TankedGnolstalgia

Hiiii!!! Welcome to my Blag! I'm Ro-Lal, Gamer God. If you came looking for trouble you totes found it! :3

[tankedgnostalgia-blog]

clueless

[tereziscourgepyrope-deactivated]

BLAM.

The report of the shot in the enclosed space was incredible, but i still heard Roxy yelling through the ringing in my ears.  I don’t answer - what’s the point of words in a world where you can deliver a wicked grin? 

Okay, I admit it. The adrenaline was getting to me! I make a big show of firing one-handed while not even facing towards our pursuit, keeping my grin trained on Roxy.  BLAM, BLAM! See, life is all about patterns, probabilities and interconnected events. The first three shots weren’t even about hitting anything - they were about making me impossible to ignore, making our pursuit a little more cautious, and screaming at the driver-  “H4RD R1GHT, H4RD R1GHT!!” He (she? I can’t tell with humans in uniform sometimes, sorry guys, but humans all sorta smell the same) complies.  Feel the force of the turn, gauge the limo’s speed to be approaching 50mph, hear the squeal of the tires of the pursuit turning, use the angle of our turn to calculate the angle of the shot and… BLAM SCREECH CRASH HOOOOOOooooooooooooooonk….. I’d been aiming for the driver. Can’t be sure if I hit… downside of being blind. Good enough, though.

[tankedgnostalgia-blog]

Mostly, during the shoot-out, I was busy eating flies. She *really* just shot out the tires of a car, without even being able to see it. Never hitting another vehicle. I instruct the driver to just take us to my apartment, assure him I'll pay for any damage done to the limo. By the looks of it I'll have to buy a new one. Whatever. Gonna buy a freakin tank if I ever go out with her again. 

"Hon, I will love you forever if you teach me to shoot blind. That was fucking AWESOME!!" I take her shaking knuckles for a fistbonp because damn that's impressive. ...Maybe her hands weren't shaking. The beginnings of withdrawl start racing through me, minor tremors for now. Must've burned through my buzz faster than I thought. Knots work themselves into my abdomen like they were born to be there. Ugh. 

Fever breaks across my brow, and I slump back onto the seat for the duration of the ride, pressing into the welcoming cool. I have to ask because for some reason I hate myself, "How do we know that those people weren't from the family you're hired by? :ike, other fam. members that don't want us digging around?" She hums and nods, cleaning off her gun and reholstering it. She's either humoring me or can't hear. "Granted, it could just be the peeps that have/had her, but idk. How'd they even know where you were? You should totes sweep your hive and everything for bugs." She frowns when I say that. Figures. 

"Bugs, like, not insects, but um. They're little microphones to listen in on people. Some can be small as the head of a pin. Might be something to look into." She hmms again, dusting off her jacket. Yeah she can't hear me. No point in blabbering. Resting my eyes, I will the driver to go faster. Need burns my throat and makes me shiver, I want a shot of bourbon so bad I can smell it. 

[tankedgnostalgia-blog]

clueless

[tereziscourgepyrope-deactivated]

“FUCK1NG H3LL! TH3 F1L3!” When she’d had the gall to pick me up, I’d lost my hold on the manila file folder with all of the case information in it. I couldn’t really blame Roxy, because she’d just done the fifty yard dash in high heels, and because blaming her would do little to no good; the smell of her wild-eyed fear was already thick in the overly luxurious car.  Slumping against the seat, I have no explanation to offer the human that will satisfy her.  “WH4T TH3 FUCK 1ND33D, WHY DO YOU TH1NK 1 KNOW? D1D YOU TH1NK TH3S3 W3R3 FR13NDS OF M1N3” The klaxon of a car alarm is quickly silenced by the roar of an engine behind us, followed by additional reports of gunfire. Pursuit, and I’m in no condition to tell her that I’ve never been in an actual car chase before.  “TH1S LUXURYMOB1L3 1S F4R TOO CONSP1CUOUS 4ND CUMB3RSOM3” If we tried to escape with simple speed or maneuver, it was over; not being able to see (or smell - too far) our pursuit out the broken window, I could only judge the vehicle by sound, and it sounded like a sportscar. Grimly, I unhook the .357 from its concealed holster - a gift from a friend concerned with my safety, I hated it. It was basically a cannon, no subtlety at all, far too loud, and where’s the intimacy? It was inlaid with a dragon on the grip, stylized thing that wrapped around the revolving chamber and had the barrel extending from its mouth. I normally carried it for intimidation purposes only, but today it seemed as if I’d need to reach out and kill someone.

