Moon Bay City… Named after the clear night sky that rests over the famous bay, a bustling port town is where we lay our scene. The strong grip of a criminal organization suffocates this city, forcing the police to work around the clock to take them down. But with their hands full, no one is around to stop the thieves, vandals, and other petty criminals. That is until a lone private detective rose up to the challenge. Jackson Trace and his apprentice Charlie run the Moon Bay Detective Agency. They solve these smaller crimes and help anyone who needs their services. But who knows what they'll uncover about this city and it's origins…
~
Hello! My name is Sumi (@sumi-toons), and welcome to the official blog for Moon Bay City Detectives! It's my original comedy/adventure series that'll consist of written chapters and various art pieces. FAQ is under the cut, and I hope you enjoy!
How often do chapters come out?
Uploads are probably going to be random and infrequent. Once I get started, im hoping to release at least one chapter per month.
What's the age rating for this?
I'd give it a 15+ age rating since it handles some heavy topics.
Any trigger warning?
All chapters will have their own warnings at the beginning. I will also try and provide safe chapter summaries in case you need to skip a chapter.
Can we reblog/repost chapters or art?
Please reblog!!! it means a lot to me. Reposts are not allowed ever.
Can we make fan art?
Yes!!! Fan art is appreciated, just please tag me so I can see it! (NO NSFW/18+ ART)
any additional questions will be added later. until then: see u around!!
i love mbcd. it's my favorite story ever. but I cannot for the life of me write anything ever. like it hurts me. novelization is my least favorite form of storytelling. I'm not getting rid of mbcd ever but I just need a different way to convey the story. I guess that makes chapter 1 a pilot. sorry about that :(
Hello!!!!! Here is my propaganda art for Jackson Trace! You should vote Jackson Trace! Unlike Keiji he is the legal guardian of his child, meanwhile Keiji is more a father figure. This means he fits the definition of DILF more which makes him more qualified
Additionally, he Is a good father, and works very hard to support his daughter. He's even a detective.
He is haunte dby th Horrors™ aka just one random guy is in his head. That's probably the moon? Or something
I even gave this art a moon motif
And most importantly, he's my mutuals oc and hes the best guy ever I think he should win
Jackson Trace: he/him, 30 years old, Puerto Rican & Brazilian. A very strongly built, tall man with tanned skin and wavy long hair that reaches his neck. Wears a dark green shirt, white tie, black sleeve on his left arm, and gray pants. Has a scar on his forehead and stubble. Private detective and single dad. cool-headed in the face of danger, takes his job very seriously but is very comedic and light hearted outside of work despite alway being Very Tired. Likes to sing, cook with his daughter, see the ocean, and relax after a long day.
(rest under the cut)
Charlie Maddigan: he/him, 20 years old, white (unknown origin). A short guy with fluffy light brown hair. Wears a white shirt, orange tie, a dark blue sweater vest, and dark gray pants. Sometimes wears a paperboy hat. Jackson's apprentice and best friend. a very anxious person with a heart of gold. horrible and confronting people or being assertive, but will try his best regardless. cries easily. Loves to play the saxophone and spend time with Jackson and his pet cat Rice.
Wenna Zhang: she/her, 24 years old. Chinese. A short, slighty muscular woman with long black hair usually tied in a messy bun. Wears a pink & dark blue hoodie with a labcoat on top, and reading glasses in the pocket. Jackson's adoptive younger sister and roommate. a college student currently getting her PhD in meteorology. very energetic and determined and easily distracted. Loves dancing, competitive gaming, women, food, baseball, and her family.
Maiko Trace: she/her, 8 years old. A short kid with fair skin and short dark brown hair in a neat bob. She wears a yellow T-shirt, pink skirt, and dark blue apron. Also wears a read bandana tied in a bow over her head. Jackson's daughter. a curious and cheerful kid with a strong passion for cooking. hopes to someday win a televised cooking competition and open her own restaurant. Loves her family, ducks, and running errands with her dad.
