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Casey Delancy

WCPD's newest Chief of Police

0 · 1,062 views · located in Caprica City

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by FizzGig

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.
Registered citizen of the Terran National Government

Description

*much thanks to NotAFlyingToyfor the profile structure*

>/loginuid: DelancyCasey

[[[ID ACCEPTED. COMMAND: ]]]

>/start agentdatabase.exe

[[FETCHING SERVER INFO]]

>/serverinfo 132.121.67.8

[[PATCH IN?]]

>/y

[[[PATCHING agentdatabase.exe AT 132.121.67.8]]]

>Loading files…

..
.
>Files loaded, Loading images…

..
.
….[[[ERROR-IMAGE CURRUPT]]] Reconnecting…
>…
>..
>Reconstruction failure. Attempt re-reconstruction? Y/N

>/n

>Image Upload cancelled.

[[…HACKING…]]


[[…DECODING…]]


[[…VALIDATING…]]


Username: [[cdelancy]]
Password: [[******]]


>Logging in…

>Welcome, Agent Delancy! What can we assist you with?
1) Active/Retired/Deceased Agent Profiles
2) Related Databases
3) Last Page Visited
4) Corporate Ladder

>/1

>Loading …Please wait…
>Loading files 257/257 at 132 kb/s.
>…Done

[DETECTION ALERT: ISOLATING SOURCE]

>/init actscan

[[[DETECTION NEUTRALIZED. ACTIVE SCAN INITIATED]]]


>Agent Name: Casey Delancy

Undercover Identities:
Nikita Gorbechev
Bethany Foster

Duty Status: Retired

Primary Capabilities: Undercover Operations, Marksmanship, Photographic Memory, Multilingual


Current Location/Occupation: Law Enforcement Officer of Wing City, Planet name Terra

Biography: Born May 17, 1987, to Robert and Melissa Delancy in Memorial Hospital of New London, New London, Connecticut. Attended primary school locally, before transferring to Florida to complete higher education requirements at the University of South Florida. Currently holds a bachelors degree in Criminal Justice and Criminal Psychology.

At the age of 20, she was accepted into Central Intelligence for international field work, and was proven to be an invaluable agent involving drug cartels in South America, specifically Venezuela. She was immediately put on duty in Moscow, but extenuating circumstances lead to a need for extraction, and subsequent discharge from the Agency for medical reasons.

Appearance: !ERROR, IMAGE FILES CORRUPT. PRESS C TO CONTINUE

>/c


>Whereabouts: Wing City, planet Terra

>!WARNING: The following files are CLASSIFIED to all subjects below seclevel 8.2B. Enter passcode to continue.

>/init passcd.exe/burner

[[DESCRAMBLING PASSCODE…]]
.
.
[[[…DONE. PASSCODE 180ALPHAlhBETA45c]]]

>/ 180ALPHAlhBETA45c

>Passcode accepted. Seclevel clearance ALPHA Granted.

> Agent’s identity is to remain a secret, due to sensitive intelligence regarding the Russian Mafia, The Hammer and Star Bratva.

> Equipment: Standard issue handgun, per Law Enforcement protocol

> Uniform: Civilian garb

> Personality: N/A

[[CONSULT HALL OF RECORDS: i.e. LINCOLN, ANDREW FOR MORE INFORMATION]]

>!Continue to Analysis?

>/c


>Analysis: Agent Andrew Lincoln
Agent Casey Delancy has proven to be an excellent tool in the use of undercover operations. She ranks at the top of her class, shows exceptional resolve and judgment under pressure, and works well in a leadership position. Recommended for possible promotion to Field Operations Coordinator.

Edit: Agent Delancy is at current out of commission due to medical leave. Return to the field is indefinite, but will continue to keep tabs for possible re-recruitment in the future.

[[CONSULT HALL OF RECORDS: i.e. LINCOLN, ANDREW FOR MORE INFORMATION]]

>/run shutdown.exe

[[[SHUTDOWN COMMENCING]]]

[[WIPING PRESENCE]]

[[[WARNING! DETECTION IMINENT! SHUTDOWN HALTED. ISOLATING…]]]

>Curiosity killed the cat, Agent Delancy. Enjoy your retirement.