[tankedgnostalgia-blog]

Sitting back on the bench seat opposite her, I grumble a response, "No. But maybe you had an inkling. Course not." Gunfire sounds off behind us, and I guess they miss? No shattered glass, anyway. She complains about the size of the car irritably, "Yeah well I didn't think I'd be in a car chase, sweet cheeks. I thought, hey, pancakes. And maybe some snarky banter over whodunit." It's a weak joke, but it'll have to do.

Another report smashes the back window. Excellent. Consider investing in a vehicle with armored plating. That sounds like a wonderful idea. Maybe like the one they talked about in that Twilight book. (Hupp totally didn't read that.) It's a bizzare thing to be hung in the limbo where emotion is no longer present, muted so you know, you don't die. Crouching on the floor, I crawl over to Terezi who, much to my disbelief, is unholstering a gun. 

"Uh, babe? How are you going to-" The first shot she takes nearly blows my eardrums out, so I'm pretty sure I'm yelling when I ask "HOW THE HELL ARE YOU AIMING?!" 

[tankedgnostalgia-blog]

clueless

[tereziscourgepyrope-deactivated]

((im gonna try first person

im gonna live im gonna fly im gonna fail im gonna die))

“4R3 YOU GOOD TO DR1V3, R1GHT NOW, 1MM3D14T3LY” I didn’t want to change the subject so abruptly; hell, I didn’t want to leave. There was a half-full plate of pancakes still in front of me, but the smell of syrup was suddenly completely overtaken by the sharp odor of being watched. I didn’t know who the pair of humans in the nearby booth were, but I made the connection between the fact that they had not ordered anything, they were looking in this direction and had not spoken since the name Breckenridge had been spoken aloud. Too much to ignore.  Grabbing Roxy by the arm, “YOU H4D B3TT3R B3! YOU 4R3 COM1NG W1TH M3, OFF3ND3R” 

I had to make it sound threatening. I felt an urgent need to stifle the panic running up my throat, so I put my face in Roxy’s and whispered “pl4y 4long, w3 h4v3 to l34v3 out b4ck now now now now now”

[tankedgnostalgia-blog]

((wooo first person, u did fine bby))

"Um, probbles not, but my chauffeur is rite outside?" She grabs me by the arm, squeezing a warning. Something's off. Whispering about escape, she loudly proclaims something else about my offensiveness (thanks bby ilu) and tugs me towards the back room. 

Chairs scrape from a table nearby...oh. Two and two= oh shit. Refusing to look over my shoulder, I whisper to her back, "Babes what tha fuck is..." Terezi waves me silent, keeping a steady pace. How the hell did she know where she was going. Whatever. 

Once past the doors for the kitchen, we break into a trot, heading past confused immigrant cooks and a couple of curious waitresses. "Hon, who are those peo-" The doors to the kitchen slam open, and scuffling feet looking to go too fast on a greasy floor make themselves known. Hup. Grabbing Terezi by the wrist, I take over the lead, scrabbling for the back door and dailing up my driver.

"John, front of the alleyway. Now. Be ready to take off when we get in." Adrenaline shoots through my system, bright and electric. We're going too slow. They're coming oh shit they are coming. Slamming out the back door, I figure, screw the consequences.

"Sorry chica, we gotta haul and your ass is slow as fuck." Picking her up fireman style, I sprint for the mouth of the alleyway, the gladdest I've ever been to splash through puddles towards a waiting vehicle. Zig-zaging between piles of trash and god only knows what, I pound my feet into the unforgiving concrete. If I knew i would be running for my life, I would have opted for flats. Shouts and slapping shoes sound behind us, a deadly clicking that's all too familiar sends fear shooting down my spine. We have to get out, we just. fucking have. to. She's not a God. Push faster. Goddamn I'm out of shape. 

The first shot shatters the limo window as I toss Terezi into the car unceremoniously. She's more or less kept up an unending commentary of cuss-words since I picked her up, but the shot makes her quiet. I leap in on top of her, screaming at the driver to take off. Squealing tires are the only indication I have of moving, too busy checking my friend for injury. 

"K. Now you can tell me. What. The. Fuck." 

[litigiosum-blog]

Dont get me started on how sodding CHEAP robots are. Cant shoot em cant beat them up cant do nothing to em. Not like this is star wars or fallout when energy guns become common place. A gents got nothing in his repetoire other than hot lead and cold fists and neither of those work against stupid unfeeling robots.