Thomas Grant: he/they, 29 years old. French and Italian. A slim, tall person with neck length, slicked-back blond hair. Wears a maroon sweater vest, white shirt, black tie, dark brown pants, and beige trenchcoat. Also wears thin framed glasses. An investigative reporter who recently moved to the city. Very uptight and professional and lacks energy, but is never mean. wants to relearn how to make friends. Likes reading, writing, watching romance dramas, and eccentric plants.
Shannon Becker: she/her, 25 years old, Jewish. A tall and slim woman with curly dark brown hair that reaches the middle is her back. She wears a black dress, white scarf, and red blazer. Thomas's assistant and a reporter-in-training. Very shy and severely lacks confidence in herself and her skills. extremely kind to everyone around her. Loves writing, watching cartoons, and flowers.
Brian Cunningham: he/him, 29 years old. Greek. A kinda scrawny man with messy, straight dark brown hair. He wears a black suit, white shirt, and a dark purple tie. He has very prominent eyebags. Police detective and self-proclaimed rival of Jackson. A very self-absorbed and egotistical man who believes he's much more talented than he actually is. Despite his self-centered nature, he does still care about the people in his life and tries his best to be there for them when he can. Loves himself, money, coffee, the rain, and the moon.
Gilbert Ridge: *he/him, 26 years old. African-American. A man of average height and build with dark skin and short curly hair. His right arm is amputated below the elbow. He wears a flat cap, light blue button-down shirt with short sleeves, black pants, and a dark blue trenchcoat over his shoulders. * A police detective and coworker of Brian. They often investigate together. A very noble yet naive man who always tries to help everyone he can. Sometimes a bit clumsy. Loves helping people, snacks, writing poetry, going on walks, and animals.
Mizuchi: he/they/it, ???. An extremely tall man with tanned skin and messy, fluffy black hair that reaches his lower back. He has black and dark purple tattoos on his hands and forearms. Not much is currently known about him aside from being disliked by Jackson.
everyone go submit Jackson Trace for the ultimate dilf tournament. if we get enough nominations we might get him in. I know he won't get past the first round but it's good enough for me that he's at least considered for a second
Chapter 1: Seagulls, Pancakes, and a Bad First Impression
Jackson Trace heads off to work, like any other day, only to find another high-stakes case waiting for him. Oh well, at least the pay is good.
can also be read on ao3
[?????, ??:??]
"Trace…" a voice whispered. "Wake up..."
Jackson's eyelids fluttered open as he began to gain consciousness. His head was pounding and his vision was fuzzy. He sluggishly sat up to get a good look at his surroundings—an endless void, sitting on a grainy floor, the midnight color making it nearly impossible to make out what exactly was underneath him.
"That's better, I was beginning to think you finally reached your limit."
Jackson turned to see the voice speaking behind him. A tall, slender man with long, oily black hair was standing over him. He wore simple rags and had chains around his wrists that led into the pitch-black dirt beneath them.
"Mizuchi? What do you want?" Jackson sneered.
"How rude," he replied, his tone viciously teasing, "Am I not allowed to come by and say hello?"
"Don't lie," Jackson said, pushing his messy black hair away from his face, "You wouldn't bother showing up without a reason."
Mizuchi sighed. "Very well, I will admit that I have a few things to say."
"Save it", Jackson snapped, "I already know what you want. I'm not going to help you.”
"It would do you well to at least hear me out." he sighed, clearly restraining his anger. "You've been ignoring me for far too long. I only spared you this long because you've helped me before… but your time is running out, and soon you will have to pay."
"Go to hell."
The man laughed, the ground beginning to shake beneath them. "Where I am is far worse! And one day…" He leaned forward, tilting Jackson’s face up by the chin, making him forcibly meet his eyes.
"...You'll join me."
He closed his fist, crushing Jackson's head.
~~
[Jackson’s Apartment, March 4th, 1995, 8:00 AM]
Jackson jolted awake, his hand clutching his chest. He struggled to catch his breath and stop his hands from trembling.
Dammit, another nightmare…
This was the second time this month he had trouble sleeping. He checked his alarm clock: 8:00 AM. He rubbed his eye and dragged himself out of his dark, messy room.
