❝ 𝘏𝘦𝘺, that's a collectible Ad! ❞

"Squealers are a prime suspect, and a priceless artifact is missing. Well...while I think it's a bummer you've done the best you can sir. You can entrust Brok to find out exactly what's going on." Jack says, resting a cheek in his palm, idly tacing circles on the desk.

"So when we find and capture these squealers or whoever is suspected from the footage— do you want us to make them squeal what they know by slowly breaking their fingers or...stabbing them somewhere non-vital so they can still talk? Electrocuting them? Is eletrocution okay? Is hurting them acceptable in finding out information sir?" Jack asks innocently like he's asking about the weather.

❝ What on earth are you going on about? ❞ Wes was caught off guard, Pork's new therapist was suggesting an immediate swerve into police brutality.

  ⸻

While Brok appreciated that Jack had taken the heat off of him by means of being the most unhinged thing in the room, the dog was still, for all intents and purposes, embarrassing him in front of his boss.

❝ Worst case scenario Wes, you saw what happened with Sin Silver, we need to prepare for anything and everything. ❞

❝ BY GETTING US IN HOT WATER WITH CHARGES OF POLICE BRUTALITY!!?? ❞

"I'mmmm more than sure Pork-I mean BROK, is taking this very seriously sir. He just uses humor as a means of coping with highly stressful/dire situations or the poor guy will be absolutely twisted in knots ruminating. It's something we're working through to find a healthy balance." He says, completely hamming up the therapy talk to this poor otter.

❝ Security Tribots were on guard at the time, unfortunately the thieves were able to somehow incapacitate their cameras. ❞

❝ Regardless, I'll be forwarding any footage we can salvage to your phone Pork. ❞

 ❝ PLEASE be sure to actually look through it. ❞

❝ .... ❞ —Wes said that as if he knew Brok was bad with reading his texts and responding in a timely manner, Brok had kinda been banking on the fact he had less casual texts with Wes than he did with either Graff or Shay.

 ❝ I'm counting on you Pork! Don't disappoint me. ❞

❝ Wait... , Jack has a point, that's still not a lot of information to go off of. ❞

As they walk to the office, the mention of that name makes Jack slightly falter, "Lia?" He intially whispers to himself, a brow raised in initial response.

However, he suddenly straightens up, and watches as Brok takes a seat and pulls out for him.

How Gallant!

"Thank you Brok." Jack nods, as he sits down—his gaze going to the old otter hybrid.

"Yeah. The Lia case. I can't discuss the details, but me and Brok have been making great progress in coping with that situation." Jack smiles sheepishly to the hybrid.

Wes supposed that tracked... if Pork had a therapist now, why wouldn't he tell that therapist about the Lia case?

The case has been a dead end for over 5 years. A damn therapist wasn't going to find answers. All it was going to do is help Pork through his "grieving process".

There was a blackout, massive data lost, hundreds of Drumers lives other than Brok effected by what happened that day, and yet all Brok could put his unis (money) towards was his own self care?

  ⸻

❝ As you know, precious items have been stolen from the Atlasian History Museum. The items in question, our museum's Tamed Earthian exhibit. ❞

 ❝ Tamed Earthian exhibit? ❞

❝ Fossils Pork, dating back to -1,000,000 B.R.

Fundamental to understanding the very foundation of our history. ❞

❝ Didn't know you were such a history nut Wes. ❞

"Greetings there! I'm Jack Kibou! Crisis Counselor of...." He's about to say Hell, but...should he scared this poor old guy with that?

"Of Atlasia? Here in the heart of the slums!" He says before straightening his suit.

"And I'm accompanying Brok today, to.....help monitor his progress, with staying organized and uh....working on his responses to stressful situations and such." He smiles, total good lie on the spot.

The fake devil horns were unexplainable though.

❝ I should of expected a therapist would find their way to Pork eventually. ❞ —said the old otter.

Brok folded his arms, having a problem with Wes's response simple as it may have been.

❝ That's cruel ya'know? You were on Lia's case. You know what I've been through. ❞

❝ Just an observation. No need to get sensitive. ❞ Wes was quick to deflate Brok's criticisms.

❝ Please follow me to my office, the both of you. ❞ Wes turned and walked back towards where he had initially came.

Wes's office had the familiar silver and purple hues characteristic of The Drums, Brok took a seat in front of Wes's desk.