But what ho roxy how goes it?

[tankedgnostalgia-blog]

hahaha omg.

now i remember, the epic battles btwn u and brobot holy shit

 poor babbu!!! 

(is that freaky think *thing still around or...?)

i'm okie, i've been living it up in NYC, laying down wicked haxxors on the unspsue *unsuspecting public, videogames, u kno u kno. super fun stuff 

lately a lot of dramarama in the timeline im from hopy shiz 

but it's okie :3 

r u still on hellmurder island?

[holeymother]

I Thought She Looked Like She Was Late For Something With The Way Her Clothes Are Half Off

[tankedgnostalgia-blog]

omg

she's on a 

just got tha log jog

or got the jay parade

(walk of shame (y tho) ahahahaha) 

[holeymother]

Aha Ha Ha She Does Youre Right

[tankedgnostalgia-blog]

like, she's running to slap a bitch rn holy shit

i can't stop looking @ it and laughing

[lovelostfashionfound]

Marte Mei Van Haaster - Vogue Russia March 2012

[tankedgnostalgia-blog]

hahahaha Kanaya!!!

omg i love the suit but

her face

it's just

'did that basic bitch just diss my outfit?!'

hahahahaha

[tankedgnostalgia-blog]

clueless

[tereziscourgepyrope-deactivated]

It was the time of night that the jukebox started playing depressing songs - Tom Waits, or Troll Tom Waits, it just sounds like gravelly murmuring all the same.  www.youtube.com/watch?v=6-pywHFUbGw You don’t answer the questions immediately - there is the pressing concern of putting oversyruped cake into your face, a task that your serrated teeth were in no way designed for but you complete with relish regardless. Part of why this out-of-the-way diner appeals to you is that their cooking is good to what their coffee is bad. Abrupt in your answer, “S3LF-K1DN4PP1NG W1TH NO CH4NG3 OF SOCKS M1SS1NG 4ND NO R4NSOM NOT3?” It wasn’t an avenue that you had considered too strongly, but mostly because even if it were completely true it wasn’t an answer that the Breckenridges would accept; if Caroline had abducted herself, it was a perfect crime because in the trial of her parents’ mind she was irrevocably innocent.  “OF COURS3 TH3Y H4V3 3N3M13S, 3V3RYON3 W1TH 4 POL1T1C4L L34N1NG L3FT OF TROLL R1CH4RD N1XON 1S 4N 3N3MY OF TH3 BR3CK3NR1DG3 GROUP, BUT TH3R3 1S 4 R34SON TH1S 4BDUCT1ON H4S N3V3R H1T N3WSP4P3R… TH3 F4M1LY 1S S3CR3T1V3 4ND LOW PROF1L3” Indicating to the waitress that you require a refill on the coffee, you order one for the human as well. “SH3 1S 4BSOLUT3LY H4MM3R3D, SO K33P 1T BL4CK 4ND K33P 1T COM1NG” You have no qualms about embarrassing her. She isn’t going anywhere, you’ve already decided this. 

[tankedgnostalgia-blog]

Welp. She didn't like that idea much. "Well, yeah. I mean, it's a distant probabali *probability, but like, sometimes ransomers send a phonecall later? And maybe we should find a way to check her finances, see if she pulled out any large sums of money before she disappeared?" You shrug, finishing off your soda. GDI syrup fingers. *sigh* 

You take a second to scan the room, it really is a dive for a diner. Low lighting, yellowed ceiling tiles, waitresses that look like they might have known Jesus. Art deco so cheezy it's cool again. She certainly has a knack for picking places that scream 'hardened detective!' 

Turning your attention to her, you hear the music shift over to something a bit more melancholy. "Alright. Secretive. Which probs. means there's lots of skeletons in the closet. Scandals and such. Are you thinking blackmail, maybe? But no ransom note...so that doesn't make sense. Hmm." 

You wince internally at the jibe. It's not like you haven't heard someone calling you a despicable drunk before. There's something badge-like about it to you now. Not as cool as a detective badge, but..."I prefer high functioning alcoholic, thank you. Please bring milk and sugar, dear." A wink at the waitress sends her scuttling off, mildly confused. Rezi can be aggressive about it all she wants. Won't change your mind about it till you're ready. 