His apartment was small, with only two bedrooms. The living room stood at the center, connecting the rest of the house, one that looked the same as it did every morning. Sunlight illuminated the area, giving the room a soft orange glow; Chef Wars reruns playing on the TV; the smell of maple and warm fruit lingered in the air; dozens of papers scattered over the coffee table—some were recipes, some were research notes.
Wenna…
Jackson carefully picked up the research notes and walked them over to his sister's room. Upon spotting the steam seeping out from under the door across from her room, he pounded on the door.
"Wenna! Hurry up, I'm gonna be late for work!" he yelled.
"Too bad!” She called out. “Not my fault you woke up late!”
Jackson heaved a sigh. Admitting defeat, he left to peek inside the kitchen. As he approached the room, the smell of flour and maple grew stronger. In front of the stove, a little girl stood on a box. She was pouring pancake batter onto a hot pan, dripping a bit onto the hot surface, joining the mess of flour and eggshells scattered all over the kitchen counter. Her short black hair was loosely tied back with a red bandana, hardly standing out against a baggy yellow T-shirt, short pink skirt, and the dark blue apron faded from being washed over the years. She picked up a nearby spatula and flipped one of the pancakes, revealing a perfect golden brown color.
Jackson softly knocked on the nearby door frame. "May I come in?" he asked, his tone gentle to avoid startling the girl.
She placed the finished pancake on a plate and turned around. "Papa!" she exclaimed. "You woke up late again!"
"Sorry about that, sweetheart. What'cha make for breakfast?"
"Pancakes!" she says, holding up a finished plate of golden brown pancakes smothered in syrup and raspberries.
"That looks delicious, Maiko," He remarks, reaching over to grab one, only to be met with her gently smacking his hand away.
"Don't eat with your hands!" she scolded.
"Alright, alright. Just pack it up for me and I'll eat it at work." He turned to leave, but stopped in his tracks. "Hey, could you make some for Charlie?"
Maiko smiled and held up a nicely wrapped orange lunch container. "I already did!" she says, giggling to herself. "Now go get ready while I wrap up yours!"
Behind them, a door bursts open, filling the hallway with steam. A short young lady trudged out from the cloudy doorway, her dark hair dripping onto the hardwood floor. She wore a dark blue hoodie, pink tank top, and denim shorts. A small towel was lazily draped over her head.
"Shower’s free," Wenna said, rubbing her hair with the towel before draping it around her neck. "You know, you really need to wake up earlier.”
He rolls his eyes. "It's not like I'm not doing this on purpose,” he muttered, heading over to take a shower.
The apartment only had one small bathroom. A shower was tucked away in the side behind a blurry glass door. On the other side, a simple toilet faced a small sink that sat below a fogged-up mirror, joined by a radio that sat on a small shelf beside it. Jackson turns it on and adjusts the dial until the static dies down. He then turns the shower on and steps inside.
A young voice pipes up from the radio. "Breaking news: Archibald Pellegrini, local philanthropist and owner of the Pelligrini estate, was missing from yesterday night's town hall meeting. Reports say that he did not give any prior notice to his absence. His reasoning and whereabouts are still unknown."
"Pellegrini? A no-show?" He mumbled to himself, "That's not like him… Shit, wait, what time is it?"
Realizing he was still late, Jackson haphazardly got out of the shower, wrapped a towel around his waist, and ran out of the bathroom. Wenna was by the front door holding Maiko's backpack while she put on her shoes.
"Jack, I'm taking the car today,” his sister called out to him.
"What?! No, I need to get to work on time!"
“Too bad! I gotta take Maiko to school and go shopping after work. Just take the train.”
“Fine!” he groaned, running off to get dressed.
“Papa!” Maiko piped up. “You forgot something.”
He stopped right in front of his bedroom door. “Ah! My bad!" he said as he spun around to walk towards her. He knelt down, held her face with both hands, and kissed her forehead. "Have a good day at school, okay?"
Maiko beamed with joy. “I will! See you later!" She exclaimed, bouncing out the door with Wenna.
