he's been leaning on while Charlie makes his vain protest, he rounds on Dr.Rosen, "Listen, Doc. I don't give two s!&*s about your protocol, I'm not about to be dicked around on this. I've got no problem making your life extremely...", the alarm cuts off the rest of his threat, "F@$* off, what now?"

Grabbing the the Doc's collar in an iron grip, Creed shoves him into Tio's room behind grace, grimacing at Tio's thrashing form, "Just great. Get the f*~# in there Doc! Got enough bodies on this one already if you haven't forgotten."

Creed is about to tell the good doctor where he can shove his stethoscope but but he decides to give Charlie a shot at pressing him. Still plenty of time to tear this looming prick a new one once the kid blows his load.

Wits + Empathy: 4d10 ⇒ (9, 7, 1, 5) = 22 (1 Sucesse)

Resolve + Composure: 6d10 ⇒ (9, 3, 4, 8, 9, 2) = 35 (3 Successes)

Creed's expression suggests he believes the doctor is joking but is still deciding if it's funny or not, "Relax Doc, no one's here to put the screws to your patient. In fact.", he steps closer to the man, eyes narrowing, "...most of our questions are for you."

For his part, Creed blinks in mild confusion, "Jesus kid, you're gonna kill my buzz. What girl?", the strangled sound that escapes his younger partner's lips serves to jog the older cop's memory, he shrugs, "Oh, in there? Our friend there just needed a little extra motivation. Junkie like that's well past giving a damn 'bout himself...oh don't give me that f@~@ing look. Worked didn't it? F+%$ing Caesar, always trying to dip his pecker in s!*~ he can't handle."

He glances around, "Now where's that nurse? Hate to leave without giving that one a last once-over, eh kid?"

Creed smiles morosely, "We will friend, we will. You look out for yourself alright? Keep your head down, or better yet, down far from here for a while."

Clapping Tio lightly on the shoulder, he makes for the door, "Come'on kid lets let Tio here rest. We've got a scumbag to visit..."

Creed sighs sympathetically, "Yeah, yeah I know. You knew the risks from the get go right? Yeah, well...", the old cop's expression darkens, as if another ten years were added to his already worn face, "Not everyone understands what they're getting into. Fifteen year old girl having a hard time adjusting without her parents isn't likely to be nearly so informed about her bad decisions, eh?", he looks down again at Tio's fresh stump, "Whatever took that arm is nasty business. One way or another you made it to the hospital in time though, had it looked after properly...what would you have done if you hadn't? Maybe it was your leg instead? Maybe, just maybe, it got so bad you grabbed a kitchen knife and tried to deal with it yourself? Course...a femur's mighty hard to get through without a saw.", his eyes return to Tio's, haunted eyes unfocused, "Even now it's hard to believe all that blood was hers..."

After a moment of silence, Creed shakes his head, seeming to pull himself back to the present, "Look. You're already up s+&& creek on this one my friend. Partner and I aren't going to let this one go...we can't. That means at some point we're gonna put enough pressure on your source, they either assume you talked during our little visit, or that they just need to tie up as many loose ends as possible. Either way, they'll come for you sooner or later. You throw us a bone here and now, I'll help you lay low for a bit, or get out of town if that's what you want. But...just help us do right by her. Please."

Manipulation+Deception: 8d10 ⇒ (8, 9, 3, 9, 10, 10, 4, 2) = 55 (5 Sucesses)
10 Again: 2d10 ⇒ (7, 6) = 13

Creed smiles at the exchange between nurse and patient, glad to see the man had a sense of humor at least. He'd always found the funny ones easier to deal with. He scoffs as he steps in the small room, "Parish the though my friend. We just need to know how you came to be laid up here?", coming around the far side of the hospital bed, he gestures to the man's fresh stump, "I imagine you're suffering a mean case of buyer's remorse from your last fix, no?"

Shouldn't make promises like that kid. Hate to have to wash our hands of this one after you go and say something stupid like that.