[[CONNECTION SEVERED. DAMAGE: SEVERE. POWER SAVING MODE ACTIVATED]]

[[LOG TERMINATED]]

Personality

The Faces of Casey Delancy

Nikita Gorbechev


Image

Bethany Foster

Image

So begins...

Casey Delancy's Story

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#, as written by FizzGig
Oversized sweater? Check.

Baggy jeans? Check.

Grunged sneakers with mismatched socks? Check.

.45 Mag tucked safely in the lip of the jeans? Safety engaged? Double check.

Casey Delancy walked into Gambit's Bar for the first time. She'd been warned about this place by her superiors. It was the center of the chaos that happened in Wing City, where most of the trouble was promised to occur. She was off-duty, but that didn't mean she wasn't prepared. Walking to the bar counter, she lifted herself into a seat, pulling out a wallet and ID, identifying her as Bethany Foster.

She plugged in an order for an iced tea, then settled comfortably against the bar.

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"Hey there." Casey replied, her smile matching his. She looked tired, but only in the way that any full-time worker might look after a long, eventless weekend. When her drink came, she took it from the counter, slipped off of the stool, and meandered her way over to where Cain was sitting. On the way, she nodded and smiled to Terra, before walking past.

"Mind if I sit?" she asked, lifting a brow. "Name's Bethany."

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"Convo." She replied, trying to be cheerful. "It's that thing people do. But if you want space, I can dig it. I'd just like to look a little less pathetic than I feel sitting at a bar all by myself." She had the grace to laugh.

"So, do you co--..." She grew distracted by the other woman, who had begun to talk to herself. Casey paused mid-sentence, then chuckled.

"Something I should probably get used to." she said under her breath, glancing to Cain. "Come around here?" she asked him again.

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She seemed to straighten in her seat, her mind having wandered to a place far away from Gambits. The woman glanced to Cain, an apologetic smile stretching across her face as she reached to stretch her arms over her head. "Sorry about that, absent moment." When her gaze drifted around, she saw Viktor and Farai standing off to one side of the bar, in deep discussion.

Something about it set her teeth on edge, but she'd bide her time.No need to get riled up over nothing.

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Casey looked away from the bickering pair, her attention moving back to Cain. That apologetic smile returned, and she was fully aware of how rude she might have seemed. "Yeah, I'm ok. Sorry about that. Long night, and my mind tends to wander when I don't get enough sleep."

But she never got enough sleep these days. It wasn't an uncommon thing.

"So, if you don't care too much for social interaction, then why come here?"

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Casey was on her feet then, striding over to the gathering of people. "I'm so sorry to interrupt," she said, a concerned frown pulling at the corners of her mouth. "I'm Detective Foster. Sort of off-duty, but I couldn't help but overhear that someone's in trouble?"

She glanced from Farai to Viktor. "I'd be happy to lend a hand." And her eyes went back to find Cain.

"I think we all would."

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"You can come in my car." She told Cain, remembering his no-touching rule, and quicklyrushing out the front door towards the parking area.

The setting changes from gambits-bar to Lady Une Drive

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Casey came out of the car after Cain, reaching back for her holstered weapon before removing the safety and standing off to one side. "She's in this building here?" she asked, looking up at the apartment complex with a critical eye. How many people were they dealing with? What kind of ammunition did they have?

"What are we dealing with here?"


____________


Gabby merely stared at Delta, her expression bland. The sounds of more vehicles rolling up in front of the apartment complex got her attention.

An idea struck her. If she could somehow get the attention of those who were outside...well, if it was Hatchet's goons, she was screwed anyway. But if it wasn't...

Before Delta would have a chance to interfere, Gabby pulled her heavy pocket knife out of her pocket, and heaved it at the window.

Much to her pleasure, it shattered.

"I'M UP HERE!" She hollared.

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Alongside Cain, Casey stumbled sideways, throwing an arm over her face to protect herself as the car blew up and went flying. Her ears rung, vertigo nearly making her nauseated as she took to one knee and fought to keep her bearings. With a grimace, she managed to get back to a standing position, joggin forward to avoid the flames as the car started to burn.

