Kendrix-lamar
Socially awkward penguin
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Kendrix-lamar
Socially awkward penguin
(( A new therpist assigned to work with a serial killer vampire))
Killian would be lying if he had said his first day was starting off good. When he started schooling to become a psychologists practicing his study in a prison wasn't really what he had in mind. Even so it wasn't like he resented the opportunity he had found it just was harder than he anticipated. His time studying and shadowing others in his profession people more than often came to the offices voluntarily seeking and wanting help. Here in prison it was much different. So far the few cases he had the men simply just blew him off, he couldn't quiet blame them most felt it was pointless when they were serving such long sentences. Plus he was new he wasn't going to simply gain trust at first glance. No prison had hardened these men and so did the lives they held before being convicted of their crimes.
He sighed as he walked down the staff hallways pushing his black rimmed glasses up his nose. One of the sides tapped together, some form of regret sat in his mind for not getting them fixed before his first day. Though really he wasn't trying to impress the imates most he was sure thought he was just some privileged kid doing charity work. Even if that was far from the truth he understood their apprehension towards him. No one trusted the system, not even him which was ironic now that he was working in that system. He looked down at the files in his hand labed 'Krazter Jäger' it was quiet thick and it was the file he had studied the most when he first got in early that morning.
The warden warned him that the man was dangerous but their other hired psychologists refused to see him anymore so someone had to and that someone was him. Killian was very much made aware of the crimes the other man was in for and the fact he was a vampire. That fact intrigued him the most, he never actually met a vampire. He knew that society didn't accept them and thought them all as armed bombs waiting to essentially explode. They were treated like third class citizens and barley that at times which didn't sit right with him. Even given their altered state they were still people in his mind. So meeting one he hoped maybe to clear up what was fact and what was fiction from what was put out on media outlets about vampires and about the famous killer himself.
Going to treat a known prolific serial killer wasn't actually a daunting task in his eyes. He felt as if everyone deserved a chance for help, and a chance to heal. Maybe it was blind innocence on his part but he didn't care. The man reached a guarded door met by Barney himself. It was their first time meeting and he could tell he was being eyed up by the guard. He stood tall trying to present well though he wasn't very strong which his skinny body gave away. For his first day, beyond orientation the previous day, he wore a deep navy sweater that had a white button up under it paired with black slacks and simple black loafers. His naturally brown hair that had red tones to it was brushed back for once in his life. The pale skin ontop of it all gave away his Irish heritage. His clothes were nothing fancy but it was presentable. He showed his ID badge to the guard "I'm here to see Krazter" he said his voice like a melody when he spoke.
Barney eyed the younger man just as he thought he probably wouldn't last long. "Of course. Remember keep a distance. He may be chained up but he's proven to be a resourceful type." The two may have been on somewhat friendly terms but the guard was very aware to what the man inside the room was capable of. Killian nodded "I've been briefed a dozen and a half times" he assured and that wasn't a joke. The warden, the other psychologists, and guards who were aware of Killian's work detail all warned him about the man he was just about to talk to.
Barney nodded a bit "you've got your hour then. I'll be right here if needed" he assured before unlocking the door. Killian took a bit of a deep breath, nerves mostly because he was still so new at this not so much because of who he was talking to. His deep brown eyes focused in on the orange jump suit infront of him only seeing the back of the other man from the door way. He stepped into the room hearing the metal door thud close behind him once he was clear of its path. He moved to go sit in the other chair putting his files on the table finally coming face to face with the prisoner he had been warned so much about.
