HFPD Cop Conrad J. Cooper

Conrad Cooper | Ex Clivesdale Sheriff/HFPD Cop | 44

[hfpdincorporated]

Happy Pride!!!

Beeee whoooo you arreeeeee for your PRIIIIIIIIIDEEEEEEEE Don't HIDDEEEEEEE!!!!

You ain’t got Nothin to be proud of.

[hfpdincorporated]

ACAB bitch

You wanna come say this to my Face?

[hfpdincorporated]

Dunno why people are sendin’ me happy pride. None of you have anythin’ to be proud of.

[pallazi-time]

Gasp! Conrad!! You need to support the gays!!!

[hfpdincorporated]

I don’t support anyone.

[hfpdincorporated]

Dunno why people are sendin’ me happy pride. None of you have anythin’ to be proud of.

[hatchetfield-ocs]

Do you ship your Hatchetfield OC with a canon character?

yes, romantically

yes, platonically

yes, but only in some universes

yes, but its unrequited

no

i ship them in an opposite way, destined to find and hate them in every universe

other

Voting ended onMay 30, 2024

PLEASE READ BEFORE VOTING: Please only respond with Hatchetfield OCs, if you have multiple OCs then just answer with either who you would consider your "main" or whichever has the most interesting answer! And if more than one apply, again just answer with which you think is most interesting

Feel free to say who you ship them with in the tags and elaborate if needed!!

[hfpdincorporated]

[hfpdincorporated]

[Phone call] Hey Conrad, it’s Blair. I hate having to do this as much as you’re gonna hate having to hear it… But I need your... help with Simon. He’s been acting weird about that damn radio station you lot have been buzzing over, and now he’s gone off trying to… I don’t know? Stop it??? Basically I can't find him anywhere and he won't answer his calls or messages, and I'm just worried he’s going to do something stupid. I just… yeah… help would be… nice… please?

Wait outside yer house I’ll pick y’up in my truck ‘nd we’ll find ‘im.

[He hangs up without a further word, already pulling his jacket on to leave.]

[the-man-that-doesnt-exist]

-The shock of Conrad actually agreeing to help him made Blair fail to realize he probably didn’t need to be outside that very second, yet he found himself standing on the side of the street anyway the moment the call had ended. His attention is drawn back to his phone as he waits, jamming his thumb over the call button as he tries to reach Simon for the hundredth time.

[hfpdincorporated]

[After around ten minutes, an oddly short amount of time considering how far the Witchwoods are from Downtown, Conrad’s old truck screeches to a halt, kicking up the dust under his tires as he rolls down the window, calling to a very worried looking Blair.]

Right, in y’get, Birdie.

[the-man-that-doesnt-exist]

[Blair looks up from where he had been staring at his feet, his worried expression flickering from a look of surprise to one of knowing as he steps up to the truck. Had it been under any other circumstance, he’d have commented on Conrads awful habit of speeding, and would have happily called him a ‘Shitty Cop’ as always, but for once he was more or less grateful for it. He does as told and gets inside]

I keep getting his damn answering machine. If we find him, i'm beating the absolute shit out of him… Also stop calling me Birdie. 

[hfpdincorporated]

[Conrad’s habit of speeding was one he’d had for years, he wasn’t gonna stop now, and hey, it was comin’ in handy, wasn’t it? He started driving as soon as Blair stepped in, eyes fixed on the road.]

Where’d y’last see him? He been workin’? I’ll stop callin’ you Birdie when y’stop lookin’ and actin’ like a lil’ birdie. You ain’t gonna beat him. Watch for anythin’ outta yer window.

[the-man-that-doesnt-exist]

[he sighs heavily,] I last saw him when i left for work this morning. I have no idea where he could be now, especially if he's having-... A Simon moment. [Blair realized he isn't actually sure how much Conrad knows about Simon, so he decided he wouldn't expand on what he meant by that as he looks out the window. Not because he was told to.] He could literally be anywhere at this point... I just hope it isn't those damn woods.

[hfpdincorporated]

[Simon Moment. The hell was a Simon Moment. Conrad shrugged, mostly to himself.]

I live in those damn woods, Birdie. I’d have seen ‘im. Or some trace of his dumbass. We’ll go to fuckin’. Radio station first. If he’s been there, they’ll know which way he went.

[He thinks for a moment before wordlessly picking up his phone and dialling an unsaved contact and holding it to his ear, keeping one hand on the wheel. Through the phone he speaks to @the-hatchetfield-hermit with a flat but authoritative tone.]

Pallazi’s gone awol. Nah. Not yer not. Th’ radio station. Uhuh. Seeya in five.

