0
followers
follow

C. McLoughlan Jr.

A homicide detective for the Wing City Police Department.

0 · 207 views · located in Wing City Town Square

a character in “The Multiverse”, originally authored by Maree, as played by NotAFlyingGirl

Groups

The Wing City Police Department, dedicated to protect and serve. One of the most formidable law enforcement agencies on the planet, considering the near limitless potential crime for a city on the crossroads of worlds.
A Justice Investigations company owned and operated by Alyssa Justice.

So begins...

C. McLoughlan Jr.'s Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: C. McLoughlan Jr.

0.00 INK

#, as written by Ward
Castiel parked his black sedan on the curb. He fed the meter and walked to the nearest street vendor. The stench of overcooked hotdogs filled his nose. Mayonnaise, ketchup, mustard, and relish were running all together in their tubs on the cart. There were flies buzzing around and no on in their right mind would have eaten from that vendor if it was the last bit of food left in Wing City.

Well, except for Castiel. He paid for two hotdogs with Chow Chow and far too much mustard for someone to actually like. The man loved it. In fact he loved it so much he did not even notice when a big glob of mustard stained his new white shirt and red tie. He just continued to voraciously eat it while heading over to a bench.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: C. McLoughlan Jr.

0.00 INK

#, as written by Ward
"Better to just keep traveling right out of Wing City if you want a good cup of coffee. We don't have that around here," Castiel said to the woman in the red fedora. He gave her a nod and a small wave.

"The coffee at the police station is the best I've had so far and it tastes like dirt. Not surprised since it has the consistency of tar. I keep telling them we need a new secretary but..." Castiel shrugged and took another enormous bit of his hotdog, devouring half of it in one go.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: C. McLoughlan Jr.

0.00 INK

#, as written by Ward
Castiel took the offered hand and held it gently as he shook it. He took a brief second to study her further since they were both in close proximity. Castiel approved. She was very pretty but in a homely way. The woman seemed down-to-earth and professional. That was all he could really pull from a first impression.

The detective released her hand after the brief second and tossed away the remains of his hotdogs in a nearby bin.

"McLoughlan," Castiel said, introducing himself. He failed to give a first name. It was partly due to the fact that he worked in the force and was mostly called by his last name instead of his first.

"No luck on dinner yet? I may know a place nearby that's not terrible. I know we just met but eating with someone is far better than alone. What do you say?" Castiel smiled at Rhea in a kind manner.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: C. McLoughlan Jr.

0.00 INK

#, as written by Ward
"Ah, Carson is my first name," Castiel said. It wasn't his real first name but it was the name he used from day to day.

"So where are you from, ma'am?" he asked in his light southern drawl. Carson placed a hand on Rhea's upper back to guide her down the street. Their destination was a small diner that permanently smelled like grease but it was the best eats in town according to him.

The way that Carson was walking with Rhea allowed a slight view of holstered pistols beneath his coat. A small, metallic, and shiny badge was hooked onto his black belt. His talk about "the station" obviously pointed to the fact that he was a cop, or in some way affiliated with them.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: C. McLoughlan Jr.

0.00 INK

#, as written by Ward
McLoughlan. She called him by his professional name. Alright, he could deal with that. The comment on his pistols threw a suckerpunch at him however. A tinge of pink colored his cheeks as if the man was embarrassed.

Size wasn't everything. It was how you used it!

"Yes, well, ahem, size isn't everything. A glock is a useful pistol. They haven't failed me yet, unfortunately," Carson said. The truth was that "Carson" had other arsenal to use that didn't require support of his pistols. He glanced up at the clouds and then looked ahead once more.

"I'm a detective in the homicide division here in Wing City. You probably don't like the WCPD too much, though, do you? We don't exactly have the best name in the country, let alone the entire planet," Carson stated.

"I promise that I'm not up to anything immoral," he said. OK, maybe not immoral but a man was definitely a man and she was a woman. It was perfectly human, even though he wasn't human. She was still fair game!

Characters Present

Character Portrait: C. McLoughlan Jr.

0.00 INK

#, as written by Ward
"Very nice piece," Carson said with an approving nod. "While carring firearms is a necessity of our job, I try to talk the hostiles out of the situation. Most come willingly but there have been a few that weren't so pleased to get caught," the man said.

"And I didn't think you were suspicious. It is a well known fact that the WCPD isn't very well liked in a city of crime. Heck, I can hardly get a woman to have dinner with me because of my profession," Carson admitted. It wasn't nice to lie and he didn't like it too much. But, there was always a reason behind Carson's lies and it was to protect.

