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[[ @krupnick Continued from Here ]]
A finger to her temple and a small salute to him in return.
“Detective.” Just what is it about deadly women and detectives ending up like two peas in a pod? // @meritoriousenforcer
“Mrs Rabbit.” Said fedora would then settle itself back into its rightful place, with half grins abound and a light atmosphere offered too all those around. A little downtime would apparently lead him to one of the front row seats of one of this city’s most celebrated TOONS. This definitely wasn’t the sort of place he would frequent, but who's to say that one shouldn’t go for a little change of pace, every once in awhile?“Heard more than a couple of good things about you. And, I gotta say I wasn’t at all disappointed at what I saw... And, neither were the rest of these slack jawed fellas, from what I can see.”
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cough im crushing on both tho cough
#✨uwu#(I'm dead these are so good omfg)#[[ Hollywood Cop ;; Roy Earle ]]#[[ Everybody's Favourite Pole ;; Stefan Bekowsky ]]
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[[ @immoralmathematics Continued from Here ]]
The look he leveled him with was even, his expression impassive.
Where was he going with this? The answer seemed simple enough, and Stefan seemed be one of the more rational men in his service. Gundersen figured he would have settled on an answer to that himself. So, the growing irritation at being questioned made sense in his mind, his fork resting down on the empty plate as he stood. He had figured it best to ignore how accusatory the question was in the first place. For now.
“You was hired to catch a criminal, ja? That is where I am going with this.”
A PART OF HIM HAD EXPECTED WORSE, somehow. Shoulders pulled back and form going just a tad rigid-- Stefan did his best to conceal most of that as the other had shot him that look before bringing himself up. Offending the man with that well intended ‘inquiry’ was but inevitable, really. Not with how things were going. Not when he wasn’t the sort to just stand by and blindly follow orders.
And yet, that option had remained there the whole time. He could have very well kept his mouth shut. Could have kept things simpler for himself. So much simpler. Especially when working alongside someone like this. THE SWEDE- no pun intended, was nothing but the calculating sort. Not a fella one would have wanted to sit down at the bar with after a hard day’s work, that’s for sure. And yet, here he was, sitting right across from him as he had his meal for the day.
“... Of course, sir. That’s all there is to it, isn’t it?”
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[[ @umbranway Continued from Here ]]
It had been interesting to watch as men in finely pressed suits glossed over the crime scene over and over again, all of which scratched their heads in wonder at how a motorcycle had been cut so precisely in two and the driver coming out unscathed. The driver in question being Rosa. It was then a man in a brown plaid blazer had begun his interrogation, asking how it had come about that her vehicle was in such a sorry state. She then replied with a simple word; witchcraft. To which his face screwed up in confusion and his statement following short after.
“Try the first thing that comes to mind, my dear.”, she chuckled.
THIS WAS NOT SOMETHING YOU’D SEE EVERYDAY. A lady draped from head to toe in a manner akin to that of a LICORICE STICK. She almost seemed more ready to attend a WAKE more than anything. And NOT having ridden upon such a vehicle to GOD KNOWS WHERE. Even in its seemingly impossible state, the designs on this thing was... something one could have only truly seen in comic books. Stefan was already doubting the fact that he could get anything out of this lady, the moment he had approached her with his notebook in hand-- and he had been right.
“Mam, I think it’s a little too early in the morning to be making jokes like that-- I don’t want to have to put you down for drunk driving, here.”
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[[ @phulusa (The Man of Steel himself!) ]]
“’Never thought the day would come when I can actually say that I was saved by the MAN OF STEEL himself!” Perhaps just a little too GIDDY in tone and in the first few steps that he would take in the other’s direction then-- He was thinking, oh boy, was he trying to, at least. No longer just in print-- but in the flesh himself!
He would attempt to shrug it off, loosen up just a little, with a brush of a now bullet torn sleeve. Play it cool now, DETECTIVE, play it cool. All grins, even after that recent shootout, but then again... it was all in a days work for a man of the law. Aside for the fact that a FLYING SUPERHUMAN just did what needed to be done in the blink of an eye, “Gotta say-- Joe Shuster was a little off-mark when it came to your costume.”