Knowing Jack wouldn't be familiar with this room, Brok silently pulled out a mobile (wheeled) chair for the dog to sit on.

-- " Erm.. Sorry. " He muttered. He didn't sound sorry, nor did he care to.

He raised an eyebrow as Brok flexed his bicep, rolling his eyes in response. Ozzy's old enough ( no he's not ) to know when something is fake. That's clearly a costume, who's this stranger trying to fool? He's not a gullible little kid anymore! ( yes he is )

First of all, —how would he fake muscle?

❝ I'm serious, I used to be a boxer in fight pits. ❞ Illegal fight pits, now that Brok was a law enforcer (vigilante) he doesn't do that anymore.

❝ It's ok if you don't believe me, I mean I have put on a couple pounds since then. ❞ Other than the extra weight he's put on, he'd like to think he's nowhere out of his prime.

The words stuck in his brain a bit. How does one explain this..

"Well, of course I have seen crocodilians before, but none quite so... unique, as yourself."

A light flush dusted his cheeks immediately as the words passed his lips, embarrassment evident on the Rabbi's face. His hand quickly made to gently cover his lips, a desperate attempt to regain decorum of some sort. "Oh, that was probably so rude, I'm so sorry-"

❝ Name's Brok, —and don't sweat it, even among gators I've got a unique look, it's the detective hat and trench coat. ❞

❝ I'm a detective, for the right price I'm willing to solve whatever case you can throw at me, missing persons, stolen goods, murder. ❞

Nothing was off the table for Brok the InvestiGator.

It was a normal evening in the town of St.Louis. The time was around the 1920’s; Prohibition Era. A certain blue-clad tabby was out on a street corner, trying to get money by way of playing his violin; hoping those near him would lend a few bits of pocket change.

The street light halos him in fluorescence. He smiles a toothy grin, happy to lend his virtuosity to those refined or composed enough to understand it.

This individual in question is named Roark Rickaby; otherwise nicknamed “Rocky” by those fortunate—or unfortunate— that know him. And usually, Rocky is one to get into antics or hijinks more so befitting a vaudeville stage act or a cartoon than anyone serious in nature.

Before he knew it, he was riding the good vibes all the way to Rocky's location, a smile creases his toothy jaws, as he eventually found the source of the extravagant violin piece.

 ❝ Encore! ❞ —said Brok, tapping his foot.

Brok deposited 60 Unis to the cat to pay for his encore, the currency of his home country of Atlasia, and enough money to buy 3 Pampalos Fruits back at home.

Two different SAGE demoes about Crocodalians!? I must be in heaven

"Rebirth....day?" He repeats to himself, taking in the information revealed about this universe.

This world was thrust into such chaos...? He rubs his chin silently in thought now.

"That's quite troubling...I still don't think shutting themselves in this hamster ball is any good long-term solution, not when there's still people OUTSIDE of it." He mentions, slowly thinking of the disparity between the two classes of citizens.

❝ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴀ sᴇᴀᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏʙʙʏ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟᴇғᴛ ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ᴄʜɪᴇғ ᴡᴇs ᴄᴀɴ sᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜ. ❞

 ❝ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀ ᴅʀɪɴᴋ? ❞

The Tribot would have displayed beverage options, but before Jack could make any decision on what drink he wanted, footsteps could be heard coming from the back of the APD and getting closer.

❝ There you are Pork. ❞ Wes seemed to walk out his office as soon as Jack mentioned him.

❝ You're on time? ❞ Wes had never known Brok to be so punctual.

❝ Course I'm on time Wes, this is important. ❞ Brok smiled sheepishly.

"Thanks, mister... but I coulda handled it. Trust me, I'm proficient in hand-to-hand combat if push came to shove, ya know?" It wasn't like Jonathan was UNAPPRECIATIVE of Brok's interference of two thugs who thought they could get the upper hand of Jonathan being poised as a 'tourist'. Jonathan dressed a little TOO well for this part of town which is why they came after him the way they did. Jonathan brushes at his long coat and jeans.

Brok was very angry on the deer's behalf. ❝ Those were Squealers, nothing but no-good gangsters. ❞ Those rats.... they thought they could mug this stranger and get away with it.

❝ —Did they take any of your belongings? We can get them back! ❞ Brok's sense of justice fueled his anger, silently he complied with Jonathan to walk while talking, but with all of this adrenaline coursing through the big reptile's veins, it was more like a power walk.

I love the game and its characters so I made a drawing of the protagonist.