"Ah, here we are," Carson said as he opened the door for Rhea. It was a hole-in-the-wall diner that could easily be missed if you didn't know where you were going. Inside were small, cramped tables, and two booths again the wall. There was only one waitress, who was expecting any time soon. Actually she looked ready to burst at her next breath.

"Welcome to Joe's. How many," the waitress asked the pair.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: C. McLoughlan Jr.

0.00 INK

#, as written by Ward
"For most people," Carson said, guarding his words. Sure she was a pretty woman but he wasn't about to dump his past on her shoulders. Poor thing would have been crushed by the sheer weight. Women were such fragile things in Carson's eyes, but then again he was old fashioned.

Carson took a seat next to Rhea. The waitress waddled over behind the bar and placed two laminated menus in front of them. There were burgers, sandwiches, eggs anyway you wanted them, and a meatloaf special.

"Two coffees, and I'll have a burger that still moos with no pickles and lots of mustard, Angel," Carson said. The waitress's name was Angel according to her nametag. It made Carson laugh on the inside.

"And whatever the lady wants too," he said. Angel nodded and waited to jot down Rhea's order.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: C. McLoughlan Jr.

0.00 INK

#, as written by Ward
Carson was going to leave that last statement alone. Very alone, damnit. She didn't mean anything by it but hell it his brain wasn't twisting it into something else. Who knew that the divine could have such thoughts?

"I eat a lot," Carson said with a wink. A completely innocent wink. "I have to ingest a lot of calories in order to just get through my day. I'm lucky that it doesn't stick to me in a bad way like other people I've seen. I'd hate to be a peace officer giving out tickets and eating donuts for the rest of my career," the man said lightheartedly.

The door chimed with a small bell signalling that some more customers had come in. Carson gave them a short look over. Two men, nondescript wearing raincoats. Nothing spectacular. He turned his attention back to Rhea.

"Burger rare, juicy, and two eggs in basket, Joe," the waitress yelled out as she pinned the order to a squeaky stainless steel wheel. Angel waddled to the other men after placing two steaming cups of black coffee in front of Carson and Rhea.

"So, why Wing City, Miss Theramyr?" Carson asked as he poured sugar into his coffee. Far too much sugar.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: C. McLoughlan Jr.

0.00 INK

#, as written by Ward
"Never enough sugar," Carson replied. He loved sweet things, bitter things, sour things. Coffee had to be sweet, not bitter.

He finally set down the sugar dispenser and stirred his coffee.

"I actually was not on the Gambit's Bar case. It's infamous. I would have volunteered for the job but I wasn't in town at the time. I was... on vacation," Carson said. He expected a few questions to follow that statement and he prepared himself with a slew of lies.

"You better have my money by next week or so help me I will get the court involved again. This is your child!" Angel screamed across the diner. Carson pretended to ignore it. It was not his business to pry between a lover's quarrel.

"Tell me about your case and I may be able to help. I don't usually do missing persons but homicide has been quiet for the past few days," Carson said.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: C. McLoughlan Jr.

0.00 INK

#, as written by Ward
"North," was all that Carson said. It was a partial truth. It wasn't exactly a physical location that Carson had gone to so describing where he went would have been difficult. Most people said the place was up but that would have needed explanation too. So, Carson stuck with an easy answer.

"And yeah, if I don't get my burger soon I may go on a rampage. I'm starved. Don't mind those two. They always fight over child support. I come in here a few times a week. It's nothing to be worried about, hon," Carson said before he drank the sweetened coffee.

Carson let out a satisfied sigh at the taste and set down the mug. Things were rising between Angel and the two men. The argument was growing heated, more so than was normal.

"I guess it's time to step into the fight. Sit here, I'll deal with it," Carson said before he stood up from his stool.

He walked to the trio with his hands held up in a calming gesture. The four began to dicuss what was going on. Things were beginning to break up. The two men were leaving after another minute. Carson patted Angel on the shoulder in a comforting gesture.

And then a gunshot went off and Carson crumbled to the ground. Angel screamed at the top of her lungs before another shot rang off.

The woman stopped screaming and the barrel of the assailants gun pointed to the remaining witness; Rhea.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: C. McLoughlan Jr.

0.00 INK

#, as written by Ward
There was a yelp as one man went down. His agonized moans could be heard as he writhed around on the ground. The other, the "boyfriend", had ducked behind a chair to give himself some cover.