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I'd probably give myself away on anon, anyway, so screw it. Bekowsky has always been my favourite partner in the game, if not my favourite character, so I'm always happy to see blogs and content of him around. I'm sure you know how much I love all your blogs, even the ones I don't know the fandoms of, and this one is no different. I think you're definitely on point with a lot of your portrayal of this guy and I'm really glad we both dragged each other into making blogs for these characters. <3
Anonymously tell me what you think of my character portrayal.
Thank you so, so much, buddy. You have always had my back and I’m so grateful for that. Doing this together with you sometime last year was definitely one of the best choices I have made. To meet with such an amazing person that loves LA Noire just as much as I do... I really am grateful for you, bud. It’s an honor to have you as an RP partner and to have you as one of my bestest friends. And I’m glad you think I’m doing alright with him, I-I will keep trying my best with him... <3
@prcfiteering
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Anonymously tell me what you think of my character portrayal.
#(I... think I wrote quite a little on here to ask for a little feedback...)#(I'm just filled with a lot of negativity and doubts right now and... idk)
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[[ @shrillringing Continued from Here ]]
This was frustrating, to say the least. The last place she wanted to be, if anywhere. It was an odd feeling, not wanting to be there but not sure if she wanted to be anywhere anymore. Still, the room was clean, the air smelling of papers and wood, ten times better than the rot she had been used to smelling. It was comforting, unfamiliar. Zoe heard the question, her eyes blinking tiredly at the detective, but didn’t really reply all too quickly. She actually wasn’t too sure how to answer his question, if these people would even believe her.
Zoe didn’t want to talk about this. She never wanted to talk about this and wouldn’t, if she could help it. Still, they dragged her down here, she doubted they’d let her go if she didn’t at least talk a little bit.
Shit…
“I, uh…I don’t remember the date,” she said, crossing her arms as she looked down at the table in front of her in thought, trying to explain it without visualizing it too much. “It was durin’ the aftermath of the hurricane, or what was said to be…my daddy had went out into the bayou with my brother and found Mia, then…the girl shortly after they got her settled into my trailer. It all happened so fast after that, my mama first…”
A SIMPLE ENOUGH QUESTION that would only bring about so many more questions-- as always. An assuring fact that it was a sign that they were being led down in the right direction from there. A long road that would of course take many turns to get there, but paved with the possibility of a BIG REVELATION to finally close the book on it all.
FOR ALL THAT SHE HAD SEEN and experienced, they themselves were supposedly fortunate for not coming across themselves. Even as the soft aroma of caffeine beans and sweeten milk wafted through the cool air, no one would ever truly feel comfortable in this room. The overall cleanliness of the room itself seemed unfamiliar to the woman-- and yet, she didn’t necessarily appear to mind it all that much, either.
Good enough, he had found himself thinking, “I’m sure we will get the chance to narrow it down from there, miss.” He added, watching as sunken eyes gave a few hard blinks before carrying on. Whether it was out of exhaustion, or the struggle to remember any of it-- or the struggle to try and not remember most of it, “... What happened so fast? What happened to your mother...?”
#[[ Modern Verse Threads ]]#shrillringing#(Something we talked about over the last few days has become months and I'm so sorry omg)
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[[ @hawkshvw Continued from Here ]]
Cole flipped through his notebook, mentally taking notes of what they just covered, looking between what he wrote down and what was reflected on the scene. The witness was already itching to leave. All evidence has been accounted for. He turned back to his partner and lightly shook his head. “No, I think that covers it.” he said before holding out the keys for Bekowsky to take from his hand. “Here, I think you know the way better. I’m still learning, after all.” Cole didn’t comment on it, but he could see how Stefan was basically gripping the edges of his seat while he was in the driver’s seat.
