tony malone.

[gumshoetm]

𝗴𝘂𝗺𝘀𝗵𝗼𝗲𝘁𝗺 ⸻ a private retelling of 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙚 within the group of @gonighthawks. please do not follow/interact if not in the group.

will follow from @hatchetdogs.

dossier. aesthetics. musings. headcanons.

[ensembletm]

hailey wishes she didn't feel so insecure , but it's all so deeply rooted within her. at least she knows tony won't judge her -- but also won't lie. maybe soften some blows , but he'll tell her what's what. she looks at him now , hands still together , but slowing as she listens. nods. " yeah , i guess you're right , " she offers him a sorta weak smile. for all the shit she gives him , it’s mostly in good fun. in reality , she admires that her brother is following his own path and doing what brings him… joy ? does theater bring her joy ?

" it's just--“ she starts , but feels that usual uncertainty “ no it's stupid. " for a moment she just pouts , tucking her hands under her thigh. then , because she can’t not make things worse , the words seem to bubble up of their own accord. “ what if they’re right ? about me , i mean. it’s not like any of my work has paid off. professor hidgens hates me. no , that’s not right. to hate me would mean he thinks strongly about me at all. i’m like a flea , and not just to him. to all of them ! ”

[gumshoetm]

He frowns as she starts, eyes softening in expression. He almost tells her that it isn't stupid, but before he can she's speaking up again. what if they're right? His shoulders deflate and a frown touches his features. He wants to cut her off and tell her not to think like that, but she keeps going and it just tugs at his heart. He pauses the way he'd been rubbing his hands together and drops them to bottom of the wheel. He sighs as she mentions the kooky eccentric professor. Malone has had the pleasure of meeting him both professionally and not so professionally. Both were telling in their own ways.

"Hey, Hai-Bear?" He says it quietly, trying to poke holes into her frustrations with a nickname he'd had for years for her, "They don't get it and that's not on you to solve for." He frowns, tilting his head trying to angle to where he was obviously trying to get her to look at him, "You find joy in it despite the hardships of it." Pause, "I think you're incredibly talented, I do. I think this place... Hatchetfield? I think it makes us all feel like fleas at times, but this isn't the end all of it, you know? There's more than just this town."

[ensembletm]

thank god he hadn't left already. tony doesn't have to tell her twice , hailey practically runs over to the passenger seat , slamming the door shut as fast as humanly possible. the heat hasn't done much yet , but it's enough to be shielded from the winter wind. " thanks , you're a real lifesaver , " she smiles over at her brother , rubbing her hands together to try and get some warmth back in them. however , her smile fades at his question. " she must have forgot , " her eyes are looking straight ahead as she shrugs. that weird , noodling feeling in her gut is back. different from the other feeling she often gets in her gut , but no less persistent. for a moment , she's quiet. then , softly , she asks , " do you think the dinner went okay ? "

[gumshoetm]

Malone doesn't press when she mentions her roommate must've forgot, instead focusing on rubbing his hands together and keeping warm. He'd start driving in a moment, just needs to give the car a minute to debate whether it wants to stay running. It's when Hailey asks her question that Malone pauses more, hesitating at how to go about answering it. The truth: yes, it went okay. But that was it. Okay. It wasn't grand it wasn't exciting, but it was okay. Their mother listened, but their father and their nona seemed to have thoughts neither were fully sharing. Their father had made some crack about her following some pipe dream and Malone had to bite his tongue from telling him all dreams are that. Malone's was and sure he was living out of his car, but he was making decent money and staying busy. It was a seedy business, but it was doing him good.

"I think it went alright, Hail," he says gently, honestly with a small shrug of his shoulders, "I think we're both under fire right now for doing what we want to do. It'll never be Pasqualli's at its height like the old man wants us to worry about. He wants us elbow deep in that place and neither of us wanna server pasta for the rest of our lives."