He shot wildly in the direction of Rhea.

"Come get some, bitch! I ain't scared to take you out too! Stop hiding like some damn pissy pants! I'll take you out too!" the young man yelled across the diner, trying to psych out his target. The look in his eyes was scared but determined to kill another person if it meant not going to jail.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: C. McLoughlan Jr.

0.00 INK

#, as written by Ward
The assailant licked his lips nervously. He was nothing more than a young kid who had gotten in over his head. He was scared that life was going too fast and he panicked. The only mistake that he had made was choosing the easy path over the hard one.

"Put the gun down," Castiel said. He was standing with the support of a booth seat. There was blood dripping down his shirt. An exit wound in his solar plexus was visible on the man's lower abdomen. There was no possible way that McLoughlan was able to stand.

"Put the gun down," he said in a calm voice. "You don't want to hurt anyone else. You've done enough, David."

David's eyes flicked over to the other cop. His hand that held the gun shook.

"I'm bleeding! I'm gonna die, man. I'm gonna die. It fuckin' hurts, man," choked David's friend.

"You've done enough," Castiel said. "Put the gun down."

"Fuck you!" David shouted before he whirled the barrel of his cheap 9mm toward Castiel again.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: C. McLoughlan Jr.

0.00 INK

#, as written by Ward
"No!" Castiel shouted out as Rhea's gun fired off. He was too late. Even a creature like him wasn't faster than a speeding bullet. David's time on Terra was over and now he was spending an eternity in Hell. A soul had been lost and Castiel wept on the inside.

He wanted to crumple against the floor and curl up due to the pain in his side and back. He wasn't allowed to wither away into agonized misery just yet however. There were still lives to be saved. David's partner was dead. He took his last breath as soon as Castiel crawled over to Angel.

She was taking short gasps of breath while her hands tried to stop the bleeding from her stomach.

"Call an amublance," Castiel ordered Rhea. "Everything is going to be fine, Angel. We're going to get you and your baby help. It'll be alright, I promise."

Angel's lips were turning gray as she continue to lose more blood.

"My... baby... p-please..." Tears slid from the corners of her eyes.

"I'll save it. I promise," Castiel said to her.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: C. McLoughlan Jr.

0.00 INK

#, as written by Prose
The air was cool and there was a gentle breeze blowing. Fall was coming to Wing City. The trees were beginning to turn colors and storms were rolling across the sky more often. Soon enough there was going to be snow on the ground and Christmas lights hung everywhere.

McLoughlan sat on a park bench with a cup of coffee. He still hadn't found his assignment. There was a nagging feeling that his assignment was in Wing City but there were so many people it was near impossible to pinpoint them. He was losing time. It would have been so much easier if this was an official case where he could call an informant. But as it was, that was not an option for McLoughlan.

The man scratched the five o'clock shadow on his jaw. His deep set eyes peered at a bush and his brows knit together in a tight knot. There were heavy worry lines etched on his forehead.

He needed to find his person. But where to start?

Characters Present

Character Portrait: C. McLoughlan Jr. Character Portrait: Amelia Spiers

0.00 INK

#, as written by Guest
There was a knack to walking like you didn't care where you ended up. A stumble here or there, fingers wrapped in half-discintegrated woolen gloves reaching into one trash can, fishing after one particularly likely looking morsel. Discarded, though. Even Lia wasn't that hungry.

But then again, it wasn't hard to spot one of Them, either. Didn't matter what colour, what band on their arm, badge on their... badge... All the same underneath. Watchful eyes. Good quality shoes. Always the shoes. Mother had told her.

Cracked lips purse beneath the dirty fabric of the jacket, amusement. Momma had always been right. Well, until the point old Bobby had seen to it she wasn't right. Silly cow.

She makes her way, shuffling and stumbling, to the can beside the bench with the.. She casts a look out of the corner of her eye, before dismissing the notion. Like she cared.

"Looks like a man whose lookin'." She could have been talking to the trash for all that she moves, dark, dirty nails scratching through old cigarette ends and discarded coffee cups even as the words leave her mouth.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: C. McLoughlan Jr. Character Portrait: Amelia Spiers

0.00 INK

#, as written by Guest
There was a knack to walking like you didn't care where you ended up. A stumble here or there, fingers wrapped in half-discintegrated woolen gloves reaching into one trash can, fishing after one particularly likely looking morsel. Discarded, though. Even Lia wasn't that hungry.

