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Phillip Collins

Detective at the PPDOD. No relation to Phil Collins, the modern musician.

0 · 373 views · located in PPD: Occult Division

a character in “Where The Sidewalk Ends”, as played by Nannyhap

Description


Basics

Name: Phillip Collins (No relation to the famous singer of the nowtimes.)
Aliases: Just call him Collins. Not Mr. Collins. Not Phillip. Most people don't even bother calling him Phil. He just goes by Collins. If you're feeling especially formal, you're also allowed to call him Detective, but there are lots of those in the station, so that might be confusing.
Sex: Male
Age/Date of Birth: 35; December 23rd, 1922
Species: Decidedly human. If human beings had a contest to see who was the most human, physically and metaphorically, our Phil here would come in at least tenth place, maybe higher. He thought about having that changed once, but decided the whole fangs-or-fur option just wasn't him, not to mention he doesn't think he can work for the people in charge Downstairs.
Voice: Collins has a voice that might be described as gruff, even to the point of constant grumbling. This might have something to do with being a casual smoker for quite some time (though this is unlikely; he only smokes a couple of days a week, if that, and most often doesn't smoke until he can light up his pipe for his Friday night bath). More likely, it has something to do with the fact that he is actually grumbling the majority of the time, to the point where speaking that way has become a force of habit. He has a light Pennsylvania accent according to his relatives elsewhere, although he has no idea what this means and calls bullshit. He's also taken a course in pronunciation, and shortly afterward could do that Mid-Atlantic talk through your teeth thing that people seem to be doing on the television and radio. He's since lost some of that, so it doesn't sound quite right.

He's picked up some of Nasir's bizarre made-up phrases, and uses them on occasion without realizing that those aren't things people actually say in the real world.


Appearance
Image
Physical Description: He looks anything but young for his age, with mousy brown-blonde hair that has been working on going grey since he was twenty-seven years old and a long, solemn face with no shortage of lines (both laugh lines and frown lines). Despite its color, his hair is still fairly thick, and hasn't started fleeing the top of his head just yet. He's not an unattractive man, if you can look past the fact that he perpetually seems like he's in need of a nap or at least a Valium, but he does look tired, almost haggard, to the point that he concerns his mother on the rare occasion that he visits her country home. It's the droopy eyes, he's fairly certain of it.

His eyes look like they might have wanted to be on the blue side, and could even appear to be that way in the right light, but as it is they're far closer to grey. Not even the sort of light, dramatic grey you see in the films; just a flat, unassuming grey that looks strange on someone with dark blond eyelashes and eyebrows. Making matters slightly worse in that department, he is ever so slightly darker complected than most caucasian men, though it's seldom noticeable until you get him out into the sun for long periods of time. He also has a bit of a hard time looking put together—if you catch him unawares, his lips are chapped, his tie is crooked, or there's the faintest amount of stubble creeping down from his cheeks. If more than one of these things happens in conjunction with one another, though, it's time to send Phil to the doctor, because normally he at least tries to look presentable when he gets up in the morning. The daub of shaving cream he misses under his chin is the fault of the job, not really him.

His ears are a little on the biggish side, something his mother always seemed to appreciate about him. He's grown into them in recent years, and while he's still not so sure how he feels about them, no one has mentioned it in a good ten, maybe even fifteen years.

Collins keeps himself in pretty good shape, as any member of the police ought to do. We're not talking staunchly defined muscles here (he's never had those a day in his life), and a soft, shallow layer of pudge still coats his abs. He's a police officer, not a body builder, and as long as his body will do the job, he's not too worried about what it looks like.

He'd like to say he was a squarish man, large and imposing, but it turns out that Collins is really just man-shaped. There's no dramatic taper, no dramatic beer belly, no dramatic "dear god were you a football player in high school," or anything like that—straight up and down, with the beginnings of a frog butt (it hasn't been completely deflated yet, not that he spends a lot of time thinking about his backside), he doesn't exactly stand out among a crowd of gentlemen of the time. He only stands at about 5'10", a respectable height for any man of the time.
Distinguishing Marks: He has a handful of small scars, but nothing that anyone would call "distinguishing." Unbeknownst to him (because he can't get his head that far around and doesn't spend much time looking at himself in the mirror), he has a small birthmark to the right of his tailbone. It's pretty faint, and since no one usually sees him naked, mostly undiscovered.
Mannerisms: Even when he's completely relaxed, Collins rarely sits completely still. If he doesn't have something to occupy his mental processes, he spends the majority of his time tapping his fingers, tapping his pens, stirring his coffee needlessly, and fussing around with the things on his desk, despite the fact that they've never been in order a day in his life. Sometimes he pauses to stare at the clock of his wristwatch, or perhaps doodle a note to remind himself of something important later. He only slows down and takes a moment to breathe occasionally, and even then, "still" is not quite the right word for it.