“Spoken like a true protege, my friend.” Quick was he to spare the other the slightest grin, as he then reached out for those keys. Right, the very keys that he will make certain will keep them ALIVE for another day. If some gun wielding maniac (Not that it ever really came to that, no, it wasn’t as often as one might think when one worked the Traffic desk) didn’t get them first during this case, that is. Lightly gesturing to the other to get in, Stefan slipped back into his rightful place-- the driver’s seat. Oh, how glad were these two to be reunited, once more, “Right, so, where we heading, again?”
#Nah I heard the overly dramatic music cue and that was enough to come on over#He doesn't even seem to show remorse and that gets me about him and his awful driving aeuwaueha!!!#He's like that angry Goofy cartoon short tbh.#hawkshvw#[[ Main Verse Threads ]]
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[[ ??? ]]
starter call / @meritoriousenforcer
“You look…. familiar.” he said as he stared at what would essentially be his goddamned mirror image in front of him. He wasn’t at his usual haunt but deciding to call it a day after a wild goose chase, Stefan decided to crash at the nearest bar to relieve the pounding headache he’s been dealing with all day. A headache that was about to get worse as he stared straight at his own twin.
“…Were we separated at birth or something?”
GOING SO FAR AS to raise a single hand and slowly wave it in front of the other in a circular motion (Just to see if his mirror image would follow), silence was quickly broken, the moment the OTHER had spoken up.
A small JOLT on his part (For reflections were normally silent), to which he quickly tried shrugging off with another sip of his drink. Too late on regarding that action as a bad idea-- here’s hoping some alien doesn’t actually come out from that PLAID SUIT and abduct him, right there. This was so much like one of those covers of ‘ANALOG SCIENCE FICTION AND--” whatever the rest of that magazine was called. The covers would often get his attention as he passed by the newsstands, but never enough that he would purchase a copy of one of them, just yet.
“... Doesn’t really explain the fact that we share the same taste in clothing though, does it? Or, is that how the twin thing works?” This had to be a dream, after a hard day’s work and an evening of drinking. Maybe he had already gone on home, and really was just dreaming this all up, “... What’s your name, kid?”
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❛ I don’t even know what that statement means. ❜
` ° * ✧ ° RANDOM SENTENCE STARTERS PT 2.
Accepting!
EXPRESSED EVEN MORE HALFHEARTEDLY (For no effort could be put into anything else other than that wardrobe of his, he supposed) than a little candy heart sawn by a hammer. He had barely begun to spare the other a glance, as loud as that remark was– with a deadpan obnoxiousness that could give even a 30 year old phone operator a run for her money.
Ending it all before it even all began.
It hadn’t necessarily been GIBBERISH, to say the least. Even when he had given it a quick read over of his own (Half his attention already taken with a mental eye roll). Lips almost having second thoughts on giving the quirk it had initially planned, before it came in full force, with a seemingly friendly raise of his hands into the air.
“And that’s why we have partners, right? I’m sure Phelps will fill you in if you ask him nicely enough about it.”
@prcfiteering ♥
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❛ I just wanted to have a good time but no, you couldn’t let me, could you? ❜
` ° * ✧ ° RANDOM SENTENCE STARTERS PT 2.
Accepting!
“So, what are we, an old married couple, now?”
YOU’RE… GETTING A LITTLE ON THE WHINY SIDE THERE, friend. And god dammit, would you actually let him explain what the hell just happened, then?
It was clear that both their patience were wearing THIN, that very night. And for several reasons, to say the least. With Mister PARTY MAN here thinking that his big moment had been ruined, once the undercover detective had placed open arrest on his ‘new friends’. And with said detective now nursing a few bruises on his face and sides from a tussle with more than a handful of uncooperative folks, even when BACKUP had been there with him.
With a convoluted mixture of AMUSEMENT (For how could he ever forget seeing the guy flailing about on the dance floor, when he had first stepped through those doors? Stefan had nearly blown his own cover, right then) and MILD ANNOYANCE (Because give the guy a break, Rhys!) twisting its way onto his features, Stefan briefly ran his hand over his face with a sigh.
Look, Rhys, you are a good guy, and he can see that. But, sometimes… that DESPERATION NEED to be a little more than who you already tends to get the best of you, doesn’t it?