[He tosses his phone into his pocket, letting one of his arms rest on the window as he drives with one hand, eyes on the road, speeding but not in a ‘we have places to be’ sort of way, just in a ‘this is how i usually drive’ sort of way.]

Mickeys comin’, if anyone can spot a needle in a haystack it’s that fuckin’ freak.

[the-hatchetfield-hermit]

[Somewhere, in downtown Hatchetfield, a phone is ringing, displaying an unsaved number. The dimly lit apartment is filled with horrid sound for one moment before the phone is picked up, and answered. Mick barely gets a greeting out, before he's cut off.] Oh. I'm busy I-

[He frowns at the answer, rolling his eyes and pushing his hand under his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose, turning to a large coarkboard on the wall. Pictures stare back at him, accusing and silent.]

Well where the Hell do you expect-....

[The Radio Station. He looks over to the radio at his dining table, listening to the static pouring out for a moment. A mystery.] Pick me up in Five.

[He starts getting ready the second Conrad hangs up, grinning the whole way through.]

[the-man-that-doesnt-exist]

Oh, and what? You got eyes all over the damn woods suddenly? [Blair scoffs] But, right. Your right. Checking the radio station makes sense. [He just needed to focus on calming down. Maybe then his brain would stop jumping to the worst possibilities like the woods, and instead focus on the obvious. Blair stays quite for a bit, though he listened curiously during Conrad's call until he heard who exactly was on the other line. Despite his best attempts at hiding it, his face turned sour as he turned away from the window.] Oh. Cool. Cool.

[There was a pause for a short moment.]

But, uh, I'm sure there's no need to let loose the hound quite yet, right? [He let out an awkward laugh.]

[hfpdincorporated]

I’d-a seen him on my way out, Birdie. Hardly a hound, more like a lil’ rat that can see more than our asses combined. Yer fine, he’ll get in the back.

[And with that Conrad’s truck screeched to a halt again, he tapped the outside of his door with his arm through the open window, ushering Mick inside]

Right, In y’get. Nope, Sparrows here, in the back.

[He gestured behind him, his tone unwavering, not panicked or worried, but not as cold and harsh as it tended to usually be.]

[hfpdincorporated]

[Phone call] Hey Conrad, it’s Blair. I hate having to do this as much as you’re gonna hate having to hear it… But I need your... help with Simon. He’s been acting weird about that damn radio station you lot have been buzzing over, and now he’s gone off trying to… I don’t know? Stop it??? Basically I can't find him anywhere and he won't answer his calls or messages, and I'm just worried he’s going to do something stupid. I just… yeah… help would be… nice… please?

Wait outside yer house I’ll pick y’up in my truck ‘nd we’ll find ‘im.

[He hangs up without a further word, already pulling his jacket on to leave.]

[the-man-that-doesnt-exist]

-The shock of Conrad actually agreeing to help him made Blair fail to realize he probably didn’t need to be outside that very second, yet he found himself standing on the side of the street anyway the moment the call had ended. His attention is drawn back to his phone as he waits, jamming his thumb over the call button as he tries to reach Simon for the hundredth time.

[hfpdincorporated]

[After around ten minutes, an oddly short amount of time considering how far the Witchwoods are from Downtown, Conrad’s old truck screeches to a halt, kicking up the dust under his tires as he rolls down the window, calling to a very worried looking Blair.]

Right, in y’get, Birdie.

[the-man-that-doesnt-exist]

[Blair looks up from where he had been staring at his feet, his worried expression flickering from a look of surprise to one of knowing as he steps up to the truck. Had it been under any other circumstance, he’d have commented on Conrads awful habit of speeding, and would have happily called him a ‘Shitty Cop’ as always, but for once he was more or less grateful for it. He does as told and gets inside]

I keep getting his damn answering machine. If we find him, i'm beating the absolute shit out of him… Also stop calling me Birdie. 

[hfpdincorporated]

[Conrad’s habit of speeding was one he’d had for years, he wasn’t gonna stop now, and hey, it was comin’ in handy, wasn’t it? He started driving as soon as Blair stepped in, eyes fixed on the road.]

Where’d y’last see him? He been workin’? I’ll stop callin’ you Birdie when y’stop lookin’ and actin’ like a lil’ birdie. You ain’t gonna beat him. Watch for anythin’ outta yer window.

[the-man-that-doesnt-exist]

[he sighs heavily,] I last saw him when i left for work this morning. I have no idea where he could be now, especially if he's having-... A Simon moment. [Blair realized he isn't actually sure how much Conrad knows about Simon, so he decided he wouldn't expand on what he meant by that as he looks out the window. Not because he was told to.] He could literally be anywhere at this point... I just hope it isn't those damn woods.