When anxious or nervous about something, this behavior increases at least twofold, becoming a tactic to distract Collins from whatever circumstance has set him on edge. He often hovers by the phone, trying (and failing) to do something soothing like reading a book or listening to his radio, but these seldom provide any solace. Not a nervous man by nature, these instances are most often caused by concern for people both in his personal life and his professional one. When especially agitated, he will rub his temples or pinch the bridge of his nose in an attempt to stifle some of the less pleasant thoughts, usually to no avail.
Wardrobe: It's rare to find Collins dressed in anything but his professional garb; he seldom leaves the house outside of going to work. Most of his clothing consists of grey suits of moderate quality and equally boring ties. He has one very nice pair of shoes that he wears for formal occasions, but his everyday shoes have been quite worn down, and he's thinking about getting new ones.

His arsenal of button up shirts, 90% of them white cotton, is unmatched, and he has a few more casual shirts for around the house. Though he owns both a Hawaiian shirt and a red checkered shirt, don't ever expect him to leave the house in them. Same goes for the shorts to match.

He has a few sports jackets to go with his only pair of khaki slacks, on the very unlikely chance that he has a date, and some nicer ties. He hasn't had to break any of these out in quite some time, though. Occasionally he wears sweaters around the house, but you won't catch him dead in one for any less than a case of bronchitis or a midnight emergency run.

Boxers, not briefs, thank you very much.


Personality
Image
Moral Alignment: He'd like to tell you he's Lawful Good, but in all actuality, he's probably more along the lines of Chaotic Good. Though he tries to play the role of the good cop, sticking to the rules and making the right decisions according to the law, but most of the time he finds himself in sharp disagreement with what the law actually states. He's not a crooked cop by any stretch of the imagination, and when faced with any tough situation, he'll always make what he fees is the best decision for the most people. It just isn't always the most legal choice, and might involve punching someone in the face.
Intelligence: Collins is a man of average intelligence, although it might easily be assumed that he's at the higher end of average. While he isn't Sherlock Holmes, and often gets left in the dust by his partner, Nasir, he manages for the most part to jump to logical conclusions pretty quickly. This isn't a natural talent, however; the once hot-headed Phillip Collins used to be quick to jump to illogical conclusions, which did nothing for his temper, the poor man. It's only been since joining the police force that he's learned how to pick and choose which scenarios make the most amount of sense, and string them together into a coherent idea of events.
Collins is well-spoken, and enjoys things like reading and solving puzzles. He isn't especially keen on mathematics, not because he's bad at it, but because he has no patience for numbers and starts ripping up the paper into tiny bits if the math is anything more complicated than balancing his checkbook. He's also got some street-smarts. This is a man who knows how (and when) to pick a lock and get into an old warehouse if need be. He doesn't necessarily practice that sort of intelligence often, but knowing when breaking and entering is justifiable (or even a good idea) is sort of like riding a bicycle, just with fewer wheels and a little more risk to one's career upon miscalculation.
Demeanor: In professional situations, Collins gives the impression of being a man severely disinterested in what most people have to say unless it's relevant to his current case. He's married to his job, even though it exhausts him (he supposes any marriage might be that way), and often spends his time at work being exasperated, confused, or overly blunt with his coworkers to the point of seeming rude. He hasn't got much to say for himself in that regard; after all, he gets paid to solve crimes, not to be nice to people, and if they've got a problem with it, it's not as though they have to stand around in his office gawking at him until he apologizes, right?

He's aware of how thoroughly unpleasant he can get, though, and generally does apologize when it occurs to him. Just because he's a Grumpy Gus doesn't mean he's a bad guy, or even anything like one.

Though sometimes he comes across as curt or even downright rude in a professional setting, on a personal basis Collins is much more pleasant. He still doesn't have much of a sense of humor, and takes himself pretty seriously the majority of the time, but the boys at the station always like him much better after they take him out for drinks and remember that there's a nice guy under that suit-and-tie combo, just clawing to get out and make himself known to the world. And drinks aren't the only way to get this guy to take a load off—anything that removes him from his work environment for a little while, from an extended vacation to a trip to the grocery store, tends to reveal a slightly more tolerable nature than most people assume he has.

Attitudes: Collins is just as tired as he seems, with a little too much on his plate and nowhere near enough human interaction to keep him from taking his work home with him (sometimes literally, as Nasir often can't be arsed to walk). That being said, he's incredibly passionate about his job, and wouldn't trade it for all the naps in the world, though occasionally being able to trade it in for one or two and return to it later might be nice. Unlikely, but nice.

He thinks of himself as a sort of hero, styling himself after the detectives of the comic books he read when he was a lad. If it weren't for the fact that he's already living an exciting life of mystery, occult, and intrigue, Collins might go looking for trouble just so that he could live out the lives of his heroes and get things done all at the same time. Since he already gets to do things like that, he tends to keep the mental narration of his life in his head, and doesn't get too concerned about things like whether or not this is what the hero of the story would do. He is the hero of the story, and is doing exactly what he'd like. This might be a couple parts escapism, as Collins has left a few things behind him that he'd really like to keep behind him, but the better part of this sentiment is born from a true passion for what he does.