Creed taps his foot impatiently, "Girl in the morgue. Wagon burner, just shy of legal? Or did our report shortchange us another one?"

"Carrier pigeon must have gotten lost...", Creed says absently, his attention fixed on the people they pass. His gaze sweeping over each face suspiciously as he shoulder's people aside, "Stalling from what? Where did this girl end up? The kid said your other patients hadn't kicked it yet?"

Creed spots the attractive nurse heading their way immediately, "Looks like you made an impression kid. Just keep your mind on the job son, gotta get some answers out of this junkie before he kicks it."

Stepping out of the car, Creed heads around front and sits casually on the hood as the young woman reaches them. The talking he leaves to Charlie, content to merely admire the view for the moment.

Creed's expression darkens steadily as the young vet talks, but whatever he's thinking, Creed keeps it to himself. He simply curses under his breath before jerking his head towards the street, "Grab your jacket and pull the damn car around Jeeves. We're moving."

"Hey, don't knock it till you try it. Might just open your eyes.", despite his smile, it's uncertain if the grizzled cop is joking or not.

Downing the last of his coffee, Creed deftly pockets a couple of the hard candies from Helen's desk and heads back to check on Charlie.

Creed chuckles, "Aye, I guess he does have his uses. Weissberg hasn't pestered me nearly as much about reports since the kid started. Saves me the effort of telling him to f@+* off, so I guess that's something.", taking another sip of coffee, he leans in closer to the aging receptionist, with a similarly conspiratorial tone, "Best be careful where you get your party favours for the next while Hel. There's a hot batch on the streets...wracked up a handful of bodies already and we're like to see more before it's through."

As usual Helen's overly cheerful demeanor puts a dent in Creed's foul mood. He takes the cup and smiles half-heartedly, "Thanks Hel. I swear one of these days I'm gonna put that kid out a damn window."

Taking a slow sip of the coffee, he leans against the desk and waits impatiently for Charlie to finish.

Creed gives his wet-behind-the-ears partner a withering scowl, F*@%ing DUI. Never seen Weissberg so damn smug in his miserable life.

"Fine.", he growles, "Make it quick. I'm gonna get some more coffee.", spinning on his heel, Creed stalks off, glaring daggers at everyone he passes, just daring them to open their mouths.

Creed laughs, "Give it another ten years you'll lose the faces too kid. I can't even remember what the ex wife looked like anymore. These days I just picture the old gargoyle above the baptist church..."

"Still, locals the lot of 'em so they'll have a local suppliers. Either they got the hots by accident or they'll have some idea who's muscling in on their territory.", leaning back in his chair, Creed runs through a list of potential starting points among his varied contacts.
Manipulation+Persuation: 6d10 ⇒ (4, 8, 7, 2, 9, 1) = 31 2 Sucesses
Only a couple guys moving smack locally. Low level trash like this probably had their hookup with Caesar.
Standing, Creed pulls his trademark worn duster off his chair and shrugs into it, "I'm going for a drive kid."

Creed makes the jerk-off motion at the Sergeant's back, chuckling in White's direction, "That's the stick so far up that boy's ass it's threatening to block his arteries. Very little to do with me."

Finally swinging his feet off the desk, Creed picks up the photos and flips through the faces for anyone he might recognise.

Int+Investigation Assist: 4d10 ⇒ (8, 7, 5, 7) = 27 1 Success

Hardly glancing at the file, Creed snorts, "Nah, just gullible consumers. Kids these days have no idea what they're buying. Somebody tells 'em it'll take them away from their dreary lives for a day and they fork over their cash in a heartbeat...", he smiles to himself slightly, "bless their hearts."

Feet resting on his desk, Creed squints at Weissberg from over the file he is idly flipping through. Letting out a long sigh, he lowers the folder, "Don't know how to break this to you Sarge, turns out the prick's been banging your wife for months now. I were you I'd check that kid for hairy feet when she finally pops it out. Just to be sure."