[hfpdincorporated]

[Simon Moment. The hell was a Simon Moment. Conrad shrugged, mostly to himself.]

I live in those damn woods, Birdie. I’d have seen ‘im. Or some trace of his dumbass. We’ll go to fuckin’. Radio station first. If he’s been there, they’ll know which way he went.

[He thinks for a moment before wordlessly picking up his phone and dialling an unsaved contact and holding it to his ear, keeping one hand on the wheel. Through the phone he speaks to @the-hatchetfield-hermit with a flat but authoritative tone.]

Pallazi’s gone awol. Nah. Not yer not. Th’ radio station. Uhuh. Seeya in five.

[He tosses his phone into his pocket, letting one of his arms rest on the window as he drives with one hand, eyes on the road, speeding but not in a ‘we have places to be’ sort of way, just in a ‘this is how i usually drive’ sort of way.]

Mickeys comin’, if anyone can spot a needle in a haystack it’s that fuckin’ freak.

[hfpdincorporated]

[Phone call] Hey Conrad, it’s Blair. I hate having to do this as much as you’re gonna hate having to hear it… But I need your... help with Simon. He’s been acting weird about that damn radio station you lot have been buzzing over, and now he’s gone off trying to… I don’t know? Stop it??? Basically I can't find him anywhere and he won't answer his calls or messages, and I'm just worried he’s going to do something stupid. I just… yeah… help would be… nice… please?

Wait outside yer house I’ll pick y’up in my truck ‘nd we’ll find ‘im.

[He hangs up without a further word, already pulling his jacket on to leave.]

[the-man-that-doesnt-exist]

-The shock of Conrad actually agreeing to help him made Blair fail to realize he probably didn’t need to be outside that very second, yet he found himself standing on the side of the street anyway the moment the call had ended. His attention is drawn back to his phone as he waits, jamming his thumb over the call button as he tries to reach Simon for the hundredth time.

[hfpdincorporated]

[After around ten minutes, an oddly short amount of time considering how far the Witchwoods are from Downtown, Conrad’s old truck screeches to a halt, kicking up the dust under his tires as he rolls down the window, calling to a very worried looking Blair.]

Right, in y’get, Birdie.

[the-man-that-doesnt-exist]

[Blair looks up from where he had been staring at his feet, his worried expression flickering from a look of surprise to one of knowing as he steps up to the truck. Had it been under any other circumstance, he’d have commented on Conrads awful habit of speeding, and would have happily called him a ‘Shitty Cop’ as always, but for once he was more or less grateful for it. He does as told and gets inside]

I keep getting his damn answering machine. If we find him, i'm beating the absolute shit out of him… Also stop calling me Birdie. 

[hfpdincorporated]

[Conrad’s habit of speeding was one he’d had for years, he wasn’t gonna stop now, and hey, it was comin’ in handy, wasn’t it? He started driving as soon as Blair stepped in, eyes fixed on the road.]

Where’d y’last see him? He been workin’? I’ll stop callin’ you Birdie when y’stop lookin’ and actin’ like a lil’ birdie. You ain’t gonna beat him. Watch for anythin’ outta yer window.

[hfpdincorporated]

[Phone call] Hey Conrad, it’s Blair. I hate having to do this as much as you’re gonna hate having to hear it… But I need your... help with Simon. He’s been acting weird about that damn radio station you lot have been buzzing over, and now he’s gone off trying to… I don’t know? Stop it??? Basically I can't find him anywhere and he won't answer his calls or messages, and I'm just worried he’s going to do something stupid. I just… yeah… help would be… nice… please?

Wait outside yer house I’ll pick y’up in my truck ‘nd we’ll find ‘im.

[He hangs up without a further word, already pulling his jacket on to leave.]

[the-man-that-doesnt-exist]

-The shock of Conrad actually agreeing to help him made Blair fail to realize he probably didn’t need to be outside that very second, yet he found himself standing on the side of the street anyway the moment the call had ended. His attention is drawn back to his phone as he waits, jamming his thumb over the call button as he tries to reach Simon for the hundredth time.

[hfpdincorporated]

[After around ten minutes, an oddly short amount of time considering how far the Witchwoods are from Downtown, Conrad’s old truck screeches to a halt, kicking up the dust under his tires as he rolls down the window, calling to a very worried looking Blair.]

Right, in y’get, Birdie.

[hfpdincorporated]

[Phone call] Hey Conrad, it’s Blair. I hate having to do this as much as you’re gonna hate having to hear it… But I need your... help with Simon. He’s been acting weird about that damn radio station you lot have been buzzing over, and now he’s gone off trying to… I don’t know? Stop it??? Basically I can't find him anywhere and he won't answer his calls or messages, and I'm just worried he’s going to do something stupid. I just… yeah… help would be… nice… please?