~~
[Train Station, 8:47 AM]
The brisk, early spring morning breeze chilled the air. Sunlight crept through the narrow windows, illuminating the train station from afar. Rush hour had passed, and the station was almost empty; it was silent, save for the sound of Jackson’s foot tapping the floor as his leg bounced impatiently. He glanced again at the electric sign above him. It read:
"INBOUND SUBWAY TRAINS. RED LINE: 5 MIN. BLUE LINE: 10 MINUTES. ORANGE LINE: 15 MINUTES. YELLOW LINE: 2 MINUTES."
He sighed and sank back onto the bench. His stomach rumbles in protest; he still hadn't eaten.
After a few more minutes of waiting, a sleek yellow subway train arrived at the platform. An old lady stepped out with her chihuahua on a leash. Spotting Jackson’s bright green button-down shirt, it craned its body towards him and barked aggressively. Jackson jumped back in shock, barely keeping his breakfast from dropping.
The senior woman pauses in her tracks, picking up the dog and stroking its fur gently. “Oh dear, I’m so sorry. He’s not usually like this…” she apologized.
“Don’t worry, ma’am, it’s not your fault,” he replies with a sigh, “Dogs have never liked me very much.”
A jingle played on the P.A system, signaling the train’s departure. Before the woman could reply, he bolted inside, barely making it before the door closed. The train began to move, making its way above ground and emerging out of the tunnel, sunlight pouring into the train car. The skies were clear, aside from some stray clouds scattered around the horizon. The streets were lined with small shops, ranging from tailors to butchers to CD stores. Office buildings towered over the city like pillars holding up the heavens. In the distance, the bay could be seen glistening with the sun's rays.
The train zoomed across the city, passing by several billboards for upcoming performances and auditions. Moon Bay City was a simple port town known for its bustling streets and talented artists. It was the most popular tourist destination in all of Shinkai Island—performers from all over would come here to try and make it big. Jackson sighed wistfully, remembering his childhood dreams of becoming a singer. All those years of practice and training, dreaming of the day he’d make his debut on the big stage. The train signaled his stop, cutting off his daydreaming. It pulled up to his stop and he got off, walking over to his office.
Ah well, he thought to himself, being a detective isn’t so bad.
The Moon Bay Detective Agency was run in a small office at the bottom of a small apartment building. Aside from the hand-painted sign above the door, it blended in with the rest of the block. Jackson pulled his keys out of his pocket and opened the door carefully, making sure he wouldn't drop his food.
The office had one main room, akin to a messy, repurposed lounge area, with case files and documents scattered all over. There were two desks, one just a bit smaller than the other, sitting on opposite sides of the room. In one of the chairs was the fat cat sprawled out across, clearly in the middle of her morning nap.
A young man sat at the larger desk, frantically talking on the phone. His soft brown hair was messy, the sleep still visible in his simple appearance. He wore a white shirt, a knitted dark blue vest, and an untied orange tie.
"Yes ma'am, I understand— Ma'am please listen, I— yes yes I know but I can't help you if—" He sighed in defeat. Jackson could hear the lady’s voice from where he stood, and she was loud. He could only imagine what his co-worker had been up to all morning. The man waved at Jackson and gave him a tired smile.
Good morning Charlie, Jackson mouthed silently. For a moment, Charlie’s exhaustion was washed away as he grinned and waved at his boss. Jackson gestured to take the phone from him and trades it for the containers of pancakes Maiko made.
"Moon Bay Detective Agency, this is Jackson Trace, how can I help you?" He cheerfully announced, leaning against the desk.
"Oh thank heavens, a real detective," an old woman said between sniffles. "I need your help! My dear Archie is… He's... Oh no—" And with that, she began to sob once more, her voice shaking as she drew out her words.
"Madam please, we can't help you if you don't stop crying."
Charlie sighed, chewing and swallowing his bite of the pancakes. "It's no use, she's been like this all morning."
Jackson opened up his breakfast, gave a quick prayer, and started eating. "Well then... If trying to reason with her won't work, then we need a different approach." He hung up the phone.