Earning his respect is not the easiest feat known to man, but keeping it is a much simpler task; once Collins has decided that he respects someone for any aspect of their personality or professional ability, it takes an impressive amount of trust-smashing to change his mind. He places a high emphasis on the importance of mutual respect, though this doesn't stop him from being just a little rude when his temper starts to wear thin. It should be noted, though, that once an individual has done something to put cracks in Collins' faith in him, it's harder than Hell to mend those cracks before they shatter altogether.
Likes: Coffee, donuts (he sees you laughing there), hot baths, long showers, a good book, falling asleep with the news turned down just low enough that he can't understand what anyone is saying, solving cases and catching the bad guy, comic books, medium-rare steak, ice cream novelty bars, detective novels, sleeping in.
Dislikes: Being awakened at three in the morning to brooms knocking on his ceiling, milk in his coffee, cereal, swiss cheese, too much noise, sleeping with the lights on, sleeping on the floor, closing an unresolved case, having to explain himself more than once, being reminded he needs to get laid, being rejected for dates.
Quirks: He has no quirks, nothing to see here, what are you doing? Move along, children, move along! **
  • Everyone's Dad - On top of being a bossy britches when it comes to his professional life, Collins has a hard time treating the younger adults in his life with quite as much respect as they deserve. It isn't that he strives to be condescending—he just takes on a very protective, almost mentoring role to most of the younger members of the PPD, as well as some of the older members who don't act their age. For the most part, his unsolicited advice is useful, and seldom too intrusive, but that doesn't stop it from being just what it is: unsolicited. He generally means well, however, and few people have called him out on this to date.
  • Out Of Touch - It would be unfair to deem Collins a shut in, as he spends plenty of time away from his run down apartment and doesn't mind going to the grocery store if he's out of food. However, he doesn't spend a good deal of time with too many people outside of the office, and hasn't had much of a social life since transferring to the PPD several years ago. He isn't quite Captain America level of out of touch, but most references whiz directly over his head and he already talks like a grandpa, incorporating the phrase "back in my day" into his everyday speech.
  • Married To The Job - Collins seldom has time for anything outside of work, and even when he does, the functions he attends are those put on for or by the local police departments in the area. Assuming you were crazy and wanted to question the fact that the man loves his work, you could, we suppose—question away, but that won't stop you from being wrong. He doesn't know many people outside of the office, and in retrospect, this probably has something to do with his inability to get a date.
  • Questionable Sense Of Humor - It's not that Collins has no sense of humor, it's just that it switches off if a situation requires any amount of serious attention. He doesn't even get grumpy (well, not necessarily, anyway); the jokes just start flying over his head, and usually he blinks twice and ignores them. This lack of humor is probably an anxiety response.
  • Silent Gossip - Not a talkative man by nature, Phil is often on the receiving end of many an...interesting conversation, to put it diplomatically. People seem to think he'll care that Sarah from the bank is seeing Harvey downstairs, even though Harvey is married. He also has a tendency to overhear things not specifically mentioned to him, as the quiet man on his typewriter is generally ignored. Though Collins doesn't actually care much for gossip, he keeps his ears open in case some useful tidbit of information comes up. For this reason, he rarely forgets birthdays or anniversaries, though usually he doesn't do anything about them to begin with.
Flaws:
  • Brusque - He's not the most polite man in the world, which doesn't usually earn him any fans. This is primarily a trait that manifests in professional situations, basically anytime his authority might come under question. Though he doesn't go out of his way to insult people or undermine their ideas, he confesses that he can be a little rude about things when he's under stress.
  • Temper, Temper - His temper isn't as bad as it used to be, but Collins can still get pretty riled up about inconsequential bullshit. Or consequential bullshit, depending on the day of the week. Already a hotblooded youth, his service in the Army didn't do much for his disposition. Sure, he came back with a little more discipline, and he hasn't punched anybody that doesn't deserve it, but for a few years after returning to the states, walls were fair game. Anymore, he manages to rein in his temper to small tantrums and broken paperweights, and outside of working cases, he hasn't decked anyone but Nasir since joining the PPD.

    He has, however, been known to punch a suspect once or twice for being a disrespectful prick. So far, no one has raised too much of a fuss about that, although he was once warned by a superior that if he did it again, he was going to have to answer for it. Collins doesn't see what the problem is—he didn't beat the man bloody, just landed one good hit on his face. Anyway, losing those teeth will make prison easier for him.
  • My Way Or The Highway - Again, a more work related flaw. Collins doesn't tolerate insubordination well. If he's been placed in a position of power, well then, he'd better damn well have some power to exert, and people had damn well better listen. And if they don't want to listen, maybe they'd rather go and collect trash in the parking lot or something like that, because he certainly doesn't want to work with him. He doesn't place himself in positions of authority for this very reason, but he isn't the one who makes the call on whether or not he's the head investigator in a case.
  • Mild Insomnia - Phil doesn't sleep so well these days, probably in part because he spends a good deal of his time behind a desk. While he loves his job, and doesn't regret any of the career decisions he's made in his life, one can only see so many horrors before they start to build up in the background noise of his mind. Then again, he was never very good at sleeping through the night as a boy either, so perhaps this has nothing to do with mental trauma from seeing mangled bodies on a regular basis for the last decade and some change. Most nights he gets a decent amount of sleep, but every once in a while, he'll toss and turn all night long—or worse, dream. And Phil's nightmares aren't the sort you can laugh at in he morning, either.
  • Firm Friend - Once Collins has formed a high opinion of someone, it tends to stay that way, for better or for worse. "But Nan!" you say, "how is this a flaw?" Well, to put it simply, Collins has a bit of a blind spot in his Justice Radar for the folks he's gotten close to, and is reluctant to believe that they could ever act contrary to the person he believes them to be. While he is aware of this fact, and tries to maintain the notion that some people just aren't what they seem, he has an incredibly difficult time of this.
  • Works At Home, Lives At Work - This poor man will not give himself a break, and puts in overtime more days than not, most of it unpaid. If you want an excuse for the prematurely grey hair that's coming in thickly all over his head, that'd be a good enough reason. He also has a hard time separating himself from cases emotionally, and sometimes the gruesome scenes he's forced to endure on a regular basis follow him home at night.
Philosophy: "To Serve and Protect" fits him nicely, although he prefers to carry out this mantra in situations he will probably survive. Collins believes that although laws aren't necessarily made to be bent or broken, they are written by human beings, and therefore subject to exception and error, most importantly when lives are on the line. He's been known to bend the rules in order to uphold what he thinks is Good and Just, two things which he has long since realized don't always coincide with the law.
Hangups: Though he's smoothed out many of the rough edges he acquired while fighting in the war, Collins is still pretty jumpy when caught unawares. His symptoms pale in comparison to many of his remaining acquaintances from his military days, and as far as he's concerned, "shell shock" has always been far too dramatic a term for his heightened state of anxiety. That being said, loud, explosive sounds such as fireworks and backfiring cars still cause him to reach for his gun. This is probably as much due to the high stress nature of his current profession as it is to his previous experiences.