He took a moment taking in the others appearance, even with his face scarred there was a haunting beauty about the other, the long blond hair almost seemed out of place. He noted the tattoos but his eyes wandered back to the others face not wanting to stare too much. Sitting face to face with a killer vampire should have installed some form of fear but Killian felt none. He was simply doing his job. "Good afternoon Krazter nice to get to meet you finally, let me introduce myself real quick I'm Killian Alder and I'll be your new appointed psychologists." He said keeping his tone conversational almost like they had already been friends. He had already been warned the other didn't like talking about anything of importance so he figured maybe he could try and break some ice. "I was given some of your artwork you know" he gestured to the file. "While it's graphic you have some amazing talent for drawing" he complimented. He sat back in the flimsy chair he was provided wishing this could take place in a more traditional office. "You know I have to admit I look forward to knowing a vampire as I've never met one.....as someone who hasn't met a vampire can you tell me somethings about vampires? I hate to go off of assumptions produced by media" he offered a soft smile. It really lit up his narrow face well trying to invite the other in for conversation.
Killian would be lying if he had said his first day was starting off good. When he started schooling to become a psychologists practicing his study in a prison wasn't really what he had in mind. Even so it wasn't like he resented the opportunity he had found it just was harder than he anticipated. His time studying and shadowing others in his profession people more than often came to the offices voluntarily seeking and wanting help. Here in prison it was much different. So far the few cases he had the men simply just blew him off, he couldn't quiet blame them most felt it was pointless when they were serving such long sentences. Plus he was new he wasn't going to simply gain trust at first glance. No prison had hardened these men and so did the lives they held before being convicted of their crimes.
He sighed as he walked down the staff hallways pushing his black rimmed glasses up his nose. One of the sides tapped together, some form of regret sat in his mind for not getting them fixed before his first day. Though really he wasn't trying to impress the imates most he was sure thought he was just some privileged kid doing charity work. Even if that was far from the truth he understood their apprehension towards him. No one trusted the system, not even him which was ironic now that he was working in that system. He looked down at the files in his hand labed 'Krazter Jäger' it was quiet thick and it was the file he had studied the most when he first got in early that morning.
The warden warned him that the man was dangerous but their other hired psychologists refused to see him anymore so someone had to and that someone was him. Killian was very much made aware of the crimes the other man was in for and the fact he was a vampire. That fact intrigued him the most, he never actually met a vampire. He knew that society didn't accept them and thought them all as armed bombs waiting to essentially explode. They were treated like third class citizens and barley that at times which didn't sit right with him. Even given their altered state they were still people in his mind. So meeting one he hoped maybe to clear up what was fact and what was fiction from what was put out on media outlets about vampires and about the famous killer himself.
Going to treat a known prolific serial killer wasn't actually a daunting task in his eyes. He felt as if everyone deserved a chance for help, and a chance to heal. Maybe it was blind innocence on his part but he didn't care. The man reached a guarded door met by Barney himself. It was their first time meeting and he could tell he was being eyed up by the guard. He stood tall trying to present well though he wasn't very strong which his skinny body gave away. For his first day, beyond orientation the previous day, he wore a deep navy sweater that had a white button up under it paired with black slacks and simple black loafers. His naturally brown hair that had red tones to it was brushed back for once in his life. The pale skin ontop of it all gave away his Irish heritage. His clothes were nothing fancy but it was presentable. He showed his ID badge to the guard "I'm here to see Krazter" he said his voice like a melody when he spoke.
Barney eyed the younger man just as he thought he probably wouldn't last long. "Of course. Remember keep a distance. He may be chained up but he's proven to be a resourceful type." The two may have been on somewhat friendly terms but the guard was very aware to what the man inside the room was capable of. Killian nodded "I've been briefed a dozen and a half times" he assured and that wasn't a joke. The warden, the other psychologists, and guards who were aware of Killian's work detail all warned him about the man he was just about to talk to.
Barney nodded a bit "you've got your hour then. I'll be right here if needed" he assured before unlocking the door. Killian took a bit of a deep breath, nerves mostly because he was still so new at this not so much because of who he was talking to. His deep brown eyes focused in on the orange jump suit infront of him only seeing the back of the other man from the door way. He stepped into the room hearing the metal door thud close behind him once he was clear of its path. He moved to go sit in the other chair putting his files on the table finally coming face to face with the prisoner he had been warned so much about.
