never give up @castleporthudson - Tumblr Blog

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First day back in Castleport after spending a week in Boston. Gotta admit, I miss that place, but it’s good to be back. If anyone needs me, I’ll be at the office all day. Got a lot of stuff to go through and catchup on.

#cportstarter

inkedsevans‌

You can either come with or expect a letter delivered every three months by a friendly owl. It’s gonna take me some time to train it, though. Gimme like a year. I guess while I wait, I can hit you up for a refill…although they’re not gonna believe spilled coffee’s a legit emergency, right?

Dude, I’m gonna come with. I had enough letter writing and reading while I was in the military and I’m done with that game. I still want a friendly owl, though. You’re talking about cops... we live on coffee. If anyone is gonna understand that it’s an emergency, we’re your guys.

#interaction: sam.#interaction: all.

inkedsevans‌

I dropped my coffee this morning and it feels like that’s an omen for the rest of the week. The only thing keeping me from starting my life in some remote cabin somewhere off the grid is managing to save my cinnamon roll from hitting the ground too. This month’s on thin ice.

C’mon, Sammy. You wouldn’t just leave me like that, would you? If you needed a coffee, you shoulda just called me. I’ll use any excuse to get outta the department, and I’m pretty sure spilled coffee is a good one. That’s the kinda emergency I wanna come out on.

#interaction: sam.#interaction: all.

goldenchildlynn‌

So crazy Eli is gonna retire after this season, but it’s an honor to play with him in his last season. Dude has a fuck ton of wisdom and pointers, but the game won’t be the same without his spirit. On a lighter note, I apparently just got a deal with postmates for free deliveries for life so…must use that power for good and not for gaining midnight ice cream weight. It’s an uphill battle, but I intended on beating it.

I don’t think it’d be good for me to have free delivery for life. I’d never leave my apartment or the office. I could just get whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted it, no extra charge.

#interaction: ryder.#interaction: all.

snixxem‌

The silence removed the kid gloves, and handed her the stage to make a fool of herself with. Every movement felt like she was playing into the guilty performance they wanted. Santana filtered every thought through the lens of the detectives. Was folding her hands the sign of someone guilty?; was breathing too hard bad?; were her eyes too wide, was she talking too fast before - or was it slow? How does an innocent person, who now feels guilty despite not being guilty, act innocent?

She crossed her legs, then her arms to soon uncross them and try to casually pick up the diary entries she had set on the table previously. Just one more look; make sure she was reading things right:

‘I’m glad that wasn’t in-person, who knows what she would have done to me if it was. It’s not the first time I felt in danger when around Santana. She has earned the nickname of Satan, and rightfully so. I really thought she had grown-up since high school. Maybe even matured, but she’s still the same old mean girl, just stronger.‘

Finn’s next questions snapped her out of her demise. “I don’t know,” she spat at him, glancing at the sketches and pushing them away, “those are from years ago, like 2016.” Santana crossed her arms and glared at him, “I have the emails of my agent cussing me out for losing them the morning I was suppose to show them to a potential client that fell through.” Her eyes drifted him back to the double-sided mirror, “so, if you’re trying to pin this crap on me, move on.”

Maybe this was exactly where they needed to be, in some twisted, detective-thought formed way. At least if they were there, everything that was said would be remembered. Not that he often forgot what was shared between them, but somehow ending up in bed never failed to happened between them. At least here, he could attempt to focus on the job at hand.

“The last line,” he hummed, head nodding toward the paper. “What do you think she was referring to when she said ‘she’s still the same old mean girl,’ because that almost sounds like she’s talking a little more recent than 2016.” If he pushed too hard and pushed her away, he was quite certain that he’d never forgive himself. It would’ve been just another thing loss due to the case and damn, was he tired of losing. “No one said anything about pinning this on you. I just wanted to ask you a few questions while I had you in front of me. Figured it was better than bringing you back down later,” he lied, arms crossing over his chest.

“Did you have any contact with Rachel before she disappeared? Did you two get into a fight?” He already knew the answer, yet formally, he knew almost nothing. The last thing he needed was for the department to think he was covering for anyone. “Why do you think she would’ve kept those drawings all this time?”