He's also not all for people being in his space, be it his office, his desk, or his personal bubble. He has things in just the disorganized mess that he wants them in, and if you move even one file, it might be lost forever.


Social

Occupation: Detective with the Philadelphia Police Department's Occult Division
Relationships: Collins doesn't have many relationships outside of work, but those members of the department that he has made friends with have gained his firm loyalty, and will probably be able to count on him for the duration of their acquaintance. That being said, Collins has a lot of mixed emotions about people he's unfamiliar with, owing in part to his unwillingness to make a decision on their character before he's gotten to know them.

Towards the beginning of his career with the Occult Division, Collins was assigned a partnership with the department's Infernal Field Agent, Nasir Whitaker, due to his experience with rudimentary magic and the occult. Although Nasir seldom takes him seriously when a bit of fun can be afforded, the two share a deep mutual respect that can only be earned from nearly taking a bullet (or something equally unpleasant) for one another on several occasions. They have been partners for about eight years.

He has an acquaintance with the department's occult specialist in forensics, Billy Carson, that might even pass as friendship outside of work. Collins is aware that Billy often finds him rude but he won't apologize for art but doesn't hold it against him. He was raised differently, after all—Collins has heard that the deep South is a totally different world, and regards Billy with the same patient understanding he might allow Nasir or a space alien. The two get along alright, and Collins regards Billy as his only competition when the PPD decides to play billiards during a slow week.

"I think I read about that Krohn-Delhi fellow in the paper a few years ago. I'm not sure how to feel about that whole mess. A man's got to face some hard decisions in the line of duty, I know, but—well, there's more than one side to every story, and the papers sure don't do a good job of representing that. It wouldn't be fair to pass judgment before I'd even met the man." Collins followed the case closely at the time, making his own conjectures regarding the natures of both Martha Cathran and Mr. Kendel. He has his reservations about Krohn-Delhi's transfer, as work with the occult (especially where vampires, werewolves, and other sensitive nonhumans might be involved) is risky enough business for an unbiased person. He tries not to judge, but following the case has certainly cast the shadow of doubt in Phil's mind. He's also not sure he wants to deal with the reactions of the rest of the state. That part is a job for his superiors, though, he supposes.

The other newbie on the force, although not as new as Krohn-Delhi, is beginning to worm his way into Phil's heart as most eventually do. If he has any idea that Teodore Adamaszewski is a grown adult with years of experience in the force, he certainly doesn't seem to acknowledge it. Although he makes a concerted effort to call him by his name and avoid calling him "kid," it's fairly obvious that his mentoring instincts kick in around the young man. In part, it has something to do with the fact that he's just so awkward. It might also have something to do with the fact that Teo's enthusiasm regarding young women reminds him of himself in the very recent past (i.e.. last week).

Local FBI man Philippe Deladrier has earned something like respect from Collins, though whether it's respect of character or respect of the fact that he'd wake up without his teeth if he offended the man has yet to be disclosed. On principle, he feels similarly about Philippe's new partner in local investigation, Amber Haydon, although he hasn't met the woman yet.

The women in his life are few and far between, probably for good reason. Working in a male-dominated career does not lend to the acquisition of female acquaintances. He spends a fair amount of time asking Janine Wilder for her advice on this and that, including his inability to secure a date for himself, and is glad she has not yet let slip anything about finding him irritating.

Collins, like the rest of the PPD, works with the archivist Viridiana Wordsworth on a regular basis, although the two have never carried on a conversation farther than an indication of which book he would like to look at. He has some semblance of understanding that the ladywizard isn't exactly "all there," and does his best to be polite and friendly to her when they do interact. **I'm sure he has Opinions about her demon, so I'll update that when said demon makes an appearance.