He took a moment taking in the others appearance, even with his face scarred there was a haunting beauty about the other, the long blond hair almost seemed out of place. He noted the tattoos but his eyes wandered back to the others face not wanting to stare too much. Sitting face to face with a killer vampire should have installed some form of fear but Killian felt none. He was simply doing his job. "Good afternoon Krazter nice to get to meet you finally, let me introduce myself real quick I'm Killian Alder and I'll be your new appointed psychologists." He said keeping his tone conversational almost like they had already been friends. He had already been warned the other didn't like talking about anything of importance so he figured maybe he could try and break some ice. "I was given some of your artwork you know" he gestured to the file. "While it's graphic you have some amazing talent for drawing" he complimented. He sat back in the flimsy chair he was provided wishing this could take place in a more traditional office. "You know I have to admit I look forward to knowing a vampire as I've never met one.....as someone who hasn't met a vampire can you tell me somethings about vampires? I hate to go off of assumptions produced by media" he offered a soft smile. It really lit up his narrow face well trying to invite the other in for conversation.
Kendrix-lamar
Socially awkward penguin
(( A female solider who takes in the enemy ))
Anya sat on her post pulling her fur lined jacket closer. Normally winter didn't bother her much but she had been sat with her sniper for about four hours now without a break. Her only salvation was a thermos filled with some instant coffee. The Intel was that the German army was close by to their camp. So everyone was on high alert. She shifted blowing her breath against her mitted hands. Her winter uniform was at least warm though the cold teased at her neck with her red hair in a mandatory bun.
She looked out to the winter landscape, their own camp closer to the boarder, right on the fronts of their military effort. Anya blinked her hazel eyes adjusting seeing something in the distance. She leaned carefully peering through the scope of her trusty sniper confirming she had seen something. It was actually someone alone but his back was to her. She couldn't see his uniform too well with the flurries of snow falling. She couldn't take a risk of this being an enemy scout.
She had been ordered if given the opportunity to keep the enemy alive for interrogation reasons. If she couldn't she had more than enough permission to kill them where they stood. Which she had no problem taking down a nazi asshole. She ready the gun steadying her breath as she zoned in on her mark. With ease she pulled the trigger the bullet would hit the man before he realized what hit him. Her shot aimed right for the leg praying it wouldn't hit an artery which there was always a chance. However she wanted to gain the praise of catching an enemy soldier.
As she watched from her scope she saw the man fall. She grinned and got up from position a pistol still strapped to her. The sniper post she had was about a ten minute walk from camp and she couldn't take the risk the man bleeding out. She climbed off the hill she had claimed bringing her sniper with going to the GAZ-67 truck she had used to get to her position. Packing up her gun in the back she then got in. The man was easily another ten minute walk away but with her shooting his leg she didn't expect him to walk back to camp. She took the radio that was set up in the car "red here....shot down a single nazi, no other enemies sited I'm going to investigate further" she reported in her native tongue. Her actions wouldn't be challenged either. She had already proved herself out on the field. Taking the jeep down to where she shot the man didn't take long at all. She climbed out of it having stopped just shy of the man. Her boots sounding heavy as the crunched at the snow beneath them. Her pistol ready and aimed "move and you die" she decided to speak in English with a thick accent. It wasn't good English by any means but she found Russian and German's alike understood that kind of statement well enough.
Anya sat on her post pulling her fur lined jacket closer. Normally winter didn't bother her much but she had been sat with her sniper for about four hours now without a break. Her only salvation was a thermos filled with some instant coffee. The Intel was that the German army was close by to their camp. So everyone was on high alert. She shifted blowing her breath against her mitted hands. Her winter uniform was at least warm though the cold teased at her neck with her red hair in a mandatory bun.
She looked out to the winter landscape, their own camp closer to the boarder, right on the fronts of their military effort. Anya blinked her hazel eyes adjusting seeing something in the distance. She leaned carefully peering through the scope of her trusty sniper confirming she had seen something. It was actually someone alone but his back was to her. She couldn't see his uniform too well with the flurries of snow falling. She couldn't take a risk of this being an enemy scout.
