(open) you're gonna need a heap of glue when they all catch up with you

[helloneighbor]

Who: Chief of Police Dale Harding and YOU
When: January 16th — February 1st
Where: Throughout town
What: Santa Rosita's very dignified chief of police makes some very dignified appearances around town, meeting and greeting some very undignified people.
Warnings: Language, alcohol abuse, one man's poor life choices.



[Interesting fact: Approximately 25-30% of drinkers are resistant to hangover symptoms.

Dale Harding is not in that percentage.

Santa Rosita's chief of police is certainly an elusive figure. Many of you likely haven't seen him since the Christmas gala. In fact, as you go about your business today, running errands throughout Shadyside and Santa Rosita, you might even miss him altogether. But once you notice the 5'7 man with his unbuttoned sleeve cuffs and distinct lack of service jacket or hat that would mark him as an officer, save for the shiny silver badge pinned to his belt along with the holstered handgun, it's difficult to ignore him. He doesn't look like the other police officers you've seen around town with their plastic smiles and neatly pressed suits. For starters, he doesn't smile at all — and that's not likely to change no matter what he's doing and where you see him.

Harding doesn't keep morning hours, so you're more likely to spot him in the afternoon and at night. Most of the time, you'll see him slowly driving through Shadyside in his police cruiser. Occasionally, he'll be parked in front of Santa Rosita Elementary, always at lunchtime, watching the kids play at recess with his flask to his lips. Other times, you'll see him parked in Rose Garden Park, lying back in the front seat with his sunglasses on. You don't realize it yet, but this will all make sense when you get closer and notice, perhaps not inconspicuously, the string of drool trailing from his lips.

And yet, rarest of all, you'll see him on foot in North Santa Rosita. In the morning and at night, he'll go to the Blue Moon Diner, the bell over the door jingling as he walks in and takes a seat at the counter. Ordering a cheeseburger and coffee, he'll sit silently waiting for his food with his elbows on the table, his fingers laced, pressing his forehead into his hands.

Surely this is the best time to say hello!

ooc: The mods will respond to tags for Harding until February 1st. Please try to keep your interactions with him brief! He is a busy man, after all.]

Comments

[helloneighbor]

[Harding shakes his head, forcing himself to smile as if he's being held at gunpoint.]

Just parts.

[He drops the burger back onto the plate, a gooey mess of cheese and ketchup. Yuck.]

Much as I love talking about dead kids and your little league cop club, it's not how I want to spend my break. Is there something you want, Mister Wayne?

[helloneighbor]

[That actually gets Harding to look at him. Sunlight gleams on his dark lenses as he turns to stare directly at Dean.]

Gee I'm sorry! [he replies JUST AS LOUDLY. Then, as if he's just gotten a great idea, he points between between his flask, the steering wheel, and Dean.] Do— do you want to take over for me?

[the_caped_crusader]

No, I should be getting back to it anyway.

[ he smiles again politely towards the waitress and stands up without ceremony, stopping only briefly close to harding's side, voice low so the waitress won't bother. ]

Then again, we have another nine months until October 23rd, 1961, don't we? But it's interesting that you remember anyway. I'll be sure to keep that in mind.

[ without waiting for response, bruce walks towards the door, and stops briefly only to glances back once more before he leaves. ]

I don't think you'll find any razors in that burger, Dale. Looks like you're okay this time around. But try and have a safe night anyway.

[righteously]

( Harding parrots back his volume, and Dean's expression goes flat and unimpressed. I know you are but what am I. )

Sure, pal. I'll take the flask while we're at it. Scooch over.

( He'll climb on in right the hell now, Harding can co-pilot them straight to AA.

One useful thing he's gleaning here — dude's not like his happy, friendly neighbors or the deadeyes that orbit them from time to time. That's... something. Probably. )

Rose Garden Park

[feudalladyshandmaid]

[After a considerable amount of time in this place, Cassandra's come to understand the workings of it far better than she had upon waking up for the first time. Barring a few mess-ups with the latest technology, of course. One thing in particular that clicked rather quickly was the local police; really, they were just another kind of royal guard. Law keepers.

Besides the general... wariness about the state of things, Cass had an interest in that. After all, she'd been a guard... almost. At one point, anyway.

Which leads to her slowly approaching the car parked in front of Rose Garden, unsure of what to really expect before she peers in through a window.

...Just like the guards. Time for a quick rap of her knuckles against the glass.]

blue moon diner! let harding eat one meal in peace 2k21

[undiagnosed]

[archer was not tailing harding and honestly? has not thought about him since that christmas... whatever it was. party? no, can't call it that. gathering. cult gathering. that feels right. he fully had not expected to see the police chief again until-- well, he's not sure, actually. he's been too busy getting blackout drunk (mood, bro) to actually start planning on how to deal with any of this.

that was lucky, archer thinks as he buys his own coffee and recognises harding, even for me. i think.

he unceremoniously flops down into the opposite seat, purposefully angling his cane under the table so it'll get in the way if harding wants to get up (that one's just out of spite) and takes his own flask out to pour in his coffee.]

Speak, asshole.

[chromiums]

[ it's not a jell-o mold or an enormous breakfast platter so it stood out as out of the ordinary. there's also his posture and overall demeanor that give him away as not quite fitting in with the rest of the townsfolk; a lack of relentless cheerfulness that's both a relief and suspicious.

she's got a little while before her order is ready, so she takes a seat beside the man, regarding him with folded arms and narrowed eyes. ]

Smart man, especially since it looks like the night didn't end that way. Something happen in town?