[workinboystm]

It's hard to not feel ridiculous. Years ago, Henry promised he'd put it to rest. That, if Chad wanted him to know where he was, he would've said something by now. He knows he's not responsible for what happened that day -- how could he be -- and he doesn't fault the other man for wanting to get away from this town after the dust settled. Still, it doesn't take the sting away.

As he pushes the door to Pasqualli's open, Henry looks around, only needing a moment before his eyes settle on the man known as Malone. It's not like Henry to hire a private investigator. It's not like him to actively seek someone out who doesn't want anything to do with him. Perhaps it was the time of year -- the winter made him feel particularly lonely, and while he could normally push that feeling down, this year felt a little worse than others.

He's silent, the folder in front of him startling empty save for a business card. His eyes are wide -- that is Chad -- and his fingers move to pick it up. He's delicate with it, afraid to stain or bend it. "How do you know?" He asks, voice uncharacteristically soft. "H-how do you know that this is... the Chad?" His eyes flit across the small piece of paper, looking for some sort of website address. "Did you -- have you called them?"

[gumshoetm]

He scoffs a little, light and humorous. He shakes his head as he reaches out, gently plucking the card from Henry's hand before settling back into his seat. He points with his index of his opposite hand at the name on the card, "I'm a professional, Mr. Hidgens, ain't nothing I don't do without making sure I have facts before sharin' 'em." He shifts his finger to point at the full name, "Chad Middleton. Now I know that isn't the name you gave me, but I can guarantee that it's the same guy. I was able to track down business records that dated back to the late nineties where this guy suddenly came to exist. No prior records of him existing before this. Bit sketchy, yeah?"

He turns the card to look at it, squinting as he reads some of the finer print. He probably needs glasses, but that's not the point right now, "This guy suddenly popped up in databases around then, but there's no medical records indicating his birth. Just this or that claiming he's real, but as real as he is-- his name isn't outside the obvious first name." He holds the card back out to Henry, "I haven't called yet, but I don't need to. I have further proof this is your guy."

[lexsboyfriendtm-deactivated2026]

who: ethan & malone (@gumshoetm) where: outside green's body shop

he can't help the low whistle that escapes his lips as he takes a step back from malone's car. not that ethan can really judge him for the state of it-- it's not even in bad condition... just needs a little tune-up, that's all. but he can't imagine living in it nearly every day, like malone does.

"y'know..." ethan starts, with a seriousness that's supposed to be more teasing than anything as he glances over at the other, his hand lifting to rest on the top of the car. "my old man's got a spare bedroom since i've moved out. my back's killin' me just looking at this thing."

[gumshoetm]

Malone's had his car since the moment he turned sixteen-- a 1990 Pontiac Sunbird GT Turbo , white with a dark grey interior. He loved the car, but it was certainly aged and certainly well loved. He took care of it well enough, but when you live out of your car it becomes clear that it's yours. Sure, yeah, it wasn't as filled as it could be with the fact he has a storage unit of stuff (mostly clothes,) but it was pretty damn clear it was his home. Again, he did his best to keep it clean and maintained... but there were pillows in the back and a few blankets. He often times didn't care to fold them up and make them pretty either-- something he hadn't considered doing today when he brought it in for a tune up.

His cousin, Ethan, was always good to him and his car. They were both owners of jalopies. Though... he was pretty sure his was less jalopy and more put together, but he wouldn't say that out loud. Couldn't fight who had a better car when his was his home-- something about that felt a bit unfair. He knew that the other had good intentions with what he was about to say, but he can't help the way he rolls his eyes and shakes his head, "Nah, I couldn't do that to him. Two Tonys under one roof? Y're just askin' for the trouble," he snickers only to let it fade so he can speak more on it, "I appreciate ya sayin' that and offerin', but I don't mind it. Bit cold in the winter, but nothin' some blankets and a sweater can't fix. Not to mention I've been busy enough to afford a room at No Tell every so often."