She had been ordered if given the opportunity to keep the enemy alive for interrogation reasons. If she couldn't she had more than enough permission to kill them where they stood. Which she had no problem taking down a nazi asshole. She ready the gun steadying her breath as she zoned in on her mark. With ease she pulled the trigger the bullet would hit the man before he realized what hit him. Her shot aimed right for the leg praying it wouldn't hit an artery which there was always a chance. However she wanted to gain the praise of catching an enemy soldier.
As she watched from her scope she saw the man fall. She grinned and got up from position a pistol still strapped to her. The sniper post she had was about a ten minute walk from camp and she couldn't take the risk the man bleeding out. She climbed off the hill she had claimed bringing her sniper with going to the GAZ-67 truck she had used to get to her position. Packing up her gun in the back she then got in. The man was easily another ten minute walk away but with her shooting his leg she didn't expect him to walk back to camp. She took the radio that was set up in the car "red here....shot down a single nazi, no other enemies sited I'm going to investigate further" she reported in her native tongue. Her actions wouldn't be challenged either. She had already proved herself out on the field. Taking the jeep down to where she shot the man didn't take long at all. She climbed out of it having stopped just shy of the man. Her boots sounding heavy as the crunched at the snow beneath them. Her pistol ready and aimed "move and you die" she decided to speak in English with a thick accent. It wasn't good English by any means but she found Russian and German's alike understood that kind of statement well enough.
Kendrix-lamar
Socially awkward penguin
(( female detective in a society that co-exists with the supernatural))
Another day, just another day of making back alley shady trades of drugs for blood. Yes if Sylvia got caught she'd be in trouble but she needed to do what she needed to do so her sister would stay safe. Rising tensions in the streets about supernatural riots and now her most recent case, the energy was at a boiling point in the city. As goods exchanged hands, one lunch box for another she made her exit quietly heading for her blacked out street bike.
One of the few activities Sylvia could find relief in. She hopped on heading towards her town home. The ride wasn't long but traffic made it worse. Once she got there she pulled up her hood walking in. She stocked up the fridge knowing her sister would be resting. Ever since the turn she'd become more so nocturnal. Not that Sylvia had good sleeping habits herself due to her job.
It was almost like the NSPD knew she was thinking about them because her work phone went off. Seeing the Chiefs contact pop up she took a deep breath, it was never good news. "Yeah boss?" She asked
"We got another case" the voice told her. "Come out to outskirts of town. I'll give you an pin point location....also I'm done not getting results. Hire a dog of the state, their best tracker" he demanded hanging up.
Sylvia knew what that meant. Most werewolves were monitored and used for their unique set of skills to obtain things like free housing or money. It also meant her boss was noticing her short comings which made her upset. These brutal killings had no leads, no consecutive answers if it was a super natural or human committing such crimes.
She didn't have time to dwell knowing her boss wouldn't like her taking her time. So she pulled out her laptop pulling up the data base and just picking out who had some of the best ratings, she wasn't going to look the fool. She contacted the number letting it ring till the other answered "Markus Winters? I'm detective Esdmond. ID xy204b if you care to varify. Your services are being requested by NSPD. Come to the address I send you or face jail time" she hated saying that but it's exactly what would happen if a tracker refused to help the police. Her phone pinged with a text from her boss and she sent it over to the number she called. "See you there in the next forty minutes" she told him hanging up keeping it short and sweet.
She wrote a quick note for her sister
'Have a case to work. Food in the fridge for you. Call if you need me -love sylvia'
She left it where it could be found grabbing her rain gear having seen the clouds on her ride. She didn't really care about riding in the rain. Just as quick as she had entered, she had left. Riding through the heavy traffic music playing through her helmet mentally preparing for the crime scene.