Reason to yourself aloud. "Anyway. So it's pretty unlikely she kidnapped herself, or that someone else did. It's been about a week, which means if there was going to be a ransom, someone would have said something by now. Which means...she might be dead. Which could also be motvia *motivated by politico. reasons. Like, revenge. Anyone in particular they've pissed off recently?"

[tereziscourgepyrope-deactivated]

1S TH1S YOU

[tankedgnostalgia-blog]

ahahaha yus. mebbe when i was a little younger and had shorter hair, but yes. 

(is that u? :3)

[tankedgnostalgia-blog]

clueless

[tereziscourgepyrope-deactivated]

“NOT B4D - MOST C4S3S OF TH1S TYP3 F4LL MY W4Y DU3 TO F4M1LY D1SS4T1SF4CT1ON W1TH POL1C3 PROC3DUR3” There’s a number of things you pointedly don’t say, such as a repetition of your lecture on jurisdiction from the last time you spoke with Lalonde, or the necessity of providing results that parents can feel in order to maintain a case like this - or the importance of getting money up front in case results prove to be impossible. It’s no scam you run, but it’s no charity, either.  Your coffee manages to be burnt and lukewarm at the same time - it’s a law of coffee diminishing returns at places like these, the more bottomless your glass has direct correlation to how terrible the brew is to drink. As with any law, it’s not necessarily fair so much as it is absolute and irrefusable.

“C4ROL1N3 BR3CK3NR1DG3, N1N3 SW33PS W1TH TH3 S3NS3 OF S1X, POL1T1C4L MON3Y F4M1LY TH4T ST4YS B3H1ND TH3 SC3N3S” There are a couple of conclusions that you have already drawn, but it’s important to gauge what this human is worth straight off the bat. You’re no teacher, but she’s going to learn what to do sooner or later… unless you know what you’re dealing with to start though, she’s worse than useless to you. She’ll eventually forgive your demeanor or she won’t, but that doesn’t mean it’s gonna change.

“NO POSS3SS1ONS 4R3 M1SS1NG, NO R4NSOM NOT3 H4S B33N R3PORT3D, BOYFR13ND H4S 4 PR3TTY SOL1D 4L1B1” You slide a photo across the table while the waitress lays down two plates of pancakes.  The pancakes had not been a lie. 

C4ROL1N3.JPG

[tankedgnostalgia-blog]

You absolutely refuse to squeal at the sight of pancakes. Just a squeak will do. As predicted, the girl looks pretty much like any other upper class daughter of rich parents. Self-satisfied and haughty. Self-centered. She's in college, staying in a dorm, which doesn't make sense since mommy and daddy could pay for her own apartment...so...

"Brekenridge? I think I've heard of them before." You pause for a moment, chewing thoughtfully on the precious precious pastry. "Actually, yeah. I knew the mother, Mandi. Back when I used to go out to parties..." You stop yourself from mentioning 'before I became a complete drunk shut-in.' "We used to talk, apparently she knew this timeline's version of my mom, before she died. Nice lady. Kinda dumb."

Take a sip from your soda, feel the weight of Terezi's gaze. She's waiting for you to say something, anything. No idea what. So you'll babble. It's gotten you out of trouble before. Swallow. "So I've got a few questions. 1) Why was little princess living in a dorm room when Mommy and Daddy could just buy her an apartment? That could be motive for like, a staged kidnapping to get money or something. 2) Do the parents have any political/social rivals? Like, someone's mad about them swaying a vote or whatever?"

You stop, stuff your face with a knitted brow. There's a couple more ideas floating around your head, but they don't seem particularly plausible. Terezi's face is straight poker, you can't even get the slightest of reads off her. Being harder to decipher than Dirk takes talent. 

[tankedgnostalgia-blog]

clueless

[tereziscourgepyrope-deactivated]

Roxy has altogether too many resources, which makes life for her simpler than it should be in some ways - if she’s going to work with you, she’ll need to learn problem solving skills that can’t be had with a checkbook. You wave for the blurry blond blob near the door to sit, and it sharpens into a vodka-sweet young lady with tragedy imperceptibly beneath the surface.  Something about her makes you want to give her a blanket and some hot cocoa and handcuff her leg to a pipe until she’s over her delirium tremens, which culturally speaking is a kind and caring thought. Kind and caring isn’t how you survive.  A folder is in front of you, manila and full of clippings surrounding a lost sorority human. You’ve decided to tell Lalonde it’s an exercise, which is cruel and manipulative and much more like you normally work.  “1 HOP3 YOU DO NOT M1ND TH4T 1 ORD3R3D FOR YOU, T4K3 4 LOOK 4T TH1S”

[tankedgnostalgia-blog]

"Nah, it's okie. Thanks babes."