[authorizedtm]

He's late. John tries not to let that color his first impressions of @gumshoetm, but it sticks in his mind as the clock on the wall ticks steadily over from 5:02 to 5:03. It isn't by much, but time is something to be respected. Worrying the business card between his thumb and forefinger, tapping it against the table top as he questions his instincts once again. Glances around the nearly empty Birdhouse, he knows it's too early for most to be here. Still no sign of Gina having materialized, but he's overly cautious. The entire operation treads the moral line with more delicacy than he wants to admit as he takes a swig of his bourbon. It's too early for that too, but it steels the will to do what needs to be done. Or at least, what he thinks is necessary.

When the door of the bar opens, he stops the incessant tapping of the card stock setting it face down on the wood. "Mr. Malone." John doesn't need an introduction, he's done his own research, knows well enough exactly what face he's been searching for. You're late. He almost admonishes him, but refrains from it. This is not one of his soldiers, and what he's asking requires both discretion and civility. Starting on a hostile note doesn't help either of them, and while. diplomacy has never been John's strongest virtue, he attempts it all the while. He outstretches his hand to the investigator. "John MacNamara. Thank you for meeting me."

[gumshoetm]

He is late, but not by much. Not enough for him to even really notice it when he wandered into the Birdhouse looking for his contact. He had a feeling he'd be able to spot the guy based on the way he spoke and introduced himself on the phone. General John MacNamara. A military guy. Not that surprising seeing as he'd just met a Lieutenant the other night. He'd only gotten her first name and number, but he was curious to know if more were lingering about. What kind of military presence was there in Hatchetfield? Was there reason for concern? Reason to ask questions? He wasn't sure, but he was a curious guy by nature and it was hard not to have those questions at the forefront of his mind. This was a business meeting, not a leisure thing. He had to hold himself to a certain degree and appear as put together as possible. A professional.

Malone steps up to the table with a crooked grin, hand outstretching to meet the other's. He lets the man introduce himself and the investigator gives a nod, "Please to meet ya, John-- mind if I call you John? Or would you prefer General?" He's teasing and it shows with the small chuckle that leaves him as he shifts to sit on the chair for the table MacNamara's chosen. He settles into it and reaches into the his fanny pack at his front once good, reaching in and pulling out a little metal tube that he pops open to retrieve a toothpick from. He closes the tube up and places it back in the pack before placing the toothpick in his mouth, instantly rolling it from one side of his mouth to the other.

[ensembletm]

who: hailey & tony ( @gumshoetm ) where: outside the malone family' home

hailey squints through the darkness , straining to see if any car slows and turns into the drive-way. she's been waiting for , well , a while and even in her gloves , her fingers are beginning to freeze. okay sure , martha hadn't ever confirmed that she would pick hailey up from dinner , but she also hadn't said she wouldn't. rocking back and forth on her heels , she tries to ignore the little voice in her head calling her a total idiot for assuming that anyone martha would give enough of a crap about her to do her a favor. she knows that she could always go back into the house and crash with her parents , just like she knows her dad would drive her home in the morning. but there was something so... embarrassing about that. like an ultimate defeat. there is , of course , always the other option. swallowing what little pride she has left , hailey's eyes dart towards her brother's car. what the heck ?

" hey tone ! wait up-- " she runs up to the vehicle , waving her half-frozen hands through the cold winter air. even if she isn't thrilled about the reputation he's gained through his work , anything's better than running home to mommy and daddy just because her friend flaked ( what is she ? 12 ? ). she scrunches her face against the cold and taps on the window. " i think i need a ride back to the apartment. "

[gumshoetm]

Dinner was great. Sunday nights with the Malones was always a good one even if their father had a choice few things to say about Tony's profession. He knew it wasn't the most honest work and was down right dirty with the way he sneaked about, but... he was good at. He had an income, had a steady flow of clients, and a real sense of who he was despite what anyone else might say. He was glad at whatever point it was when the conversation flipped from Tony to Hailey, asking about her job and her roommates. He listened quietly as he scooped food into his mouth, eyes flicking to his sister every so often then over to where their Nona was watching with harsh intent. He wondered if Hailey had told them yet about her stage name situation, but he doesn't bring it up. He's not an asshole. He just spoke when he needed to and felt it was necessary, otherwise he let Hailey stand in the figurative spotlight with their parents. When dinner concluded he said his goodbyes to everyone before venturing out into the cold to get to his car, immediately crawling in to get it going so it would warm up.