"Sir! You can't hang up on a client!" Charlie exclaimed, his brown eyes widening in shock.
"Oh don't worry, Charlie. She just needs a little shock to bring her back to her senses. Just watch," he hums nonchalantly, pointing to the phone.
Moments later, the phone rang. Jackson picked it up and said once again, with all the politeness in his voice of a customer service worker: "Moon Bay Detective Agency, this is Jackson Trace. How can I help you?"
"How dare you hang up on me! Do you have any idea who I am?"
"As a matter of fact, I don't know who you are. In fact, you never introduced yourself or told us what you need our help with."
The old woman went silent for a moment, giving Jackson the opportunity to glance over at Charlie with a look that seemed to say I told you so. Then, she cleared her throat. "Where are my manners…! I am Gertrude Pellegrini, and my husband has gone missing!"
"Ah yes, Archibald Pellegrini. I heard about him in the news this morning. They said he didn't attend the town hall meeting last night."
"Yes, and hasn’t come home either. He's gone! Oh dearie me!" She wailed, clearly distressed.
"Madam, that's enough. Where did you see him last?"
"Yesterday morning, when he left to go run some errands and such. He mentioned going down to the pier to speak with the fishermen there."
“Really?” He says, jotting that down on a notepad, “ Don't worry Madam Pellegrini, we will take care of everything. If you remember anything else that might help us, please give us a call.”
“Oh, thank you so much! How could I ever repay you?” Her cries began to grow intense once more, earning a silent, exasperated sigh from Jackson.
“We take cash or checks. Payment is per day of investigation.” He hung up and groaned, placing the phone on the table. He’d just gotten here, and things already seemed busy. The usual, he supposed. He turned to the side, facing his assistant properly with a grin. “Good morning Charlie! Sorry about all that.”
“Good morning, sir.” Charlie’s worn out smile remained. “It's all right… I just wish she didn’t call so early.”
He raised his eyebrow apprehensively. “When did she call?”
“Two hours ago,” he answered, sinking into his chair.
“Two hours?!” Jackson repeated. “Charlie, you should’ve hung up and let me call back later.”
“I didn’t want to upset her,” he mumbled between bites of his pancakes.
Jackson rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Well, there’s nothing we can do about it now. We’ll start investigating at the pier and see if anyone knows where he went. If that doesn’t work, then maybe his secretary knows what other errands he was planning to do.”
The two kept eating their breakfasts, chatting about trivial things when the phone rang again. Jackson picked up and leisurely said, “Moon Bay Detective Agency, how—”
“Trace, it's me,” a stern young woman’s voice interrupted. “Are you busy?”
“Sadiyah!” Jackson shouted, immediately straightening up. He could see Charlie side-eyeing him, clearly confused. He stammered for a few moments, trying to find his words.“To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Quit worrying Jackson, you’re not in trouble. I want to know if you spoke to Ms. Pellegrini today.”
Well, that was a relief. Jackson relaxed his shoulders at the clarification. “What a coincidence, she just called us; her husband went missing last night. He didn’t show up to the town hall meeting, so I’ve heard.”
“I’m well aware of Mr. Pellegrini’s disappearance,” Sadiyah said, irritation seeping through her words, “Who do you think was running the meeting?”
“Oh, right… I forgot you’re the mayor,” he chuckled. “So what happened at the meeting?”
“We were supposed to discuss next year’s budget, but it’s hard to plan when 10% of your funding doesn’t show up.”
“Wait… you’re telling me that Pellegrini is ten percent of the city’s funding?!” Jackson raised his voice, eyebrows furrowing.
Sadiyah groaned. He didn’t have to see her to know she was scowling. “It’s been a hard year, Jackson. The state gives us less and less money each year. We take what we can get and don’t complain… If you don’t find Archibald Pellegrini, this city will suffer greatly. Don’t. Mess. Up.”
“Don’t worry Mayor, we’ll bring him back safe and sound. Just leave it to us!” He exclaimed and hung up.