“Look, Rhys, you would have been placed under arrest and thrown in the slammer right then with the whole lot of them. Others nearly put you down as an accomplice if I hadn’t persuaded them otherwise…” Exhaling a deep sigh, Stefan stared down to one of those glow in the dark cocktails that littered the bar table then, “Anyways, ‘never really expected you to be the clubbing sort of guy…” Truth be told, he seemed more like the kind that would sit back in a lazy boy and have a cat nap in his lap on his nights off, “… Your colleagues dragged you down here, didn’t they?”
@stealhisdeal ♥
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❛ Why did you come? ❜
` ° * ✧ ° RANDOM SENTENCE STARTERS PT 2.
Accepting!
“Heh, I’m happy to see you too, kid.”
LIGHT TEASING ASIDE (In an admittedly exhausted manner to lighten the mood), Stefan had already begun to kneel himself down before her. Revolver long since shoved back into its holster, his rusty axe had also been set down to the side, once he was sure that the very last of those WALKERS in the area had been dealt with. Once he was sure that it had truly been safe for her to come on out from her hiding place.
“You alright, there?” The man had nearly chuckled then, upon realizing how he was checking her over once more in exactly the same fashion as when they had first met. And, the same sigh of relief would make its way past chapped lips, once he had confirmed that she was completely UNSCATHED. Understandably wary, but at least she still had the strength to stand on her own two feet, at that very moment.
IT WAS EVERY MAN FOR HIMSELF, to put it simply. Especially when it came to those HORDES. Luck wasn’t normally on the side of most that would still cling onto their sympathy for others... What fool would have even come back to a now ruined camp? To have seen the SMOKE, believed to have heard the gunshots and screams of horror in the distance... What were the chances of him going back there to save at least ONE SOUL, if not himself?
He had done what he had promised in the first place, done more than any STRANGER should have for another STRANGER, really. And brought her to that camp to reunite with her FAMILY. Informing her then that he was planning to head off in the opposite direction after that, believing that the people of the vicinity would be more than glad to take over the RESPONSIBILITY of finding the child’s relatives. Obviously, they would have known the area far better than he ever could, and would have found them in no time-- if they had been there, that is.
For now, she was fine, they were fine. The two of them still needed to properly gather themselves before planning their next course of action. Were there other survivors hiding around the now ruined camp? She couldn’t be the only one left behind, right?
“Hey... Even if the world’s changed since then, that’s not gonna stop me from serving and protecting the innocent, y’know?”
@dcadcassette ♥
#dcadcassette#[[ A little Bird Told Me ;; Asks ]]#[[ Walking Dead Verse Threads ]]#(He her detective dad yes)#(No stopping this)
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☂ picking them up
SEND A SYMBOL FOR MY MUSE’S REACTION TO YOURS: || Still accepting!
☂ picking them up
At the moment, he was a little too far gone to realize that nobody else in their group was even as remotely drunk as he was. Granted, he wasn’t so drunk as to cause too much of a scene, but it was enough that what fun he found in the situation, as little as that was, was starting to run thin. Roy knew that he wasn’t wanted there, he had to invite himself to these things if he wasn’t the one doing the inviting.
Usually was the one buying, too. Buy your fellow officers a drink, Roy. Keep that prideful little look on Cole’s face, Roy. He did all the work on this damn case, anyway, Roy.
This time, however, he hadn’t spent a dime and invited himself upon overhearing some evening plans among some other officers. Roy could say he was being well behaved, though sobriety may tell a different story the next day, but at the moment he just wanted to get home. He hated the bar the moment he stepped into it, hated the way Stefan had seemed to take it upon himself to keep between him and some of the other cops, especially once he started inserting himself into the conversations near the end of the night.
There was a reason he wasn’t invited to these things.
Feeling his hands on his shoulders as he guided him outside, however, had him wanting to knock him one. His pride was begging for it. Yet, he knew that Stefan may have been his only ticket back home at the moment.
It took a couple tries before he found what he was looking for, the keys jingling slightly as he nearly dropped them as he was pulling them out of his pocket before he turned and shoved them into Stefan’s chest.