He was rubbing his hands together in their gloved state when he heard the muffled sound of Hailey calling to him. He turned his head just as she stepped up to tap at his window. He rolled it down just a bit to catch what she was saying before giving a quick nod, "Yeah, yeah. Get in before you freeze." He brought the window back and reached for his car's heater settings. It would take a minute for it to actually start feeling warm, but he was confident it'd be fine soon enough. As soon as Hailey was settled in the passenger seat he gave her a tentative, almost pitiful grin, "Roommate bail on ya?"

[refugetm]

gina had only been in hatchetfield for a couple of days now. the birdhouse seemed to be the place that drew her in the most, much as it had what felt like a lifetime ago. memories filtered through the air here. a young, bright eyed private who was swooning over the older colonel in a booth. wandering hands that were a risk amongst their peers. sneaking out the door by the bathrooms to get lost in each other. she blinked herself out of those memories and burned them away with amber liquid.

she didn't love wilbur cross anymore. for all she knew, he was dead and lost to whatever was on the other side of that portal. but those memories still lived somewhere inside of her head, in a deep corner where that hopeful girl was curled up in behind layers and layers of scar tissue. that corner was safe, she had learned at a very young age. the monsters that she had faced her entire life couldn't get her there.

a voice pulled her out of her thoughts as a guy with long hair and a bucket hat sidled up to the empty seat beside her. her eyebrow quirked at the opening line, the words climbing up her throat of where he can shove that sort of entry.

" i'm drinking a whiskey ginger, " she replied bluntly. " and yes, i would like a refill if you're buying and want to skip the pleasantries. "

[gumshoetm]

i'm drinking a whiskey ginger.

The blunt response gives him some pause, blinking at her as she continues with saying she would like a refill. She mentioned the pleasantries of it all and he blinks again. Confusion hits his features momentarily before he realizes what the push of it could mean. He feels his stomach flutter to life with a warmth that only butterflies of eagerness could create. It makes him smile slowly, that coy smirk he'd been trying to play into now something a little more confident as he pieces together that this could work in his favor. Now, mind you, he wasn't generally a one and done or hit and run if you will. Call him a lover boy at heart, but he enjoyed the post-sex cuddles and/or the sleeping next to one another that could follow. Malone craved that human affection even if he acted like he didn't mind the lonely, busy life of a private investigator.

"Whiskey ginger," he repeats back, eyes darting over her expression then away to turn slightly. He takes a sip from his pina colada and lifts his free hand, waving down the bartender. The man steps over and Malone grins at him, "Could we get a whiskey ginger for the lady and another one of these coladas for me?" A nod was given and he smiled his thanks before turning his attention back to the woman.

"Tony, by the way," he holds his hand towards her as if to offer up the chance to shake it, "I'd guess yours, but uh... I get the feeling you wouldn't care for that game off the bat." A small, slightly nervous, chuckle leaves him.

[gumshoetm]

closed: @refugetm where: birdhouse

It wasn't every day you saw a beautiful dame with legs up to here at the bar, but here was Malone in his dreams of meeting one. Maybe that was big thinking, big dreaming, but she was literally right there and all alone at the bar drinking her whiskey. It was a contrast to his fruity cocktail that he was sipping on from where he sat at the other end of the bar, but that didn't sway him from slipping off his stool and shuffling over to where she was. He sidled up to her and the empty stool beside her, well aware that this could backfire in his face completely. Hell, he wasn't a confident guy and was definitely way more insecure than he liked to let on. But, hey, he was a private investigator, right? He had to have some air about him that said he knew what he was doing no matter what it was: so, hitting on a pretty woman? Well, he could manage that.