“Sir… This is bigger than we thought. Do you think we’ll find him?” Charlie asked.
“Oh, don’t worry, Charlie. I’m sure we’ll find him, one way or another,” Jackson winked, flashing a bold and mischievous grin. “Now, let’s head out before the police flood the scene!”
~~
[Northside Pier, 10:12 AM]
When the two arrived at the scene, it was just as they feared. The streets were closed off with caution tape and police cars lined the sidewalks. Police detectives were wandering the scene looking for any potential evidence.
“Looks like they beat us to it,” Charlie remarked.
“Now that I think about it, Mrs. Pellegrini would logically call the police before asking for our help,” Jackson said. “Still, we need to figure this out before them if we want to get paid.”
The duo stepped over the caution tape and walked around the scene. Giant storage containers lined the harbor. A few small fishing boats were docked, all of which were rusty and weathered down. Seagulls sat atop the boats, police cars, and fences. A few scattered police detectives were searching around the trash carefully trying not to disturb the birds.
Two men were standing off to the side, having a discussion. One was a tall older man wearing a yellow raincoat and worn-out fishing pants. The other was a short man wearing a police hat and a light blue short-sleeved button-up shirt.
"Detective Ridge!" Jackson called out. "Is Cunningham here?"
The shorter man turned around to face them. He was a relatively young, lean man with dark brown skin. A small tuft of curly hair peeked out from the brim of his hat. He was holding a tape recorder in his left hand, and his right arm was amputated right above the elbow.
"Mr. Trace!" he exclaimed. "What are you two doing here?!"
"Pellegrini's wife and the mayor asked us to take the case. Is that a problem?" he said sternly.
"No sir, it's just that Madam Pellegrini already asked us to take the case… I don't know why she'd ask you too."
"Well, I guess she just wanted to be extra careful. So where's Cunningham?"
"Boss? Hmm, I'm not sure, actually," he scratched his head and readjusted his hat. "He said he had a very important errand to run."
"Do you know when he'll be back?" Charlie asked.
Detective Ridge shook his head. "He said to run the investigation without him for now."
Jackson rolled his eyes. "Typical of Brian to run off in the middle of a case," he mumbled to Charlie, who seemed to shrug in defeat. "Well, what've you found so far?" He asked the detective.
"Not much… All we know so far is that Archibald Pellegrini came here yesterday at around two in the afternoon to speak with someone. We don't know who it was, what they were discussing, or where he went afterward."
Jackson frowned. "His wife said that he was speaking to one of the fishermen."
"I can assure you that whoever he was with didn't work here," the old man chimed in.
Jackson raised an eyebrow. "How do you know?"
The fisherman huffed and crossed his arms. "I was unloading at the dock when those two showed up. They stuck out like a sore thumb, all dressed in fancy suits and whatnot. Don't know why they came to this dump to have their meeting. If ya ask me, they were up to something suspicious."
"You didn't see where they went afterward?" Jackson asked.
"Of course not! I have work to do, ya know!" the old man snapped.
"Was there anything notable about Pellegrini or the person he was with?" Charlie asked. “Aside from the fancy suits and whatnot.”
"Hmm… Nothing really. One was wearing a big black coat, and the other had a business suit." Suddenly, the fisherman exclaimed, snapping his fingers. "Ah! There was one thing I noticed. I think I saw 'em drop something as they were leaving. I went over to check it out, but those darn birds took it before I could get a good look at it."
"H-Hey!" Detective Ridge sputtered in anger. "Why didn't you tell me that earlier?!"
The fisherman shrugged. "Sorry lad, didn't think much of it until now. Besides, you'll never get your hands on it anyway."
"Why's that?" Jackson asked.
"Nothing ever escapes the gulls, boy. They're as fierce as wolves and as fast as mice. If they find anything they like, they take it to their nest."
The old man pointed further down the pier, where an abandoned ship rested against the harbor. The glass was broken, and bird poop covered most of the top. Large holes punctured the hull, letting water inside. Dozens of seagulls flew in and out of the crevices.
"That's their nest…?" Charlie gulped.