#interaction: santana.#interaction: all.

inkedsevans‌

Far as bad habits go, that one’s probably not too bad. But a heavy caseload and crappy coffee? That’s just terrible. You’d think that’s one of the things the dept wouldn’t scrimp on. Yeah. I mean, I hate to say it ‘but whoever I get still isn’t Quinn. But they’re good for now. We gotta face it. But hey, least you’re not busting out the muscle rub just yet.

How it’s turning out, you mean group breakfasts at Finn’s place. It only took a few years but those ‘you’ll see when you’re older’ lessons stuck with us. Shoutout to Ms. Carole. Jury’s still out on wiser, but we have stepped our waffle game up and that’s a big moment. Might be speaking for myself. You’re way more responsible.

It should be against the law to serve such bad coffee. Maybe I don’t like it because it’s so strong, but whatever the reason, it’s still terrible. Is there anyone as good as her? You should hear how my mom talks about her. Yet. Keyword.

Sometimes I miss it, but I think we’re all better now. I don’t think I would’ve like high school me if I had to meet him today. Then again, I don’t think any of us would be cool with how we used to be. Hey man, I was thinking. If you get a free chance, maybe we can have a jam session at my place or something? Like old times?

#interaction: sam.#interaction: all.

text message 🔁 finntana [9.19.20]

tana: it should be. At least make it a part-time gig to make decisions based on your well-being.

tana: control freaks like a submissive type...and well, when it comes to you and leadership....

tana: slap a collar on you and call you #1 sub.

tana: BUT what they don’t know is that you’re really smart. so let them think what they want and you do your thing.

tana: see, that’s smart and something everyone else would have gave up on at the first whiff of it being a dead end.

[....]

tana: do you think they’ll try to pin it on me?

finn: i'm doing better.

finn: i don't like to back down.

[...]

finn: i miss you. i'm sorry about all that crap.

finn: we just have to wait and see. i don't think they're seriously looking at you.

#text message: all.#text message: santana.

snixxem‌

Santana looked at Finn, eyes narrowed and pensive as she looked between him and the stack of files. A moment of vulnerability, until she remembered her place boxed in the stripped down, muted walls of the interrogation room that complimented Detective Hudson’s no-nonsense approach. Right - this wasn’t the time for voiceless pleas for help. So she took comfort elsewhere: Snixx.

She snatched the sheets of paper off the table and sat back in her chair. It was their old text, “we fought,” she sneered, “as you should know, ‘09 alumni, Rachel and I tended to do that.” She flung the papers to the side so they flung in the air and eventually fell to the floor. She was just powering through burrowing herself away in her angry place. Small pipes of ‘lawyer’, ‘why did this matter?’, ‘don’t act weird,’ kept colliding into one another. She was shaking, which brought her attention back to the words. “What is this?” she mumbled, squinting as she scanned the words - quickly, but not enough that she couldn’t comprehend them. “Diary entries?” She asked as she continued to read. Her fingers gripped the papers as she read Rachel’s victimization sprawled out in her dainty writing. “So, what? Rachel and I got in a fight and as usual she made a point to make it all about herself….and…,” she finished a passage insinuating she was ‘afraid’, which Santana’s mind reminded her, in the context of her now being dead, had a daunting tone to it now. “…dramatic as ever. We said our usual spiel, so what?”

All of it looked bad, really bad, but wasn’t that the point? Make the person in question believe they’d slipped up in order to maybe get a confession, truthful or not. He recalled all his lessons on interrogation, most of which he’d learned as a Ranger. Don’t give up, keep pushing, and play mind games. It’d always been his weakness, the interrogation part, because he didn’t understand the need to play bad cop. He was the good guy, caring, big hearted, and trustful of those who he spoke with. Just like he was with Santana; he trusted her, even in her mouthy state of fear, he trusted the words she spewed. It didn’t matter what he trusted though, all that mattered was that his superiors were pleased with his work. She’d understand, right?

“The big question is this, miss Lopez,” he trailed off, jaw clenching as he stared back at her. “Why were you sketches found in Rachel’s car that night? We have these texts and her diary entries that tie you two together. Clearly not friends,” he added, swallowing hard. She knew about them finding the sketches and that her mother had hid them. She’d helped him find them, proving she had nothing to hide. “So, if you two weren’t friends, why were your sketches with her the night of her accident?” Doing his job sucked, but at least he had a chance of clearing her name if she’d just let him do his work and trust that he wouldn’t lead her astray.

