#percivalqueen

“Ex-fuckin’--scuse me?” Oh! She’s not amused by that line. “Okay, FIRST OFF, Eyebrows--” How the fuck did you even find her. “Ah’ don’t fancy m’self as some god or some shit, fuckin’ hell, where did THAT come from??”

@percival-queen​

Giovanni dials the Sweet Jazz Police tip line.

He’s not an idiot, trying to just find her at the police station would definitely get him arrested.

There’s no guaranteeing that this wouldn’t get him arrested as well.

He shakes his head and raises the phone to his ear as it rings.

It rings..

This is a stupid idea.

It rings...

click.

“Uh. Uhm. I gotta tip?” He tries to make his voice sound lower. To at least try and disguise his identity. “About that uh. That Giovanni Potage kid youse been lookin’ for. He’s in that old abandoned playground off That Road and Tenth Street. But uh- You should only send one officer. He. He looks really jumpy. Like he might run if he hears sirens, you got that?”

God he was a sucker...

“Just send one cop and uh... ya know... don’t spook him. Or he’ll run. I mean. Or it looks like he will. bye.” He mashes the hang up button and then resists the urge to throw the phone on the ground.

“Officer King. Been a while.” Howie nods.

(( Starter for @percival-queen ))

Sweet Jazz University! A place of learning and academia, with both Mundie and Inscribed students enrolling in their selected courses to one day become the working forces for the future. Today was a Career Day of sorts, with all sorts of companies and such putting their best foot forward to entice bright young minds into making that future with them.

Nona, who was currently studying astronomy and had a faint idea of what to do with her life, now stood before the dozens upon dozens of options available to her. It...almost made her dizzy, in a way, but also really excited. Back home, there was only just ONE set path for her.

But here? So many choices--so many paths she could take. It felt...felt really good.

Her hands fiddled with a red string of yarn as she passed by the various booths that riddled the halls. A rather large one with blue and yellow caught her attention, music notes lining the table alongside dozens of pamphlets and pencils.

Protect and Serve. Join the Sweet Jazz City Police Force.

“Oh.” Nona tilted her head to one side, picking up a pamphlet to read over. She thought this was a music related booth at first. She couldn’t actually see herself as a law enforcement officer, really--not with her condition, and certainly not with her Epithet. She flips through the pamphlet anyway, though, out of curiosity...

 Percy was logging her office hours at the station, organizing case files and taking non-emergency phone calls from citizens. Normally she was able to get smoothly into the flow of work, but today something distracted her. Every few minutes, she glanced up, and there was the strange redhead who'd been pacing around the front of the station for at least half an hour now. Percy wasn't supposed to approach citizens while on the clock, but why did she look so distressed...?

It was supposed to be Lynne’s first day of work, but she was still nervous, pacing around the station and trying to calm down. It’s going to be okay! Detective Jowd and Inspector Cabanela would be there to be help her, so why was she so nervous? It’s just then she notices the cool-looking woman staring at her that she stops on her tracks.

Where are we going where are we going where are we going--

The sundial hunter needs to move, needs to vent this stupid ENERGY off somewhere--and she was more than glad to do just that, putting all of her frustrations into the one thing she knows how to do--and do WELL.

Hunting.

Hunting? Oh. Oh no--please don’t hurt him--!

“Shut up.” She says again, finally tracking down the damn hide-y hole he’s picked this time to sulk around. If this magic thing had swapped around her Epithet, then the RAT has Sundial.

If it wasn’t such an important tool that Bliss Ocean still needed and something that she quite LITERALLY needs to live, as much as it hurts to face that fact, she would have let the damn rat keep it for a few weeks. Would have definitely made things interesting if it wasn’t for that fact that she kept GOLDING and ungolding things to keep venting out all this fake--fake joy--

Remembering things that still stung fresh in her mind, being stuck with this literal BABY that wouldn’t STAY QUIET--

“RAMSEY! Ah’ KNOW yer in here with mah STUPID EPITHET--yew’d better nawt have DUSTED yerself, yew jackhole--!”

She doesn’t bother to be subtle, practically swinging up the window so hard it would have CRACKED--were it not for the fact that it had been partially golded. She shimmers in MOLTEN anger, but not from the sun--no, from the bits of gold in her hair and around her hands and boots.

“Ah’ hate this, FUCK--don’t fuckin’ RUN, yew piece of shit, or ah’ SWEAR--”

                               [ ( { THE REDWOOD TRIO } ) ]

@percival-queen / @goldbricker-ramsey / @sundialhunter