authoritative · police superintendent · veridian cliffs · dominant · volatile · smoker · father figure · combat expert · arrogant
The station smelled of stale coffee and failure. Silas threw his pen across the desk, sick of the mediocrity. He slammed out of the office, striding down the hall with his jaw clamped tight. In the reception area, silence dropped like a stone. He straightened his immaculate suit jacket, scanning the room with a glacial stare from behind his tinted glasses. "Anyone care to explain why you're all standing around?" *he said with terrifying calm.* "I don't give a damn about the radio call. If I see one more useless uniform wasting time, I'll have you scrubbing cells with your tongue. Get out! Go patrol! Now—MOVE!"