"Don't think I've seen the likes of you around here before," he lets out confidently, small smirk on his lips, "Not that I frequent the bar... " not a complete lie, "I just happen to know many faces around Hatchetfield and I feel I'd remember a pretty one such of yours."

[gumshoetm]

closed: @workinboystm where: pasqualli's

Malone sat at a back booth within Pasqualli's, folder sat on the table next to him and a plate of spaghetti in front of him. The basket of breadsticks halved and on their way to needing a refill on their all you can eat rule. He's barely a few bites into the pasta dish when he spots Henry Hidgens entering the building. He lifts a hand as a way to get his attention and flashes a grin as he waits for the man to walk over; fork poking and twisting into the spaghetti to get another bite. He pops it into his mouth and hums a greeting as Hidgens slides into the opposite side of the booth. He doesn't say anything as he chews-- his ma had taught him better than that, but he does slide the folder over before setting his fork down.

He grabs at the cloth napkin folded on the table and lifts it up to dab at his mouth. He lowers it back down and waits a beat for Hidgens to open the folder-- no pictures inside, not yet at least. Instead there's a business card, that's it. A single one business card. All that build up for something so simple. He speaks though, his bite of food now dropped to his stomach, "I found him." He gives a small shrug and leans forward slightly, hand raising to come over and tap against the business card, "Now, that there is what I believe to be his place of business in Vermont. It's a brewery and bar." He quirks a brow, "Classy, right?" On the card itself is the name of the place, 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗪𝗘𝗟𝗟, and Chad's name in wonderfully picked font-- if you asked him.

[gumshoetm]

full name ⸻ tony malone occupation ⸻ private investigator sexuality ⸻ pansexual pronouns ⸻ he / him height ⸻ 6 ' 1 " notable features ⸻ most commonly found wearing a white bucket hat, cargo shorts, and slides with socks

positive traits ⸻ observant, thorough, alert, efficient, easygoing negative traits ⸻ disorganized, mischievous, needy, nosy aesthetics ⸻ living out of your car or motel rooms, the smell of an overused ashtray, having too much incriminating information to keep quiet about biggest fear(s) ⸻ being too seen

BIO ⸻

Tony is Hatchetfield's best (and only) private investigator. A job he realized he would be good at in high school when he never got caught peeping the girl's locker room, ehehe. Not that that was what led him down this path. Originally he wanted to be an official detective, but when he got turned away from the police academy he decided to take things into his own hands after his mother snapped her fingers in front of him and said do something for yourself! So he did. He worked bussing tables for a period of time until he was able to afford a nice camera he learned to use within a few days of having, ensuring he knew how to snap a quick and clean picture without flash. He went about making flyers after that, putting them up around town until those calls started coming in. Calls about cheating spouses, missing people, missing pets, and even deaths... or rather suspicious deaths. He found himself being busy and booked after a year of pushing flyers out.

It was in that time he also started finding it easier to just sleep in his car, work from it, and really just live in it. His mom never said he had to leave, but she didn't waste time turning his room into a crafts situation with various this or that once he was out. He had a storage unit, small one, for things he didn't take with him and some place he'd visit often to swap out clothes to wear. He was a frequent person at the laundromat for cleaning clothes and the rec center for showers. But if he ever grew tired of his car he'd simply rent a night or two at No Tell Motel.

Tony makes it a point to still have dinners with his ma and nona every Sunday, even convincing his sister, Hailey, to show up every so often. Hailey, the younger of the two, was also his best friend... maybe his only friend, but he didn't often speak on that. He knew she had her friends and he didn't want her feeling sorry for him and he was pretty good at feigning confidence, especially since he had to stop caring what people thought of him due to his skeezy job.