Nova Wells { NYPDs Lead Homicide Detective }Â
Nadya Kingsley { Arms Dealer for the Irish }Â

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@novawells
Nova Wells { NYPDs Lead Homicide Detective }Â
Nadya Kingsley { Arms Dealer for the Irish }Â
Everyone was screaming and she realized she was far too drunk for this. She found refuge under a table and let out a sigh. If only she could figure out which way to go. Nathalie was clearly lost in her thoughts and hadn’t even noticed someone was now under the table with her.
@novawells
Nova recognized the sound echoing through the ballroom immediately. Her hand instinctually reaching for her side where her gun normally rested in its holster, only to palm empty space. Nova froze, instantly remembering that she had come unarmed to the party. Shit. Blue eyes frantically searched the terrified crowd of fleeing party guests. She needed to find Christian and Rowan; she needed to get her people out of this shit show.Â
The detective’s search was cut short as she ducked underneath the nearest table to avoid a spray of bullets. Nova quickly realized she wasn’t alone, eyes sliding to the woman already huddled underneath the table. She quickly scanned over the woman's form, searching for any signs of injury. “Are you hurt?”Â
{ @natbardot }
@novawells
Dante hardly glanced up from his phone when the young woman – who so clearly screamed cop as she walked – approached him, lazily flickering through a series of photographs. The photos were without a doubt incriminating if one knew what they were looking at, but there was no doubt in his mind that Nova Wells would be looking for anything on his phone. Rather, it was likely something about an old associate of Dante’s. A mole, one could say, who bore a striking resemblance to the blonde.Â
Not that she knew.Â
“Ciao, bella.” His dark eyes slide upwards – glinting with a shadowed amusement at the sight of her – and he slide his phone into his jacket pocket. “What do you say to a glass of wine, hm?”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Nova muttered underneath her breath the moment her eyes landed on him. Dante Vicario. She would have recognized the bastard anywhere. The blonde’s blood boiled at the sight of him and without so much as a second thought, Nova crossed the floor towards him with fire in her eyes.
“Don’t bella me, Vicario,” Nova hissed, blue eyes narrowing at the smug Italian Don in front of her. Dante’s presence at the party didn’t leave the detective with any promising feelings about the rest of the evening. If anything, it sent alarm bells blaring in the back of her mind. She refused to amuse him with a response -- not that it would have taken a genius to figure out her answer. The wine could have been water from the fountain of youth and Nova would have refused. “What the hell are you doing here?” She asked, crossing her arms over her chest.Â
{ @dantexxvicario }
Nova Wells ♢ Golightly Gala
Event 01: A Star is Born
Nova could get it!!
Well, considering everyone seems to be sleeping with the police these days, I’d say you have a fair shot.
( @novawells )
@novawells
New York was truly the city that never slept, though organised crime was of course the priority number one there were still cases that didn’t have to do with whatever mess was brewing in the shadows of the city, and those also needed to be solved, and if he could say so the detectives of the nypd truly were very good at their job -something he probably could tell them more often.- He knocked on Nova’s office and went inside. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything?”
Nova loathed working at her desk. She much preferred working on the floor of her office instead of being confined to the small surface area of her desk. The detective never really questioned how spreading out on the floor helped, even under the weird looks the other detectives at the precinct gave her. The blonde really didn’t care what they thought so long as her methods worked, and they did - the number of solved cases under her belt was proof enough.
So when someone made their way inside her office, Nova didn’t make a move to explain why she was sitting criss-cross on the floor surrounded by case files. Instead, she looked up from her spot on the floor with a raised eyebrow. “Oh, Sergeant Hayes,” the blonde greeted, moving to stand up at his arrival. “I was just cross-referencing some witness statements from the Miller case. Is there something I can help you with?” She asked before beginning to gather the scattered files.
{ @julian-hayes }Â
Give me 6 characters and I’ll tell you who i would:
Push off a cliff
Kiss
Marry
Set on Fire
Wrap a Blanket around
Be Roommates with
{ @nadya-kingsley }
Nova Wells { NYPDs Lead Homicide Detective }Â
Nadya Kingsley { Arms Dealer for the Irish }Â
A knock sounded from the door to Christian’s office, alerting him to Nova’s presence before she made her way inside. “Look alive Bennet,” she greeted, carrying a tray holding two coffees and a pastry bag containing two chocolate croissants. “I come bearing gifts,” the blonde announced, setting the drink tray and pastry bag on his desk. “And a joint case,” she added, finally holding up the case file that had been tucked against her side.Â
{ @christianvbennet }
who's your favorite detective? ;)
“Whichever one is the least pain in my ass. Sometimes, I rank them by week - like the Dance Mom’s pyramid. The top of the pyramid usually has Nova or Christian. The bottom of the pyramid is literally everyone else that tries my patience - Max  - not that I’m calling anyone out or anything.”Â
@novawells, @christianvbennet​, @milianxs​
@novawells
“I-yes, would it be possible to put off the payment for a day or so? Rent will be coming up and- yes, I understand that this is the second time this month. It’s just that things have been…Right. Well, I understand. Terribly sorry for the trouble.” Owen sighed, ending the call before looking at his phone. His usual night job had cut back his hours, again, and bills were already starting to pile up. The lanky man sat down on the concrete steps in front of his apartment, feeling just a small twinge of hopelessness well up in him.
But sulking wouldn’t put food on the table. Owen pocketed his cell phone, taking out a similar one to check for messages. If his regular jobs wouldn’t give him enough hours, then the family business was his last resort. Unfortunately. He dialed in a familiar number, bringing it up to his ear before he heard the apartment door open behind him. Owen leaned back, looking up to see a friendly face. “Miss Wells! How are you? Lovely evening now, isn’t it?”
There was not one doubt in Nova’s mind that being a homicide detective was what she was meant to do. But going into the precinct some days was harder than others. Days, when Muller assigned her cases involving teenagers, were the worst in her book. She had spent the last two hours combing through crime scene reports, medical records, witness statements, and just about every other report imaginable trying to piece together the evidence to nail the person responsible and bring closure to the grieving family. But the longer Nova stared at the files, the more frustrated she grew. She had to take a break and clear her head.Â
As Nova stepped outside for a bit of fresh air (though it was questionable how fresh city air could really be), she paused in the doorway of her apartment building, noticing a figure already perched on the cement steps. A smile tugged at the corners of her lips as a familiar face peered back at her. “Hey Owen,” the blonde greeted, stepping onto the stoop and closing the door to their building behind her. “I’ve been better,” she admitted, her thoughts drifting to the files strewn about her living room floor and the pressures of her latest case. “But I’ll manage. I hope you and your gran have been doing well.”Â
“Mind a bit of company?” Nova asked, motioning to the spot on the steps beside him.Â
{ @owwencavendish }
%
Send “%” for a CURIOUS text.
4:14 P.M. [ to “SuperNova” ] What’s your favorite dessert? No reason. Just…no reason. 👀4:19 P.M. [ to “SuperNova” ] Okay! I’m terrible at surprises! I’m buying us CAKE.
( @novawells​ )
Girls like her were born in a storm. They have lightning in their souls, Thunder in their hearts, and chaos in their bones.
Girls like Her | Nikita Gill (via untamedunwanted)