His only acquaintance outside work (and even that's debatable) is investigative journalist Norma Roman, a wayward reporter that Nasir "adopted" when he found her snooping around Phil's office in the wee hours of the night. She sometimes comes to him to read over her articles before submitting them for publishing if Nasir is not available for this purpose. Though Collins is aware that she does it because he's more lenient than his partner, he appreciates the attention nonetheless.

**Will be updated when we have more PPD babies and other folks Collins would know if there are any.

Economic Status: Collins lives on a salary intended for a man providing for his family, but he lives very much alone. While it wouldn't feed a family of four and send them on vacation each year (yet...a few more years might have a raise in store for him, if he lives that long), it doesn't leave your average bachelor wanting for very much. He occupies the apartment just below Nasir's at the behest of the local head of Occult Liaisons, on the grounds that he keep an eye on the IFA in case he should be up to any mischief. It isn't the most luxurious apartment, but it has a bedroom, a bathroom, a working kitchen, and hot water, which is all Collins really needs. It's also air-conditioned, which, given the rent, is more than he could have asked for.

He saves most of his money for the future, well aware that his salary alone will not be enough to support a family should he finally settle down. He's got enough squirreled away to give him a head start at the American Dream, picket fence and all.
Opinions: Religion
Collins has found himself a happy medium between Buddhism, agnosticism, and giving absolutely no shits. He tries not to mention this to anyone in particular, as given the attitudes of the time period, it's fairly out-of-place. In all fairness, he's probably got the Buddhism part of the whole thing wrong, but he's a practiced veteran at the rest of it.
Women
Something of an accidental progressive in this department, Collins does his best to apply the "don't judge a book by its cover" motto to the women in his life as well. He can see where the stereotypes come from—he's met many, many women in his life who wanted nothing more than to be taken care of, without having to spend a day of their lives thinking for themselves. But he's also met some impressive ladies, quick-witted and headstrong, and he can respect them for these qualities just about as much as he can respect any man for the same. This probably comes from being raised by three older sisters and his mother, as his father was mostly an absent figure in his young life.

He'd like to settle down with a nice girl, but is adamant about keeping to his profession, which several of his former sweethearts have been more than a little opposed to. While he knows the job is dangerous, he can't see himself sitting behind a desk any more than he already does.
Demons
Though he went into this job fairly suspicious of all demonic entities, eight years with a Raker as a partner have somewhat quelled his apprehensions. Collins is wise enough not to try to befriend any demon he meets on the street, or even most of them, but he's learned a fundamental lesson on the fact that demons are just as confused and discontent as humans are. "Demons are people too" is a bit of an understatement.
Other Supernatural Entities
Most supernatural entities, such as vampires, werewolves, and ghosts, were once human. Collins tries to treat them as such, although he ups the caution level to eleven.
Wizards
Uppity bastards with no sense of humor. Collins isn't the biggest fan of wizards—he's had his fair share of them in his time, and as far as he's concerned, their tinkering and "academic interests" have only made matters worse at any given point.
The FBI
He's not looking forward to their inevitable visit. He never does, as a matter of fact. In his early days as a police officer and then detective, he tried his best to be cordial to the FBI, but has since discovered that this is a lost cause. And as if the traditional FBI wasn't bad enough, the SOB seems to have even poorer manners—not a surprise when you consider the fact that it's populated by altogether too many wizards, who are not known for their social skills.
This Whole "End Of The World" Business
Bullshit, if you'll excuse his French. He understands the public's need to get jumpy when they feel their lives are threatened, but people are playing entirely too much into the idea that the world is ending, especially considering things haven't started spiraling out of control just yet. He's tired of hearing little bald men standing on soap boxes shouting through the windows of the Occult Division's building about the End Times, and he swears that if his mother calls him and asks him to repent his sins one more time, he's going to cut off contact with her until the whole business is over.

As for the events themselves, they're starting to frazzle him a little. Though the worst of it is only just beginning, it's becoming obvious that the PPD won't be able to control this Infernal outbreak for long, which makes him nervous. Worse yet, he's well aware that in the near future, someone will have to call in the SOB, and more than likely they'll bring a bunch of wizards to "make things right," which can only end in further frustration. And Nasir and that fellow with the glasses don't get along....


Combat and Abilities

Combat Prowess: Collins is a competent marksman, a trait he owes to four years of army service and a lengthy career in the Philadelphia Police Department, both Occult Division and non. Though he's more comfortable with handguns, Collins has enough experience with other kinds of firearms that he can generally make use of whatever is on hand without doing major damage to himself or surrounding allies. On more than one occasion when forced to do this, however, he's been glad to remember that his partner is functionally immortal.

Though he has no formal training in hand to hand combat, Phil had heaploads of informal training during his school days, when throwing a good punch (or returning a good punch) was simply a bonding activity between boys. He's still pretty decent at landing and taking a hit when he needs to be, although he tries not to engage in any unnecessary fistfights when they can be avoided. He's been known to punch suspects once or twice, but generally stops before doing serious damage.
Equipment On Hand: Collins has his police-issued handgun with him at all times, as he's been in more than a few situations where things have escalated quickly. He also carries a notepad, several pens, a small pack of cigarettes (this usually lasts him a couple weeks at a time), and his wallet, which usually contains anywhere from five to ten dollars in one dollar bills. Never know when you'll get into a spot of bother, and a man has got to eat.
Special Training/Aptitude: Though you wouldn't know it from looking at him, Collins actually has an impressive background in the study of magic, a factor which has saved his life on more than one occasion in the last eight years. He's no wizard by any stretch of the imagination, but he has enough training to be fairly confident about the basics and wing the rest. Tricks like keeping his meals warm, not running out of hot water, and unweaving the most amateur of spells are not outside of his reach. Because this magic is so rudimentary, it is not considered "unlicensed wizardry"—a wizard who saw Collins trying to do magic would probably laugh at him, as he wastes a great deal of time and concentration on very little tricks.

