Afternoon Constable, lovely day for it. How’s the job going so far?
"Hm? Oh, hullo! Lovely day for it indeed."
The man turns to face the viewer.
He chuckles, examining his torn coat with disdain before returning his gaze up.
"Job is going as it always does, bit more exciting than usual though! Do hope your day's been right as rain, of course."
Hello, hello...this is on, yes? Good, good! Cracking, if you will.
Before we proceed, I've got to lay out a few...rules. Keep the folks from gettin' too wild, hah!
One: While not safe for work (NSFW) is allowed, it shouldn't be too explicit! Keep it toned down to a...presentable level. This is to prevent making people uncomfortable, though I will keep a tag on all NSFW content (block the tag #constable after dark if you'd not like to see that sort of thing)
Two: Interaction by both watchers and citizens is encouraged, I do love a good chit chat with my fellow Wellies! (Read: Roleplay is encouraged! Do abide by standard roleplay rules however, no godmodding, story changing to a grand extent, etc etc)
Three: Enjoy yourself! I do aim to make Wellington Wells a comfortable and cheery place, as my job dictates I do! Have fun, but don't have too much fun, else someone may suspect you're a Downer.
Last but not least, let's all remember to take our Joy! Keeps everything running smoothly, and makes sure everything around stays right as rain, right as rain.
That'll be all! I cannot wait to get some inquiries and communications in. I'll answer your questions about my work, about the town I protect, about myself, my coworkers (though not too scandalous, I do care about their reputations), anything you've got curiosities about I'll endeavor to answer!
The mun behind this blog (Nikolai) uses he/him and it/its pronouns, and cannot wait to hear from you guys! The main blog for this askblog is @camotherogue , I post artwork and such there from time to time and would love if you checked it out!
how are ya doing, constable? do you like your job? :3
The Constable's eyes twinkle seeing the new correspondence on the blower, eyes narrowing in the slightest to show how pleased he is.
"Well, hullo to our first! Thank you so much for asking, I've been well. I 'ad a very pleasant patrol this morning, and finished it off with a cup of "coffee" at the Constabulary. Always a pleasure to be there."
He chuckles, folding his hands on the desk in front of him.
"As for my job, well, how could I not? I get to talk with the citizens of Wellington Wells, ensure peace and good will through the country with my fellow bobbies...what's not to like, my friend? I always find the night patrols to be my favorite, but daytime patrols are lovely when I can say hullo to the old ladies on their way to church or to the young men headed to the office for the day! A lovely job indeed."
It's not as though he was concerned for his reputation among these fools, but he didn't really need them poking around like he was some Downer if he showed discontent with his coworkers.
Constable Wormwood picked the displaced can from the floor and looked it over, before dropping it in his rubbish bin and taking in a deep breath. He could hold his tongue a while longer.
What was that, sir? Care to speak up a notch, sir?
@wellingtonwellspolice
He turned to face the speaker, eyes briefly widening in surprise. He hadn't expected anyone to be standing at his office door, but he decided to quickly deflect.
"Hm? Oh, 'pologies. Jus' talking to myself, you know 'ow it is."
Constable Wormwood chuckled dryly, narrowing his eyes at the one speaking to him. He put that cheery facade back on over his voice, that little trick he'd learned from the evening radio the host used to make it all sound right.
"Everyone chatters to themselves sometimes, of course. Frankly, my mutterings are 'ardly any business of anyone else's, if I 'ave anything to say about it. Carry on with whatever you were doing, Constable."
After chucking the can at the wall and letting his frustrations out, Wormwood took a deep breath and picked up said can to drop on his desk. On the exhale, he sat down in his desk chair and pinched the bridge of his nose through his mask.
Wormwood storms into his office, slamming his fist against the button to shut the door behind him. The man hurls the empty grapefruit juice can in his hand at the nearest wall and letting out an angry "GAH". His shoulders heave as he lets out an audible snarl.
He stands up straight, taking a deep, long breath in and exhaling sharply, muttering something to himself.