But then again, it wasn't hard to spot one of Them, either. Didn't matter what colour, what band on their arm, badge on their... badge... All the same underneath. Watchful eyes. Good quality shoes. Always the shoes. Mother had told her.

Cracked lips purse beneath the dirty fabric of the jacket, amusement. Momma had always been right. Well, until the point old Bobby had seen to it she wasn't right. Silly cow.

She makes her way, shuffling and stumbling, to the can beside the bench with the.. She casts a look out of the corner of her eye, before dismissing the notion. Like she cared.

"Looks like a man whose lookin'." She could have been talking to the trash for all that she moves, dark, dirty nails scratching through old cigarette ends and discarded coffee cups even as the words leave her mouth.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: C. McLoughlan Jr. Character Portrait: Amelia Spiers

0.00 INK

#, as written by Prose
"I'm not the only one looking," stated McLoughlan. He had spotted the girl out of the corner of his eye. He wasn't going to pry into her business but she spoke and he replied. McLoughlan turned his head to study her closer. A prickle ran up the back of his neck. It made his left eyebrow arch quizzically.

"Do you like coffee?" asked McLoughlan. He held the insulated paper cup out to her. It was still warm but not hot.

"I haven't drank from it. I promise," he said to her. The coffee was really there just to keep him company.

The girl looked like a drug addict. There were too many to count in Wing City. All those intergalatic foreign visitors brought their space drugs to the city and ruined hundreds of thousands of lives. He could be wrong. She could have just been one of the homeless.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: C. McLoughlan Jr. Character Portrait: Amelia Spiers

0.00 INK

#, as written by Guest
"Can mosey right along, if you're not." She replies, shoulders shrugging somewhere beneath countless layers of ill-fitting, hole-baring cloth. At the offer of coffee her head turns almost of its own accord, and she takes it from his hand with barely a word.

It takes a few long moments, the cup cradles to her face, eyes half-closed as she inhales the scent of warm brewed caffine. Eventually it would tilt, sending the dark liquid towards eager lips. Only when she'd had enough to warm her tongue, to feel the slither of heat down her throat and into the pit of her belly, does she appear to notice the stranger.

As though she would forget. But they would think that, wouldn't they?

"Doesn't buy you much, coffee." She tells him, dubiously. "Maybe buys you some though. Cha' lookin' for?" She glances around the paths, the strangers who hustle by. No time for one of her kind. No time for her. Suits her. She saw them and their sordid secrets. Everything had a price... everything.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: C. McLoughlan Jr. Character Portrait: Amelia Spiers

0.00 INK

#, as written by Prose
McLoughlan was having a hard time deciphering what the girl was trying to say. Maybe his first judgment of her being an addict was more correct than he wanted to believe. He turned on the bench to face her for forwardly.

"That depends on what you have on you," McLoughlan said. "What can you offer right here and now?" He crossed his arms across his chest. There was a mustard stain on his red tie and his white shirt was wrinkled from McLoughlan rolling the sleeves up to his elbows.

The detective assumed that she'd rummage through her pockets and pull out morphine, heroine, or meth out from beneath some layers of her rags. If she did he was going to arrest her. It was simple as that. He was a cop. It was his job.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: C. McLoughlan Jr. Character Portrait: Amelia Spiers

0.00 INK

#, as written by Guest
She looks at him, her expression covered more with cynisim and disbelief than it was the dirt that caked her flesh.

"Bastard Cop Shop. Give something for nothing. Nothing free!" She spits to one side, careful to avoid his shoes but only slightly. She was, after all, irritated, not insane.

"What does you know, eh? Spill it like that? Not how it works, sweetcake." She looks at him them, up and down as though he has just crawled from the most dense, foul sewer beneath the City. "He tells her what he needs to know. She tells him what she knows. Or finds it." She sniffed, raising her free hand to wipe harshly at her nose as she does so. "Findin's extra."

She turns her attention back to the coffee, at least, she appears to. She's met all sorts. Shiney badges, shiney shoes... shiney even as they swung towards her face. Not fast enough. Or too fast. Saw too much. Everyone has a price, she knows that. Not stupid. Never stupid.

"So. Sat out here. On his own. Good the look. So what is it?"

