The Toronto Canticle
Detective Constable Eoghan Frost
A man of many parts.
1981. Eoghan’s creator left him at a halfway house with clothes and a long letter of apology, unsigned. As he learned more about what he was, he understood – whoever made him hadn’t wanted to and only did so as a step toward the New Dawn. In another world he might have hated the Stitch, but given the world he’d been brought into, he could see the desperate need to get out.
He got his name (Owen to the people who couldn’t spell it) from Ma Frost, an Irish immigrant, a widow, and a proud werewolf (she didn’t allow the term “lycan” in the house). Her son had been named Eoghan; he’d died in a gang fight crossfire. She taught him right from wrong; lessons on what he was came from Mr. Chapman, a gruff but fairminded Tammuz who did it as a favor to Mrs. Frost.
Ma lived just long enough to see them get rights; three weeks later her building went up in a gas explosion and she died along with 33 others. It barely made the news. Eoghan knew they were second-class citizens but didn’t see the full of it until he got out and saw enough of the first class. After a few years of barely subsisting he decided he needed to do something with his life.
1990. He passed the TPD officer’s exam with flying colors, which in his case meant waiting another 11 months to be hired. By now he’d seen enough of the Other Toronto to know the score. He was a beat cop for 10 years before he took the detective’s exam. He passed that as well but it was 2006 before, on a wave of SR-rights fervor (one of many that didn’t last enough to do much real good) he finally made detective. He bounced around for the next five years, never staying in a department longer than a few months: evidence claims, arson, missing persons, cold cases – he saw every job no one wanted.
2011. Another pro-SR wave saw him placed in IAD. He knew he was a token hire but he didn’t mind. At first. After two years in Internal Affairs it became apparent that more than half of all complaints were against SR officers, despite SR making up a miniscule percentage of the force. Human officers were one-third as likely to have ever had a complaint brought against them as their SR counterparts; those few who did were eight times more likely to have those charges dismissed, even for similar complaints. No complaint brought by an SR against a human ever resulted in more than a verbal warning; complaints by one SR against another were all but ignored. Frost realized that the main reason he was kept in IAD was to promote the pretense that the TPD cared about SR. Rather than raise a stink (and probably get reported to IAD himself), he put in for a transfer. Ironically, he had trouble getting out of his department for once; his supervisors shuffled their feet, saying there weren’t openings. They didn’t want to lose their only stitch, especially since he’d been so compliant until now.
2013. The deaths of four ECD detectives and the resignation of a fifth gave him a break. They could no longer pretend there was a lack of demand for detectives in the sector, particularly not SR. Now he’s in a place where he hopes he can do something good rather than feel increasingly like a phony.