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Tulburate by the past, destroyed by the present, killed by the future. The man trying to find reason within people. Nothing shall remain hidden from the truth.

This thread will serve the purpose to showcase Walter Vaughan's development within Los Santos Sheriff's Department.

You want to hear about my time with the LSSD from the beginning? The very beginning? If that's the case, let me get one thing straight. No one really knows what to expect when you hit the streets for the first time. Polished boots, duty belt on. Pin attached. Your hoop is your vessel for exploring the world, and all it's sights, smells, sounds. You'll learn that your enemy surrounds you. They're everywhere. Every street sits a fuckin' banger. Every corner a hooker, every alley a junkie. Filth drenches every surface, and it's a cop's job to pressure wash it off. You've got one objective, and one objective only. But when you're enemy surrounds you, you keep your motherfuckin' front towards the enemy. No one ever sees your back. You'll push it to the absolute limit to administer your justice on the criminals plaguing the county. Because you're a deputy. A Los Santo's County mother-fuckin' Sheriff's Deputy. It's what you've been trained to do, it's what you're expected to do, and it's what you fucking do. But what happens when you push it too far? Only one way to find out. -ARUIZ "Our ends know our beginnings, but the reverse isn't true." - Don Winslow

Consider this a warning: this thread follows the story of a degenerate moron with a chemical interest. It will contain filth.

Detective Gerald 'Gerry' Hyeon AKA The Korean Arnold Schwarzenegger The rundown, because who has the fucking time to read a whole story. - Born in Little Seoul, Los Santos in 1985. - Served in the Marines Corps, did two tours in Iraq in the 2000s. One in Baghdad and one during the 2nd battle of Fallujah. - Joined the LSSD in 2011, worked out of East LS Station. - Became an OSS Detective in 2021. - Works primarily in the area of Vespucci Beach.

I figured I should start doing one of these. I am playing a cop on this server and I hope I can showcast his life and work better this way Anthony Riccardo after being asked to smile a little for the photo. Performing his duties in different environments and divisions. Davis and Ricc' planning the decoration of their Sergeant's desk.

Chapter 1 — Bad Times for Good Men The heat was hitting hard on Los Santos, making me feel like the main ingredient of a grilled cheese sandwich that had just gotten out of the toaster. Lazily fighting against the San Chianski winds that turned the air dry and the people mad with an air conditioner that couldn't cool the interior of a shoe box if its life depended on it, I tried to remember if things had always been this bad or if the high temperatures were just making me see the situation under a different light, like a really bad fever dream of a Pillbox Hill patient. No, I thought, sitting behind the wheel of my old Vapid, turned into a furnace by the boiling Los Santos afternoon. Things hadn't always been this bad. There had been a time when I had been a semi-successful detective and a somewhat merry man, but that had been before Sam kicked the bucket, Facebrowser and Quickdate ruined marriage work and the city was filled to the brim with private security companies staffed by rookies with not enough smarts and far too quick trigger fingers. In a place where the police were as useful as a freezer in Antarctica and the crime rate was skyrocketing faster than my rent, you would've thought business was booming for a man like me, but you would've been wrong. I hadn't been visited by a client in weeks, my car was threatening to leave me on the road at any time, my lease on the apartment and the office were about to expire and the only dates I had seen in the last two months were the ones of the calendar. But at least I still wasn't a police officer or deputy sheriff. Just the best detective in the world. Laying back on my chair, I figured the last problem could be solved easily. Quickdate made it easy to find a main squeeze, certainly easier than figuring out a way to find enough money to renew the leases or change my car. The only place where you could find more needy kittens willing to come with you was at a shelter for stray cats. As I scrolled through the endless list of profiles featuring third-hand jokes and witty lines that had gone out of fashion twenty years ago, my eye was caught by a tall brunette with eyes that could make you say things you'd regret a moment later and a body that promised many sleepless nights. Browsing through her profile, I realized I had seen her before. The Little Teapot, the previous afternoon. She was the uptown-looking girl sitting alone next to the window overlooking the street, all clad in a high-class jacket and a skirt that left little to the imagination and probably costed what I had made in the last year. I had seen her leave in a car that was probably worth what I had made in the last ten years. With that realization, I figured she probably had a line of suitors stretching around L.S. and all the way up to Paleto. I sent her a message and joined the queue. As I closed Quickdate I thought that perhaps my lack of dates and lack of work went hand-in-hand. Maybe the source of the problem was the same. With a budget like mine, the amount I could spend on advertising was on par with the one City uses to tar the roads down in Rancho, and the roads in Rancho have holes so big you can lose a full ten-wheeler in them. Besides, a giant billboard in Downtown with my face plastered on it was something for lawyers and politicians. But in the digital age e-mails were free and you could safely bother anyone across the globe. I opened up a new window on my phone and began to type an introduction.

«Envy thou not the oppressor, and choose none of his ways.» — Proverbs 3:31, KJV

Leon Emmerich This thread showcases the life of an LSPD Detective with the Robbery-Homicide Division.