#interaction: santana.#interaction: all.

text message 🔁 finntana [9.19.20]

tana: did you do anything for yourself along the way?

[....]

tana: whenever I said or implied you were stupid in high school, ya know, behind your back, it's because I was deflecting and these people are doing the same thing. if they only wear dirty sneakers and count Route 66 as fine dining, it's because it's easier to pick at you, then why they're useless.

tana: if we're 'blaming' you for anything, it's for having the idea to check on these things. you did good, I'm proud of you.

finn: it wasn't about me.

finn: i'm just tired of hearing the same insults everyday. i don't know why they put me in charge if they didn't think i could handle it. it's like they needed someone else to pin this all on.

finn: i sent a burner phone off to boston to a tech guy i used to work with. he said it might take some time, but he's going to see what he can find for me. i haven't told anyone yet. i didn't want it to get out until i knew if there was anything on there or not.

#text message: santana.#text message: all.

inkedsevans‌

Least not from your job. Unless you’ve got a thing for office supplies and I dunno, coffee stirrers. Or three wise men. He’s lucky I don’t feel like being a dick about it. But I think I might’ve found a solid replacement. 30′s bout to smack us in the face, might as well claim it. I get that. You’ve got good reasons to be back here, and a real purpose.

Are the waffles any better, though? I mean probably, if you throw in some fruit. Make it a balanced breakfast like those commercials talk about. But yeah, get the waffle maker. If you ever needed more proof of us getting old, we’re sitting here talking about cool kitchen appliances.

Don’t even get me started on their coffee supplies, man. I didn’t even drink coffee before I started working here. I didn’t even drink coffee in Boston, but I needed help pulling doubles. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with their coffee maker, but it tastes terrible. I’ve tried everything to make it better and it’s just... bad. As long as you’re covered, it’s all good. I don’t even wanna think about that right now. I feel old and I don’t think I like it.

Guess I could get one and see how it turns out. Gotta admit, my mom would be super proud of us right now. We’ve graduated from toasters to a whole waffle maker. Guess that means we’re getting wiser too, right?

#interaction: all.#interaction: sam.

text message 🔁 finntana [9.19.20]

tana: because you're an easy target to them. why do you care so much about their opinion? nothing you ever do will be good enough for them, and not because you're not good enough but because they're fucking idiots.

tana: you do it.

tana: the DNA isn't shit.

finn: i'm trying. i feel like my whole life, all i've done is try to be good. for myself. for everyone around me. i got called stupid my entire life. so, i wanted to make something of myself and even when i do, people still call me an idiot. i can't win.

finn: another thing that can be blamed on me for overlooking, right?

#text message: santana.#text message: all.

text message 🔁 finntana [9.19.20]

tana: no offense babe, but no one is impressed by your gpa, I'm thinking more like your military service and the whole boston cop, thing.

tana: so I'll take that as not tell you, then.

tana: I know, but that doesn't take away from it being a shit call, finn.

finn: that's what i'm saying though... why does what i did in high school even matter? i proved myself already. i don't get why that isn't good enough.

finn: don't do that.

finn: this whole thing is shit.

#text message: santana.#text message: all.

snixxem‌

“I had a key, I was drunk and Clarington properties looks like it could afford a heater and a couch for me to lie on.“ She saw the beginnings of a smirk that barely registered on his face; and for that moment her insides weren’t bubbling with nerves and an anger that consumed her, but a fleeting moment of humor. Santana sighed, just maybe she could throw him and the rejects behind the glass a bone. "I got bored and started looking around. It was dusty,” she shrugged, “I expected better house-cleaning with their deep-pockets.” She looked down at her nails, scanning the high peaks and pursing out her lips - casually defiant, but satisfied with the inch (or so she considered it) that she had given Finn.

"Maybe you can have Hunter tell you how he got the same things used to vandalize my photo at homecoming a couple years ago in the trunk of his car.” When she spoke she never looked at Finn, she looked at the glass. Her brown eyes bore into it, as if she could see through it and look into the eyes of the people she was directly disrespecting. “Or does having a lawyer that charges more than most of those chumps make weekly get you out from answering those questions?” She turned back to Finn, the tension that bubbled in the center of her eyebrows eased, “I was drunk, and did something stupid, what else do you need to know?”