His background in the occult goes way back to his days in the army, where a cool head after a brush with a sinister new enemy earned him (and the need for a team to handle occult incidences) recognition from his superiors. Though he hasn't gone to school for it, Collins underwent training under the many occult specialists brought in to form this new team, and while he isn't qualified to apply for consulting work, there's a reason the PPD paired him with the division's demon.


General History

Phillip Collins was born in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania in 1922, to a seamstress and a Marine officer. His father, Aaron Collins, spent much of his time abroad and was absent for the majority of Phil's young life, leaving his only son to be raised by his wife and his three older sisters. The two were never especially close, even after his father's diagnosis with throat cancer and subsequent retirement.

Collins attended a co-ed Catholic dayschool up until the twelfth grade at his mother's behest, an effort to prepare him for seminary school later in life. This is where Collins was first introduced to theoretical magic, including banishments and wards, although he didn't the practical application of any of these things until much, much later.

Contrary to his mother's plans, Collins enlisted in the US Army at eighteen years old in early 1941, before it became apparent that the US was going to enter into the war. He was only set to serve a two-year term, but like many young soldiers, found himself in for the duration of the war following the attack on Pearl Harbor. During this time, he was inducted into the first Army task force specializing in occult threats, an area which had been traditionally covered by specialized teams of civilians.

After the war, Collins, like most men, was a little bit lost. He'd been all set to marry a young lady from his high school and ignore his mother's wishes for him to join the clergy, but in his four-year absence, she had gotten impatient and moved on, and though he seemed to have avoided what was being dubbed "shell shock" at the time, it wasn't a stretch to say that the young man who had marched off to the Army four years previous was not the same young man who marched back. He moved to Philadelphia, where he spent a grand total of two years doing odd jobs and having unsuccessful relationships with women who mistook his natural reticence for "emotional damage" and tried to get him to open up about his experiences overseas.

Clearly they hadn't read any books on how to deal with former soldiers.

Professional History
After two years of directionless existence, Collins saw fit to do something with his life, and put in his application with the local police department. After a six-month course in the local police academy and a semester class on criminal psychology at a Philadelphia university, he was hired on as a police officer, and was later promoted to "detective" after pursuing further training in the field.

After a year in the position of detective at the PPD, his training in the Occult had not gone unnoticed. Collins was transferred to the PPDOD when its IFA's old partner finally retired at age 67, after being deemed too old to deal with the fast-paced nature of working with the Occult. He's held the position for the last eight years and some change, and though he hasn't received any promotions in that time, the impressive increase in salary coupled with his passion for the job will keep him at it for quite some time, likely until he can't anymore.

So begins...

Phillip Collins's Story

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Character Portrait: Nasir Whitaker Character Portrait: Phillip Collins
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It was Tuesday. Considering the amount of overtime everyone in the Philadelphia Police Department was putting in, though, all the days had started to run together.

The russet clouds that had settled over the city were making everyone nervous, not that everyone didn't already have reason to be nervous enough. Just a few months ago, Phillip Collins had been entirely certain that he didn't want to spend the rest of his life sitting behind a desk, scrawling his way into an early retirement, but that had been before the city had lost its mind. Now he couldn't think of anything that he wanted to do more, except perhaps slink away to some remote island in the Pacific and stay there until all of this blew over.

But that wasn't an option. The morgues were filling up, the department was down to the bare-bones of its usual operating staff, and even with the Occult Division stretched so thin, Collins knew they were going to have to stretch further. The phones were ringing at least twice an hour, more during the late evening and early morning hours—panic, he assumed, was starting to make people see shadows (because Collins preferred not to think that so many citizens were actually seeing Shadows). This was the first break from patrolling that he'd gotten in over a week, and the first time he'd gotten the chance to work on more than three hours of sleep in about that long. He was exhausted.

At least he had reason to linger in the air-conditioned building, he thought, going over the most recent incident report with a ball-point pen and a determined look in his eye. Another missing vampire, it seemed. Despite the public's lack of concern for the less fragile portions of the population, it was the deaths and disappearances among vampires that were starting to weigh on the detective's nerves. The idea of something being able to take down individuals who were functionally immortal with such apparent ease made his stomach churn; even demons had a hard time getting rid of vampires.

All the demons Collins had encountered, anyway. The thought of demons any more powerful than that sent a chill down his spine.

He scribbled a few notes in a tight scrawl, hoping that someone would be able to read them later. A handful of officers had already been sent to confer with the family, but ultimately, the investigation would fall to the response team the FBI had already launched. Collins closed the manilla folder, setting it in the basket at the front of his desk, and pinched the bridge of his nose. This was going to be a long apocalypse.