After forty minutes she pulled up to the crime scene parking outside of the tape. By then the rain started to come down. "Shit....not good for the scent trail." She grunted not even sure if the man she called was there so she walked forth to the crime scene. Standing in her all black rain gear and hood up, Sylvia could be taken for a man due to her build, short black hair and lack of curves. She didn't really care though since usually it made others respect her more which she thought was bullshit. She could see into the house able to tell even from a distance this crime scene almost seemed worse. Was the criminal escalating things? Sylvia pushed forward used to the rancid smell of death, the sight of the human body torn to shreds, things that would drive most to madness. It just made her want to fight more. Fight for people like her sister who were wronged in the world.
Another day, just another day of making back alley shady trades of drugs for blood. Yes if Sylvia got caught she'd be in trouble but she needed to do what she needed to do so her sister would stay safe. Rising tensions in the streets about supernatural riots and now her most recent case, the energy was at a boiling point in the city. As goods exchanged hands, one lunch box for another she made her exit quietly heading for her blacked out street bike.
One of the few activities Sylvia could find relief in. She hopped on heading towards her town home. The ride wasn't long but traffic made it worse. Once she got there she pulled up her hood walking in. She stocked up the fridge knowing her sister would be resting. Ever since the turn she'd become more so nocturnal. Not that Sylvia had good sleeping habits herself due to her job.
It was almost like the NSPD knew she was thinking about them because her work phone went off. Seeing the Chiefs contact pop up she took a deep breath, it was never good news. "Yeah boss?" She asked
"We got another case" the voice told her. "Come out to outskirts of town. I'll give you an pin point location....also I'm done not getting results. Hire a dog of the state, their best tracker" he demanded hanging up.
Sylvia knew what that meant. Most werewolves were monitored and used for their unique set of skills to obtain things like free housing or money. It also meant her boss was noticing her short comings which made her upset. These brutal killings had no leads, no consecutive answers if it was a super natural or human committing such crimes.
She didn't have time to dwell knowing her boss wouldn't like her taking her time. So she pulled out her laptop pulling up the data base and just picking out who had some of the best ratings, she wasn't going to look the fool. She contacted the number letting it ring till the other answered "Markus Winters? I'm detective Esdmond. ID xy204b if you care to varify. Your services are being requested by NSPD. Come to the address I send you or face jail time" she hated saying that but it's exactly what would happen if a tracker refused to help the police. Her phone pinged with a text from her boss and she sent it over to the number she called. "See you there in the next forty minutes" she told him hanging up keeping it short and sweet.
She wrote a quick note for her sister
'Have a case to work. Food in the fridge for you. Call if you need me -love sylvia'
She left it where it could be found grabbing her rain gear having seen the clouds on her ride. She didn't really care about riding in the rain. Just as quick as she had entered, she had left. Riding through the heavy traffic music playing through her helmet mentally preparing for the crime scene.
After forty minutes she pulled up to the crime scene parking outside of the tape. By then the rain started to come down. "Shit....not good for the scent trail." She grunted not even sure if the man she called was there so she walked forth to the crime scene. Standing in her all black rain gear and hood up, Sylvia could be taken for a man due to her build, short black hair and lack of curves. She didn't really care though since usually it made others respect her more which she thought was bullshit. She could see into the house able to tell even from a distance this crime scene almost seemed worse. Was the criminal escalating things? Sylvia pushed forward used to the rancid smell of death, the sight of the human body torn to shreds, things that would drive most to madness. It just made her want to fight more. Fight for people like her sister who were wronged in the world.
Kendrix-lamar
Socially awkward penguin
(( former solider hired to guard a famous singer who is on parole basically))
Ethan road in the transport van he had been provided in silence. Normally he'd had have some music playing but all the stations were covering the news on Reagan Chase, the very person he was about to pick up and be a personal guard to. He wished he had asked more details before signing on for this job. But if he had would he turn down the high pay rate? Probably not, Ethan knew when to swallow his pride.
It was for Samantha that's what he told himself. That was his sister, the very person that made dealing with some entitled celebrity worth his while. The memories of seeing her in the hospital still fresh on his mind. He gripped at the wheel a bit still very much angry from the fact some ass high out of his mind killed his parents and forever changed his sister's life. She didn't deserve that, unlike him anything that had happened to his body had been his choice. Now though she was in a very high end boarding school that could give her a glimmer of hope, more than he ever could.