"Aye. They've taken over the carcass of the S.S. Wilma."
"So you're telling me that the mystery item that Pellegrini's acquaintance dropped should be in there?" Jackson inquired as he stared at the remains of the ship, the gears in his head beginning t
"Oi, you're not thinkin' of going inside that thing, are you, lad?" The old man asked.
"Sir, I don't think that's a good idea…" Charlie chimed in. His cautious nature wouldn’t get them anywhere, so he was ignored.
"Look, this is the only lead we have. I don't have any better options." Jackson stated, beginning to tread over to the infested ship.
"Good luck with that. I have to interview the rest of the witnesses before the boss comes back," Detective Ridge sighed and went back to work.
The duo, now accompanied by the old fisherman, carefully approached the seagulls' nest. The front of the ship had been completely destroyed, serving as an entrance to the hollow interior. The inside was littered with moss, discarded food, and various trinkets, ranging from broken telephones to plastic water bottles.
"Over there!" The old man whispered. "That's the thing I saw!"
He pointed to the center of the nest, where a wooden cabinet fell and had since been smothered in moss and bird poop. A black square with a long silver rope sat on top, next to a sleeping seagull. Jackson wrinkled his nose at the horrible smell emanating from the abandoned ship.
"What is that?" Charlie asked, scowling in disgust. "And how are we going to get it? If we wake up that seagull, they’ll all probably start attacking us."
"Leave it to me," Jackson whispered as he slowly crept towards the ship. Once he reached the end of the dock, he stuck one foot inside the ship, testing to see if it could hold his weight. Once it was deemed safe, he slowly stepped inside.
As soon as pressed his full weight against the wood, the birds turned to look at him. They all stopped leaving and stayed perfectly still, watching his every move. Jackson swallowed his fear and kept creeping over to the broken cabinet, not daring to look away from the seagulls. If he let his guard down, maybe, just maybe, they’d all attack him without a moment’s notice. He carefully reached over for the silver chain, slowly pulling it away from the resting bird. He then noticed that part of the chain was underneath the seagull. There was no other option; he had to wake it up.
Jackson took a deep breath and yanked the chain out front underneath the bird. It screamed and squawked in anger, alerting its brethren of the intruder. Jackson bolted out of the ship, grabbed Charlie's hand, and fleeing the scene of the crime. The hundreds of seagulls loitering on the harbor were all giving chase, seeking vengeance on the thieves. The police investigators all ducked for cover, but the birds were luckily not after them.
"DETECTIVE TRACE!!!" Detective Ridge called out, but they were already too far away.
The duo raced out of the pier, running down the busy city streets to seek any shelter they could find. Cars honked at the swarm of birds blocking their vision. Luckily, they were both swift runners, but Charlie struggled a bit to keep up with his boss's spontaneous dodges. Jackson made a sharp turn at the next street corner, hoping to trick the flock. He immediately fell over, crashing into the pavement. He struggled a bit to get up, his right arm soaked in hot coffee. He turned around and saw a well-dressed man collapsed on the floor next to him.
"Ow!" the man exclaimed. "Please watch where you're going next time…!"
"Sorry about that!" Jackson replied before continuing his escape. He briefly turned back around to see that Charlie had finally caught up, along with the vengeful swarm of seagulls. Jackson bolted over to Charlie, picked him up, and sprinted as fast as he could.
This better be worth it, he thought to himself, for he knew this was going to be a long day.
ive decided im gonna post MBCD on both Tumblr and AO3. Reasons include:
im not gonna send ppl my tumblr if i wanted them to read this
if u have an ao3 account u can get notified for new chapters!!
another excuse to learn html
I wanted to have a backup place to post chapters in case of the absolute worst case scenario that something happens to my blog (that shouldn't happen but u can never be too safe)
i will ideally make a website later on and also have chapters go there, since that'll be more professional and all that. but that's later
as stated in the past, i really wanna get the first chapter out by early November (im realizing now it miiight take a few extra days after i finish writing cuz i gotta send it over to my beta reader). the wait is almost over, and thank you for your patience <3