Before he could respond the door swung open. She couldn’t see much with the door blocking her view, but Finn rose and mumbled a ‘I’ll be right back,’ and walked out with the stranger.

If he walked out without pushing, someone else would inevitably take his place in the interrogation room, and for her protection and partly his own, he had to stay. He watched in silent admiration as she explained herself, her humor never failing her, even in a moment as important as this one. “So, you had a key, got bored and decided to go looking around at the Clarington’s place,” he repeated, merely for the record to show he was following along with her story. A peck at the glass let him know that his attempt at making their interview short, sweet, and unrelated to Rachel, had failed. Whatever they wanted, it was bound to not be good for one of them.

As if on cue, the door swung open behind them, Finn muttering some words to her before the door closed behind him. It was only then that he was handed texts and diary excerpts, all putting Rachel and Santana’s names together. While no instruction was given, it was more than clear as to what they wanted from him, and that was for him to do his damn job. Nervous, Finn nodded and entered the room once more, tossing the sheets of paper onto the table between them before he took a seat. “Wanna explain what these things mean?” This wasn’t fair; this was an ambush, and why? Because they wanted to blame Santana for her mother’s failures? Or because a false lead was better than no lead? “Take your time.”

#interaction: all.#interaction: santana.

inkedsevans‌

It can’t get any worse than the kid who kept breaking glasses. I also think he was stealing bottles too, so yeah. Feel free to stop by whenever. All that just sounds like is we’re getting old, but I get ya. I didn’t think coming back here and handling this bar was happening but here I am. Def didn’t think you were leaving Boston tho.

Waffles are important, man. But that was a mess. This girl I used to talk to, she’d just moved into this new apartment. She mentions breakfast and having to look through the boxes for her waffle maker. And that kinda turned into me helping her unpack and move furniture around.

Some people are way braver than I am on that front. I don’t think I could ever actually steal something, y’know, Church decorations excluded. Us? Getting old? I don’t know how I feel about that. Boston was great, really, but I feel like I should be here. With the case and my mom, I think this is it for me.

Sounds like a pretty good deal. That’s something I need... a waffle maker? I could just make breakfast at home instead of stopping for doughnuts that definitely aren’t great for me.

#interaction: sam.#interaction: all.

text message 🔁 finntana [9.19.20]

tana: the reason people aren’t willing to help is because they’re pissed you got the case over some homegrown loser who doesn’t have your sort of background even in their dreams.

tana: I’m willing to help you, but some shit has to stay between us.

tana: maybe in the 1800’s, this is 2020, eat the rich and disrespect your elders.

tana: you know that was a shit call on their part.

finn: i'm tired of people talking about my gpa like it actually matters. that was high school. why can't we leave it at that?

finn: i get that, i do, but i'm also trying to do my job.

finn: i'm just trying to figure this whole thing out and keep everyone i care about safe.

#text message: all.#text message: santana.

text message 🔁 finntana [9.19.20]

tana: I’m talking about over text, Finn.

tana: I did. I told you I was there snooping, and I explained my sketches. I have the emails with the manager. Shits full-proof.

tana: they’re going to publicly clear my name about the Rachel cross-over, right?

tana: saying my name like that without the high-rise eyebrows won’t work. I trust you, I don’t trust the fucks behind the mirror.

tana: great. And are you going to question why this superior asked you to go in of all people? And why my name and half-assed info connecting me to the case leaked? Or does reading ‘superior’ gonna be all it takes for you to not ask questions?

finn: fuck.

finn: i don't know what i'm doing. i'm in over my head, but i can't say that. i can't let everyone who's doubted me know that they were right.

finn: i'm trying to keep my head on straight here, which is pretty freaking hard. no one believes in me, which means no one is willing to help on the case.

finn: they sent me because i got named lead. they were being assholes about it, but that's my job. i don't get to question those above me. it's not how leadership works.

#text message: santana.#text message: all.

text message 🔁 finntana [9.19.20]

tana: no, i was hoping not, but the ‘you tell me’ had this pig-ish tone to it.

tana: people are asking me if I know something about Rachel, my fucking name is literally right next to this case right now.

[....]

tana: can I tell you what happened and it stays between us.

tana: who sent you in there?

finn: what did you expect? i was doing my job.

finn: which is why i was trying to clear your name by getting you to tell me what happened.

finn: santana...

finn: a superior.

#interaction: santana.#interaction: all.

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