He could feel a cluster headache starting, probably from the stress, a side affect of concussions he had suffered. He pulled down his sunglasses even if the sun wasn't quiet out. He sighed as he finally pulled up to the jail going through the security gates showing off his badge.
They checked out the van per procedures which didn't bother Ethan but he wanted to get this over with since he left his meds back at his new place, the home he'd be sharing with the prisoner. Part of some deal she made from what he heard. At least she'd be paying her victim so justice was being served to some extent.
Once he was allowed in he parked the van stepping out, his black security outfit looked different from the other guards and felt very different than his military gear but didn't exactly bother him. He saw the blond celebrity being guided out to him. He looked to the guard "right thank you" he nodded.
Ethan saw the guards push her forward but she kept her balance he met her look from behind his glasses. "Come on let's get this over with" he said taking the keys to the shackles. It was orders to keep her in them so he'd follow those instructions. He guided her to the van opening it up and helped her in.
"It's a two hour drive so settle in" he said before closing the door. He moved back to the driver's seat and took off back out the gates. The ride quiet beyond the hum of the engine and the sound of the air conditioner blasting. He kept his eyes forward not interested in any casual conversation. So the two hours felt like they dragged on especially with his headache.
They arrived to a gated studio lot that had a trailer home put onto it. That's where they'd be staying, his old red Ford truck sitting outside of it. He parked the van next to it and got out opening the back door. He guided her out uncuffing her. "Any attempts at leaving land you right back in prison so I suggest you just comply" he said and gestured to the manufactured home "welcome to your new living quarters" he said "I'll follow after you."
Ethan road in the transport van he had been provided in silence. Normally he'd had have some music playing but all the stations were covering the news on Reagan Chase, the very person he was about to pick up and be a personal guard to. He wished he had asked more details before signing on for this job. But if he had would he turn down the high pay rate? Probably not, Ethan knew when to swallow his pride.
It was for Samantha that's what he told himself. That was his sister, the very person that made dealing with some entitled celebrity worth his while. The memories of seeing her in the hospital still fresh on his mind. He gripped at the wheel a bit still very much angry from the fact some ass high out of his mind killed his parents and forever changed his sister's life. She didn't deserve that, unlike him anything that had happened to his body had been his choice. Now though she was in a very high end boarding school that could give her a glimmer of hope, more than he ever could.
He could feel a cluster headache starting, probably from the stress, a side affect of concussions he had suffered. He pulled down his sunglasses even if the sun wasn't quiet out. He sighed as he finally pulled up to the jail going through the security gates showing off his badge.
They checked out the van per procedures which didn't bother Ethan but he wanted to get this over with since he left his meds back at his new place, the home he'd be sharing with the prisoner. Part of some deal she made from what he heard. At least she'd be paying her victim so justice was being served to some extent.
Once he was allowed in he parked the van stepping out, his black security outfit looked different from the other guards and felt very different than his military gear but didn't exactly bother him. He saw the blond celebrity being guided out to him. He looked to the guard "right thank you" he nodded.
Ethan saw the guards push her forward but she kept her balance he met her look from behind his glasses. "Come on let's get this over with" he said taking the keys to the shackles. It was orders to keep her in them so he'd follow those instructions. He guided her to the van opening it up and helped her in.
"It's a two hour drive so settle in" he said before closing the door. He moved back to the driver's seat and took off back out the gates. The ride quiet beyond the hum of the engine and the sound of the air conditioner blasting. He kept his eyes forward not interested in any casual conversation. So the two hours felt like they dragged on especially with his headache.
They arrived to a gated studio lot that had a trailer home put onto it. That's where they'd be staying, his old red Ford truck sitting outside of it. He parked the van next to it and got out opening the back door. He guided her out uncuffing her. "Any attempts at leaving land you right back in prison so I suggest you just comply" he said and gestured to the manufactured home "welcome to your new living quarters" he said "I'll follow after you."