Wait outside yer house I’ll pick y’up in my truck ‘nd we’ll find ‘im.

[He hangs up without a further word, already pulling his jacket on to leave.]

[hatchetfield-radio]

Conrad J. Cooper is aware of the frequency.

[hfpdincorporated]

Whichever fuckin’ freak at the radio station did this y’can knock it off before I find ya myself.

[the-hatchetfield-hermit]

Ohhhhohohohoo!! This is so much fun!! I'm so Excited!! It's like our own little mysteryy!!

[hfpdincorporated]

We literally solve mysteries every fuckin’ day, Mickey. It’s Hatchetfield.

[hatchetfield-radio]

Conrad J. Cooper is aware of the frequency.

[hfpdincorporated]

Whichever fuckin’ freak at the radio station did this y’can knock it off before I find ya myself.

[hatchetfield-radio]

TL34-7510-009

You are now listening to this. You’re confused, but you keep listening anyway. As you listen, you begin to understand that this moment is coming to an end.

[hfpdincorporated]

A young man walked into the station. He wears black jeans with a red sweater. He looks frusterated.

Mmkay? What’s up.

[leonidas-scratch]

He crosses his arms.

"I want files on my father."

[hfpdincorporated]

Oh, fucks sake. Your Daddy’s dead or long gone, kid. Quit wastin’ police time.

[leonidas-scratch]

His mouth twitches.

"Shut your fucking mouth. I don't care if he is dead. I want to know what happened to him"

[hfpdincorporated]

I ain’t got time to go on a wild goose chase on a man that died nine years ago. Yer wastin’ yer breath. Curiosity’s a killer, kid.

[leonidas-scratch]

"He died two years ago. Two. And the death was not confirmed. You people investigated but stopped abruptly, and refused to elaborate."

[hfpdincorporated]

You people, Phah. Who the fuck d’you think y’are, Huh? Burstin’ in here demanding shit. I ain’t helping you, son. Your daddy’s gone. That’s all y’need to know.

[leonidas-scratch]

"Fuck you. Fuck you and your refusals to... to do some fucking good."

[hfpdincorporated]

Sure. Whatever you say, kid. Grieve normally. Accept he’s gone. It’ll do ya some good. ‘Nd don’t bring me into it.

[leonidas-scratch]

"God fucking damn it" he says as he stares at the ground.

[hfpdincorporated]

Yer lettin’ the cold air into the station.

[hfpdincorporated]

A young man walked into the station. He wears black jeans with a red sweater. He looks frusterated.

Mmkay? What’s up.

[leonidas-scratch]

He crosses his arms.

"I want files on my father."

[hfpdincorporated]

Oh, fucks sake. Your Daddy’s dead or long gone, kid. Quit wastin’ police time.

[leonidas-scratch]

His mouth twitches.

"Shut your fucking mouth. I don't care if he is dead. I want to know what happened to him"

[hfpdincorporated]

I ain’t got time to go on a wild goose chase on a man that died nine years ago. Yer wastin’ yer breath. Curiosity’s a killer, kid.

[leonidas-scratch]

"He died two years ago. Two. And the death was not confirmed. You people investigated but stopped abruptly, and refused to elaborate."

[hfpdincorporated]

You people, Phah. Who the fuck d’you think y’are, Huh? Burstin’ in here demanding shit. I ain’t helping you, son. Your daddy’s gone. That’s all y’need to know.

[leonidas-scratch]

"Fuck you. Fuck you and your refusals to... to do some fucking good."

[hfpdincorporated]

Sure. Whatever you say, kid. Grieve normally. Accept he’s gone. It’ll do ya some good. ‘Nd don’t bring me into it.

[hfpdincorporated]

A young man walked into the station. He wears black jeans with a red sweater. He looks frusterated.

Mmkay? What’s up.

[leonidas-scratch]

He crosses his arms.

"I want files on my father."

[hfpdincorporated]

Oh, fucks sake. Your Daddy’s dead or long gone, kid. Quit wastin’ police time.

[leonidas-scratch]

His mouth twitches.

"Shut your fucking mouth. I don't care if he is dead. I want to know what happened to him"

[hfpdincorporated]

I ain’t got time to go on a wild goose chase on a man that died nine years ago. Yer wastin’ yer breath. Curiosity’s a killer, kid.

[leonidas-scratch]

"He died two years ago. Two. And the death was not confirmed. You people investigated but stopped abruptly, and refused to elaborate."

[hfpdincorporated]

You people, Phah. Who the fuck d’you think y’are, Huh? Burstin’ in here demanding shit. I ain’t helping you, son. Your daddy’s gone. That’s all y’need to know.