He felt groggy and a little pissed off, knowing more of the drinking would have made the latter worse, but he still managed to sound coherent in his statement as he raised a finger towards him.
“Count on this being the only time, Bekowsky,” he said, his drunkenness showing through the pronunciation of his surname, “You scratch my car, I’ll do worse to your face. I just got done letting Cole drive it for the week.”
#(Lol it sorta counts 8)))))#(Omg Maddie spoiling me half an hour just before I get off work with these!!!)#[[ Hollywood Cop ;; Roy Earle ]]
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“Dear Leesers, I was wondering if I could request an L.A Noire piece? I would just LOVE to see them in your style! Any of the following characters would be great: Cole Phelps, Stefan Bekowsky, Roy Earle, Rusty Galloway, Herschel Biggs or Jack Kelso.” -anon
#(So I actually sent this request a couple of years back)#(I love this girl's work so much)#prcfiteering#ofccurage#[[ The Golden Boy ;; Cole Phelps ]]#[[ The Social Basket Case ;; Herschel Biggs ]]#[[ Hollywood Cop ;; Roy Earle ]]#[[ Everybody's Favourite Pole ;; Stefan Bekowsky ]]#[[ Finbarr ;; Rusty Galloway ]]#[[ Former Marine ;; Jack Kelso ]]
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WHAT IS YOUR ARCHETYPE?
from here. repost, don’t reblog !
tagged by: @prcfiteering (Tysm for this boo <333)
your archetype is the realist.
traits: practical, understanding, honest, brutal, logical, creator, intelligent, sensible, down-to-earth, reasonable
the realist is most commonly used to symbolize the highest possible outcome in a dire situation. they are the ones who have everything planned, and hand out reality checks as if they were pamphlets to those who need them--which, quite honestly, is everyone who isn't a realist. although they can be harsh (brutal truth over merciful), they are nurturers and care more than they let on. realists tend to do things that will lead to the best outcome, and use their knowledge of reading people to manipulate situations and problems in order to get out of a rock and a hard place.
fictional characters that are realists: hermione granger, dana scully, thorin oakenshield, lestrade (from sherlock), leia organa, willow rosenberg
other personality types that go with this: ravenclaw, horned serpent, poseidon, artemis
#(This isn't... too off actually? I'm so happy)#[[ As High As The Last Glass of Whisky ;; Headcanons ]]
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[[ @dcadcassette Continued from Here ]]
What was he talking about? Mari wasn’t too sure, the expression on her face echoing that confusion as she tried to quickly scrub at her eyes that were burning with tears that had yet to be shed. She was seriously confused, way before this man started talking to her, but she tried to keep a strong face, despite everything. In light of that, she still found herself admitting pretty easily to her next statement.
“I’m scared,” she returned, “It feels weird. I’m really warm but cold, I’m really tired and it feels like I’m going to fall over if I stand—and- and I lost my family. I don’t know where they are anymore and…I’m scared. That’s how it feels.”
She paused, looking away before she looked back over at him, a look of alarm crossing her face.
“I’m not…I didn’t get bit, I promise.”
It was really something to be DEEPLY ADMIRED, a kid her age staying this brave, especially through all of this. It would have been regarded as a TWISTED BLESSING, if a kid were to be born AFTER the OUTBREAK had begun. To be raised and to be made to believe that getting through all of this EVER SINGLE DAY was but the NORM OF LIFE ITSELF. But, from what it seemed, she wasn’t one of those.
“Hey, it’s alright...” A little HALF TRUTH, right there, “It’s alright to be afraid.” He went on, and with just a little caution, reached out to her hands. “Just take a few deep breaths, it will help, I promise, kid.” She seemed small enough to carry on back if needed to, especially if her legs weren’t cooperating with her, right then. It was then did eyes narrow for that brief moment as he looked over exposed wrists and forearms... before an ASSURING GAZE raised to meet hers.
“Heh, looks to me like that little SCRAPE on your palm is all that we need to worry about... Anyway, you sure you can’t stand? I’m not making any real promises here, but, I might know where your family might have wounded up.”
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