Characters Present

Character Portrait: C. McLoughlan Jr. Character Portrait: Amelia Spiers

0.00 INK

#, as written by Prose
"Ah, an information trader," McLoughlan said. He rubbed his jaw and his dark eyes narrowed at the girl. The prickle at the back of his neck wasn't going away. McLoughlan looked up toward the sky with an inquiry in his stare. There came no answer. The Man Upstairs was as quiet as he always had been. The detective sighed through his nostrils.

"What is your name?" asked McLoughlan. He doubted that she would answer or even answer with her true name. Information traders were not keen on giving out their identities. For all he knew her entire appearance was just a front to keep herself safe. McLoughlan tipped up the brim of his fedora.

The damn thing was cliche but it looked good on McLoughlan.

"I'm detective McLoughlan," he offered.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: C. McLoughlan Jr. Character Portrait: Amelia Spiers

0.00 INK

#, as written by Guest
At his question, Lia looks down at the dark coffee, feeling the vapours still rising to meet her nose as she cradles it close to her face. It was small payment, sure, but then it was a small thing he asked.

"Lia." She tells him, a simple enough answer and true enough to be worth the few notes he'd spent on the damnable caffine he'd so readily given up for her. She tilts the cup towards him in a simple, quiet gesture. "It's paid, that." She sniffs again, and rubs more aggressivly at the nose that appeared to be intent upon ruining the first hot beverage that she'd had in... how long? Too long.

Mind's wandering. Back to it. Stay sharp, that's what momma said. May the stupid cow rest in some piece. Maybe pieces. He had been angry, had old Bobby.

Focus!

"McLoughlan" she echoes, her lips twisting around the word before she wrinkles her nose at it. "Mouthful. Chuckles." She grins to herself at that. He did appear to be a man in sore need of amusement. Clever, Lia, she congratulates herself. Clever.

"Didn't come here for a name though. I knows that."

She sniffed again, glancing towards the others side. "Ahn Whoospie Ladies're that way. So. Cha want, Chuckles?"

Characters Present

Character Portrait: C. McLoughlan Jr. Character Portrait: Amelia Spiers

0.00 INK

#, as written by Prose
McLoughlan placed his hands on his knees and stood up. There was no creak in his bones or soreness in his muscles. And yet, McLoughlan still felt his age. He bit back a groan of exhaustion.

"I don't want anything from you, Lia. You have a nice name. Do you need money for food?" McLoughlan asked. When he turned to her a strange event occurred. The white clouds parted in the sky and it almost seemed like a ray of light was illuminating McLoughlan. He radiated warmth and comfort.

A light glimmered above his head and then it was gone. The event lasted a single second.

McLoughlan seemed to not notice as he took out his bill fold from his back pocket. He rifled through a few bills and debated on which to give to Lia.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: C. McLoughlan Jr. Character Portrait: Amelia Spiers

0.00 INK

#, as written by Guest
At his assertion that he didn't want anything from her, Lia's expression moved from cynical to outright suspicious. Lips, previously warmed to a rosy pink by the coffee, become a tight, compressed line.

"Don't owe none of you nothing." She snaps back, slamming back the remainder of the bitter liquid in one shot, casting the cup into the garbage, and ramming her hands deeply in the pocket of the black-turned-brown-turned-grey-turned...what-the-hell-*is*-that? coat that did it's best to protect her from the elements.

She sees, but does not comprehend the lightplay that falls forth from the clouds, and illumination or not, she's known enough coppers that will drop you in all the trouble in the world if they own you.

Something for free. Thats the start of it. Tricksey.

"Don't want your money for nothin'."

Characters Present

Character Portrait: C. McLoughlan Jr. Character Portrait: Amelia Spiers

0.00 INK

#, as written by Prose
"Very well then," McLoughlan said to Lia. "If you don't want my money then I won't give any to you. Not for free at least. Do you clean? Cook?" There was a high possibility that Lia didn't know how to do either. She didn't seem like the type. The question was worth asking anyway. McLoughlan was understanding of Lia and her need to earn her pay. He was the same way. Morals held up fast in some individuals no matter what state they were in.

Some even died for their morals. McLoughlan knew that story all too well himself.

"I may have a job for you if you do," McLoughlan said as he put his wallet back into his pocket. The job was cleaning his apartment, which he rarely ever stayed in, and shoving a few cooked meals into his fridge for when he was there. Not many people would have offered such a personal job but McLoughlan was a sucker for females in distress.

And this one was obviously in distress.

"Take the job or leave it. It's up to you, Lia," said McLoughlan and he attempted to look her dead in the eye.