_______________

"Forgive me for not knowing how to appropriately act during a hostage situation!" Gabby hissed, suddenly bringing up her elbow and driving it powerfully into Vargas' face. She felt the bone break, and smiled in satisfaction as she pushed off the woman's chest and stumbled back, before limping like mad hell for the door.

"Farai!" she shouted when she heard their voice.

The setting changes from lady-une-drive to Gambit's Bar

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The newest addition to the Wing City Police Department leisurely strolled into Gambit's Bar, having shed her oversized sweater in favor of a close-fitting black tanktop. Her jeans, slung low on her hips, swished together at the ankles as she made her way over to the counter. A holster was strapped to her waist, the .45 mag firmly snapped into its slip, though that didn't stop her from occasionally tracing her fingertips over the handle of it, as if to reassure herself that it was there.

"Morning," she said to Milly, offering a tired smile before turning to the holographic menu to get herself an iced tea. No alcohol when on anti-depressants, her doctor had said. Probably not a bad idea, overall.

Nothing seemed to be too striking about the woman. She was pretty, but not exceptionally attractive. Her brown hair hung in short waves around her face, eyes sea-green, and deep. There was a sadness to her, a certain wariness that she kept under wraps.

The only thing that might be of note was the hammer and stars tattoo fixed to her right shoulder.

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Her ears pricked at the pseudo-familiar name that was floating around the bar now. Kazen Horne. It was no secret what had happened in downtown, the explosives that had been set, the people who had been injured. She'd been hired to this precinct after all of that had happened, but it was the talk of her coworkers, especially the ones currently trying to work the case.

Invictus.

She'd heard some pretty incredible things about that organization. Infamy was astounding. She lifted her hand, rubbing at the base of her neck before awkwardly turning to look at Yanni.

"Forgive me if this seems a bit nosey," she said. "I'm just curious. He hasn't woken up yet? How longs it been now? A week?"

She realized she'd yet to introduce herself. So she stood somewhat abruptly, and gave a half-hearted salute.

"Detective Bethany Foster...heh."

Her eyes flickered to the man who walked in, bruised and grinning like a loon. Typical morning?

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"One of my partners is working the case." Casey replied apologetically, hooking her thumb into the lip of her jeans. She licked her lower lip, as if uncertain, then offered a mild shrug.

"Sorry if its intrusive. I suppose there's just a lot of people out there who are pretty outraged by what happened. If you were close to him...probably isn't the time to talk about it either." Her eyes flickered back to one Christopher Maxey. Shiners. Man, those were the days.

With a small wave, Bethany took a step back. "Won't bother you too much, ma'am. Suppose I was just a little too curious."

The setting changes from gambits-bar to Master's Dojo

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The range was usually empty about this time of night, but Casey enjoyed going out there for the challenge of shooting at a hundred and fifty yards in the dark. In spite of prior experience, she kept her muffs over her ears, slammed a magazine into her pistol, and let off six shots in rapid succession.

Like clockwork, she hit the release, emptied the cartridge, and slammed another magazine into the gun.

Three times, before she finally slowed, taking off her glasses and slipping her muffs down to her shoulders. She opened the weapon, laid it down on the table, and turned to grab a glass of water.

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"Every night's a good night." She glanced over to Viktor, her smile bright, carefree. Her hair had curled around her cheeks from the humidity and her own body heat, skin slightly flushed from the warmth.

It didn't matter that she wasn't wearing anything except a tanktop and jeans, the place had no breeze to speak of,and it was a little irritating.

She flipped a switch, illuminating the field for a moment and glancing up at a monitor mounted to the side of her booth. It had a view of her target, riddled with bullets, all of them either on target, or close to the surrounding areas.

She grinned.

Flipping off the light, she turned and grabbed another magazine before sliding into place.

"Name's Bethany." she told him, before slipping her muffs back on and taking aim.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

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She pretended not to notice the shaking or the poor aim. When she'd emptied that clip, she removed the magazine and set it to the side, laying her gun down and turning to look back up at the monitor.

Impeccable aim. She'd always been good with guns.

With her back turned to Viktor, the only significant mar against her skin was a certain black tattoo on her right shoulder, a hammer and stars. Idly, she reached back to scratch at the nape of her neck, and turned to watch Viktor shoot.