Terezi's stare is both confident and challenging as she slides the folder over to you. You take it and study the contents. Young girl missing from a local college, NYCU. 5'8, blond hair, blue eyes, 164 lbs. So. Pretty much every white girl on this half of the continent. Missing for a week, was reported so after three days because her room-mate thought she was just 'at a party.' A part of you is irked by that. The boyfriend, father, and most of the floor she resided on had been interviewed. Very few results/leads. 

"Okie. So, what I'm getting from this," the waitress brings you over a soda, and you feel mildly embarrassed by the fact that you don't remember what soda tastes like without alcohol in it. "is that the police haven't done much, um, canvassing? Yet?" 

[tankedgnostalgia-blog]

clueless

[tereziscourgepyrope-deactivated]

SO TH3 1NFORM4T1ON YOU H4V3 B33N G1V3N M4K3S L1TTL3 TO NO S3NS3, 4ND YOU 4R3 M4K1NG GU3SS3S 4ND 4SK1NG QU3ST1ONS HOP1NG TO PROD 4DD1T1ON4L 1NFORM4T1ON OUT OF YOUR 1NFORM4NT 4R3 YOU G3TT1NG 4 F33L FOR TH1NGS Y3T B3C4US3 YOU SHOULD B3

4LR1GHT M33T M3 4T TH3 M4D1SON SQU4R3 D1N3R ON 3DG3CUMB BOUL3V4RD 4ND 1 W1LL 4NSW3R YOUR QU3ST1ONS

[tankedgnostalgia-blog]

a-so, sensei. 

brt.

> Call down to the motor-pool, tell them to get your limo ready. Because fuck driving, you started your day with three margaritas. Last night's dreams were not particularly kind. 

> Welp. If sidekickery is the thing...pantsuit. Yes. You take out your favorite red one, slide it on and run to the phone when it rings. (Almost trip over your own damn stockings) "Your car is ready, ma'am." Inform them you'll be down in ten. It's really twenty, because you're paranoid mouthwash won't make the scent of alcohol go away. Perfume helps. 

> You sit in the car, tell the driver the address, and lean back on the cool leather of the seat. Now what the hell did Terezi have in store for you? It's stupid how nervous you are. Soon, the limo pulls to a soft stop, and the chauffeur opens your door. Tell him to wait around until you return. Trotting into the diner, you wave off the hostess when you spy a tell-tale pair of red glasses. 

> Sliding into the booth across from her with a show of ease you aren't feeling, you grin and ask, "Whats up, babes?"

[tankedgnostalgia-blog]

clueless

[tereziscourgepyrope-deactivated]

1 4M 4SSUM1NG YOU N33D 4NOTH3R CLU3

[tankedgnostalgia-blog]

okie. so, we're dealing with music, I guess

i think the first thing might have been a record cover

it kinda looks familiar

neway 

bruce springsteen, the coliseum...um

hhhhhffff

musical chairs?

New Jersey? 

wow this is not helping me

man, just put some code in front of me

that i can figure out

[tankedgnostalgia-blog]

terezi gives me a cluu

  ...k

hm. 's a kitty, wearing a shirt, i fink.

or a skull guy

is this like one of those inkblot tests?

it looks high as fuck

the teeth look like they mite spell out mip, wip, mik, or wik not sure

there's like, letters by the top, bogg

lotsa indecipherable stuff in the background

did u have dave help u with this b/c holy shit it looks like one of his pictures

i am thinking wayyy to hard about this aren't i

all i wanted was some freakin pancakes

k. cat skull thing in a shitty sweater

 babes idk, i'm going to the catskills n i better bring a sweater?

[pr0cess0r]

when pe0ple vaguebl0g ab0ut y0u.

[tankedgnostalgia-blog]

aww bby who's talkin crap about u? 

[tankedgnostalgia-blog]

brb mun stuff

be on later tonite!

[tankedgnostalgia-blog]

PI DETECTIVE BUDDYYYYYYY

[tereziscourgepyrope-deactivated]

C4N STUFF 1NCLUD3 BR34KF4ST

NOBODY C4N CONV1NC3 M3 TH4T BR34KF4ST 1S NOT TH3 B3ST D1NN3R

[tankedgnostalgia-blog]

OMF. yus. lemme know when and where bby. :3