The door to the tiny office creaked open, and Nasir slid through the crack, looking like the cat who'd gotten the canary. "You aren't going to like what I have to say," he said, smug grin never fading, "but hear me out."

The detective sighed. "When do I ever like what you have to say?"

This seemed to be good enough for the little demon, who seemed entirely too pleased to be delivering unfortunate news. "You know our little hospital problem? I think I've solved it."

Collins could feel the color fading from his face at little more than what he could imagine Nasir's solution to the problem was. The city's major hospitals were finally starting to lose their nerve regarding the other half of the vampire situation, threatening to cut off their cooperation with the Occult Division unless they posted officers in all of the city morgues currently handling the body count. There weren't enough officers in the Occult Division to maintain regular operations and post guards to each of the hospital's morgues, and no one hospital had enough room to accommodate the growing body count. For a moment, Nasir looked almost sympathetic, but Collins had been around him long enough to know that the expression on his face one of disappointment—he'd wanted to deliver the news himself, and here the detective was, looking as though he'd figured it out already.

The disappointment faded, and the smug grin seemed to return. "There's a Raker floating around Philly right now who owes me a favor, and a particularly skillful pair of hands possessing a facility much needed by the PPD just happens to owe him a few favors themselves. Now, I haven't talked to them directly, but given my recent orders from Downstairs, I'd say that even non-IFA demons are expected to contribute when possible. That's handed down straight from Her Dark Ickyness herself."

Detective Collins blinked at him. "You want to enlist the Joneses."

On the list of things that were immensely bad ideas, Collins was well aware that trying to cooperate with the proprietors of the Jones & Jones funeral home on Broad street sat near the top, just under jumping off of cliffs hoping that one could fly. Desperate times called for desperate measures, sure, and they might have been the only building in Philadelphia capable of holding all of the bodies that had accrued so far, but Philadelphia hospitals had yet to withdraw their services. Wasn't going to the Joneses already something of an extreme measure? "Can they be trusted, do you think?"

Nasir shrugged. "No more than usual. But you've got to admit, they're damn good at what they do, and they're the only ones who have the space. Besides, that takes our waking vampire problem back down to zero."

Collins shook his head. "Those two will just kill them all over again until they stay down," he said, with an air of finality. "And they might owe someone a favor, but they won't share their space with the police, and even they did, I don't like the odds of them snapping on one of our men downstairs." Nasir's face fell dramatically; that was a very real possibility, and one he hadn't considered. "I'm going to talk to the gentlemen upstairs and see what they have to say about our hospital situation before I leave this afternoon. I don't advise making that suggestion to them."

The demon had moved on from his brief (and somewhat uncomfortable) realization, and was now picking at some stray fibers on his woolen slacks. "Hm? Oh. Sure, I hadn't thought it through, that's why I ran it by you first. Billy's kicked me out of the basement, actually," he said, looking a mite guilty. "Anything you need me to do up here?"

The detective rolled his eyes at his partner; at least he was the same as he'd ever been. "You could fetch me some coffee," he said, wondering if there was enough coffee in the western hemisphere to finish what needed to be done. "And somebody who's willing to work on these reports, while you're at it. I notice the stack on your desk is suspiciously untouched."

The demon grinned sheepishly and fled. Collins sighed.

Yep. It was going to be a long, grueling apocalypse. And he was going to fight it tooth and nail every step of the way.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Teodore Adamaszewski Character Portrait: Phillip Collins Character Portrait: Amber Haydon
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Coffee makers always reminded him of the beakers in chemistry class; which, he was sure, contributed to his utmost care when it came to handling the stuff. An explosion of coffee would surely be no less than unpleasant. and surely scald the skin tissue right off his face. Perhaps by some off-chance mercy of a particularly humorous God in the clouds, that would be the bane of their current pest problem, and all they had to do was plant coffee bombs all around town.

... No, wait, Nasir didn't seem particularly averse to grounded beans. Drat.

Humming out his disappointment in a lone, idle tune, Teo watched the black streams pool into puddles, ripples giving way to rolls of steady steam from each mug. His was a bright lime green, tall with a rounded handle, with some form of neat script proclaiming fame or adoration of so-and-so location. In a manner one might be able to call "expertly," he swayed from side to side, avoiding fellow suits who were nose-deep in some case or other. The mugs sloshed gently, but Teo didn't spill a single drop. This was an accomplishment that took practice. The occult division was much busier than drug & vice, filled to the brim with furious stomping feet and ruffling paperwork, photographs of mutilated cadavers and telephones that rang so hard they may as well leap from their respective desks into the wastebin. He predicted one to go off as soon as he arrived at his destination, in fact. Dwelling too near to the wall nearly caused Teo to collide with the infernal field agent, which would have been a bad, bad turn-out of events (although sufficient research material to test his coffee-bomb theory). Smiling widely, wryly, Teo gave Nasir something of a talk-to-you-later shrug and sidled past him into Collins' office.