"So," she asked. "Why do you come out so late to shoot?"

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"You too huh?"

She went to one knee, rummaging around for a few cleaning supplies so she could do the maintenance work on her handgun. "I thought about private investigating, but I'm too attached to working with a partner. Second brain, bouncing off ideas, someone you can rely on, that sort of thing."

She hopped up onto the counter, folding her legs up underneath herself before beginning to feed the cloth through the barrel.

"How long have you been doing law enforcement?" she asked absent-mindedly, her brow furrowed in concentration.

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"I think we all have those stories." she said with a nod. "Affects us differently. There isn't a man I've met who hasn't wanted some kind of a fresh start.

She ignored the muffs this time, picking up a magazine, closing the chamber, and firing off another couple of rounds.

"Myself included." she said in the echoing silence that followed.

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She nodded.

"I had my pick of the assignments when they sent me out from INTERPOL." she said, glancing over to him before leaning back against the counter. "Looked over the credentials. For all the reasons you mentioned, I wanted to come here."

She half-smiled. "I may be one Detective, but sometimes that's all you need to start moving things in the right direction." Her eyes glanced to his hands, to the gun he held.

"No time like the present, you know?" she said, glancing to his face. "The WCPD could always use new officers."

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She waved a hand dismissively. "It's all we can ever do." she said with a heavy sigh. Smacking her lips once, she reassembled her gun, loaded a magazine into the chamber and set the safety on. "Hey, Viktor, do you think on a day off you could show me around this city? Or direct me to someone who could?" she asked with a quiet smile.

"I'd ask my coworkers, but they all seem to be a bit wrapped up in this business with Kazen Horne. Everyone's just a little too busy."

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"You're fine."

She wasn't, though. Her chest was tight at the news, and she had to struggle to unwind the tension that had laced itself through her shoulders. Lifting a hand, she pulled it over her face, puffing a sigh out of her lungs before rolling her head back to hang, her throat exposed.

It was tragic, how often innocent people had to die in order for a goal to be achieved. "I'm really, really sorry to hear that, Viktor." she finally managed, her brow furrowed. It was clear the thought had awoken something entirely unpleasant.

"I, uh, had to deal with something kinda similar in South America. But that's the sort of shit I'm not allowed to talk about, even if everyone else involved is dead or in jail." she rolled her eyes.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is that I get where you're coming from."

Nothing was as bad as Moscow.

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Casey studied him, her brow knit as she glanced down to her pocket. She fished in there for her phone, a cheap disposable, and glanced in the setting's section to check what her phone number was.

"I think I'd like to help." she told him, her tone sincere. "In whatever way I can." She glanced sideways.

"Could I get your number?"

Because she never, ever handed that shit out. Past experience.

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She reached over, grasping the card and glancing over it before slipping it into her pocket. "I hope things ease up for you, and soon." she told him, holstering her weapon and stretching her arms languidly over her head.

Letting them fall back against her side, she turned to grab her backpack, magazines and ammunition, and threw it up over her shoulder.

"We'll take it one step at a time." she said with a nod. Furrowing her brow, she reached back over her shoulder, scratching at that same tattoo that rested against her right shoulder.

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Her hand froze, pausing a moment before she lowered her hand and glanced back over to him.

"Nah." she said, her smile easy. "It was a fad in college. I was going to get it removed when I hit big money with the lotto." She laughed.

"Never happened. Stuck with it I guess."


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"I noticed." Bethany said with a wink and a smile. She adjusted the bookbag on her shoulder, offering him a small wave.

"See you later, Viktor. I hope sleep finds you soon."

And, with that, she walked out of the booth, and off towards her car.

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She'd taken care to keep the lighting dim. Candles fluttered in the late evening breeze, casting strange shadows against the walls as she slowly moved through her exercises. A graceful series of arm sweeps, high kicks, pivots and turns made the set look more like a dance, and the pole she held between both hands assisted with balance.

Looking to the right, she held the pole out straight, her arm fully extended before she brought the end in towards her torso, making a rowing sweep towards her right side before she stepped out, and threw herself into an armless cartwheel.

She landed gracefully, and she never stopped moving.