"Busy day, everyday," greeted the younger detective, "they should'a made that the motto at the academy, huh?" He slid one steaming cup across the wooden desk--either a subtle way of saying "Thanks for watching my ass that one time, buddy" or "Don't scream for the superiors just yet, I'm only slacking off a little bit." Who could claim it wasn't a bit of both? Unable to help himself, he craned his neck meagerly to get a glimpse at what his senior was working on. Vampires. Great; there was so much talk of those buggers lately, it was discomforting. He imagined Collins must be having a fair amount more stress about the matter though--why, was that a white hair he spied? Before he could open his mouth to share some useless comment, the phone rang--as he'd thought. Without entirely thinking (or asking permission), he swiped it from its receiver, nestling it between ear and shoulder as he toyed with one of his suspenders.

"Y'ello, Collins' office."

When he heard the voice of a woman on the other line, he half-expected a damsel in distress, complaining of a long lost brother and beseeching his department's aid in a long lost mystery. The fantasy was quenched and stomped into dust soon enough. He recalled hearing complaints around the precinct about the FBI, the strain in the foreheads at the very mention of the acronym. Swiveling his back to Collins to ignore any protest, Teo continued, "The good detective has stepped out for the time being, ma'am. Bathroom break. Very sorry! Couldja leave a message?"

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Teodore Adamaszewski Character Portrait: Nasir Whitaker Character Portrait: Phillip Collins
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Eleven years of partnership with Nasir should have prepared Collins for this sort of behavior, but he assumed there was some unspoken taboo involved in braining a coworker that wasn't a perpetually irritating demon. With violence struck from the list of options (and to be perfectly honest, Collins didn't have the energy to shout about anything at just this moment), he settled for narrowing his eyes and turning down the corners of his mouth into what he hoped was a very effective frown.

“Give me the phone, Teo,” he grumbled, somewhat halfheartedly. Whoever was on the other line, Collins was fairly certain that they would only add to his already unholy mountain of paperwork, and he wasn't sure he could handle that at the moment. Grateful as he was to be out of the heat, he was starting to feel as though if he ever saw another ball-point pen in his life, it would be far too soon.

Still, duty was duty. Though he would have preferred to see Teo chuck the phone out the window than answer it himself, he made to reach for the receiver tucked against his shoulder. He might have made it, too, if a familiar voice hadn't crackled over the intercom at that moment. “Detective Collins?” Miss Wilder sounded like she'd been caught unawares, which was enough to make him nervous. Janine was prepared for just about anything. “Two agents from the Special Occult Branch are here to pick up our reports on the vampire problem.”

Collins stared for a moment in abject horror at the papers currently strewn about his desk. The reports he'd already reviewed would probably keep the agents busy for a little while, but with as little time as he'd had to work on them, it had taken him several weeks, and the stack was a little over half finished.

What Collins needed for himself, he decided, was a good sulk. There wasn't much he was going to do about that now, but it was good to be decisive about these things.

“On second thought, you go ahead and take that call,” he said, creaking as he stood. He was starting to feel considerably older than his thirty-five years; the abnormally dry heat was doing him no favors, and hours behind his desk had reaffirmed his suspicions that a desk job was certainly not for him. At the moment, his quaint apartment seemed a million miles away.

“Tell them I'll be downstairs in a moment, Janine,” he said, leaning into the intercom. Then, tucking in his white cotton shirt and making sure his sleeves were buttoned, the disheveled detective picked up his coffee started on the trek down to the building's front desk. He would have to thank Teo later, even if the little weasel had intercepted what was likely to be an important phone call. There probably wasn't enough coffee in the western hemisphere to keep him from losing his grip on sanity over the course of this thing, however long it would last, but the first cup was a step in the right direction.




It was easy to see that the Philadelphia Occult Division was viciously understaffed. Though there had to be less than thirty people in all currently occupying the small brick building (and David was sure he was being generous with his estimate), the floor above them seemed to be bustling with audible activity. The floor around them, come to think of it, wasn't much better; a handful of officers and a myriad of secretaries rushed through the tiled front office, digging through filing cabinets that looked like they'd be in need of a good re-filing by the time all of this had blown over. Agent Harrison had been to the headquarters of Philadelphia's finest before, and as far as he could remember, they were typically more organized than this.

He might have felt sorry for the bastards, if it hadn't been for the fact that WAM was like this the majority of the time.

“Top brass figured you folks had enough on your hands and sent us along ahead of the storm to see what we could do,” he said amicably. While he knew that large-scale involvement on the part of any branch of the FBI would probably have been resented in a city police department, he had no urge to start that struggle early. “You won't even notice we're here, Janine.”

This was not entirely true, but David was sure a little white lie wasn't going to hurt anyone, at least as far as this particular matter was concerned.




Nasir had nearly run into Collins on his way out, a cup of coffee for each of them in hand, and had looked rather crestfallen to discover that someone had already provided the detective with sufficient caffeination. He had a suspect, of course—and as he rounded the corner to Detective Collins' office, he discovered that his suspicions were quite correct. There sat Teo, receiver to his ear and his own cup quite full.

The office now contained two people and three cups of coffee. There was a certain amusement factor to that, Nasir supposed. “Where's the old fart headed?” he asked, flopping into Collins' chair (since his was already occupied). “Does he have time to take a break? Looks to me like he's already behind as it is.” He didn't envy his partner in the slightest; paperwork had never been Nasir's forte, nor his favorite thing, and this much of it positively gave him the chills.