North Santa Rosita

[purplejaguareye]

[Luckily, Kipo isn't in her cat form today. She does see him walking around, and thinks to herself "ohh, he looks like he's doing something important!" so naturally she has to interrupt.]

Hey! What cha doing?

[helloneighbor]

[As it turns out, today is one of the few days where Harding isn't stuck in his car or trawling around the Blue Moon. Instead, he's out and about on foot, in the middle of a conversation with an employee of Greene's Groceries when Kipo comes up to them. The employee — a teen in a green apron — tilts his head as Harding looks over his shoulder, following the voice down. He relaxes (though not by much) when he sees who it belongs to.]

[To Kipo:] Working. Busy, important police stuff. [And then, to the teen:] I'll come back later. An hour sound good?

Oh gee, Mister Harding, it won't take THAT long to make.

[Harding waves the teen off.]

It's fine. I can wait.

never

[helloneighbor]

[Harding looks at Archer out of the corner of his eye, watching him practically make himself at home in the next seat.]

Little too close for comfort there, bud. [He sounds calm, looking at Archer's flask like he's talking to it more than Archer.]

😔

[undiagnosed]

Yeah? I can get Glenn Close-r... shit, that sounded better in my head. Shut up.

[he finishes mixing his irish coffee, pocketing the flask after noting harding's line of sight.]

Okay, now un-shut up and... [he waves a hand.] you know. Say something and I might share. Maybe.

[he won't. you'd think the "world's greatest secret agent" would be better at intelligence gathering, huh?]

[helloneighbor]

[There's the impression of a chuckle in Harding's voice, but he's not smiling.]

When does it ever? [He plucks a fry off his plate, but he doesn't eat it. Instead, he prods and pokes at a glob of ketchup off to the side as he talks to Lorna.] This might come as a surprise to you, but I'm not a morning person.

[helloneighbor]

What?

[He points to one ear, looking perplexed as he yells at Dean. With the window as a barrier between them, one can only imagine how loud he'd be without it.]

Can't hear you! I said, do you want to take over? [He enunciates each word.]

[helloneighbor]

[You wouldn't know by the look on his face, but Harding's enjoying the silence. When Vasiliy speaks up again, he exhales silently. There are worse ways to make small talk.]

Well, we get paid more than they do. So. [He studies his coffee, his lips thin.] Could be worse.

[helloneighbor]

[At Archer's first command, Harding raises an eyebrow. By the second one, he's resting his chin in his hand, watching Archer stir his coffee. Without breaking eye contact, he dips a hand into his pocket and pulls out his own flask to show to Archer, giving it a little shake.]

'Something.' [His tone is flat. He puts the flask back in his pocket.] Try again.

[helloneighbor]

[The sound startles Harding awake. He jerks up with a snort, then a groan when he hits his forehead against the windshield. Forget falling asleep in the park — falling asleep in a car is so much worse.

A few moments and a whole lot of head rubbing and swearing later, he notices Cass. He rolls the window down, just a crack.]

Yes? [He's not annoyed. He's not annoyed at all.]

[undiagnosed]

Oh, for shit's sake... [he mutters to himself.] Okay, yeah, I should've guessed that.

[his spoon clinks against the mug. archer looks away from harding to some of the other people milling around the place. part of him expects them to freak out at the same time when something doesn't fit, pleasantville style.]

Are you doing sweeping performance reviews back at the department? Because your whole chickenshit outfit didn't seem to give one rat's ass between them about that elficidal epidemic a couple weeks back. Full offense, [he takes a long drink.] but every single one of your cops sucks at their job.

[righteously]

( Dean is a grown ass man. Dean is 36 years old, and you can slap another 40 years in hell on top of that if you're feeling frisky. Dean just came from a year long stint in Purgatory where it was non-stop 360 degree combat, requiring the most elite composure on the planet.

Dean is also an immature child who will 10/10 stoop to somebody else's level if he's irritated — which he is. So. )

ABSOLUTELY. PUT ME IN, COACH. LET'S DO THIS.

( He goes so hard when he plays chicken. )

[helloneighbor]

[There's not much to be found inside Harding's car. There's the man himself, sleeping with his flask held close to his stomach, a golden band on his ring finger, but not much else of interest. His handgun is holstered at his hip. Unlike the strange guns wielded by the other police officers, his is an actual gun. Other than that, there are no other weapons in the car.

On the floor next to the passenger seat, visible only if you were to be looking on that side, is something small and square and dark: a black wallet.]

[helloneighbor]

[There's not much to be found inside Harding's car. There's the man himself, sleeping with his flask held close to his stomach, a golden band on his ring finger, but not much else of interest. His handgun is holstered at his hip. Unlike the strange guns wielded by the other police officers, his is an actual gun. Other than that, there are no other weapons in the car.

Harding's snoring drowns out the softer noise Takame makes. Looks like you're going to need to be a little less polite and a little more loud if you want to get his attention.]

[helloneighbor]

[A few children in the schoolyard stop playing and look directly at them. That's right — Dean is so loud he can be heard across the street.]

STILL CAN'T HEAR YOU.

[Harding twirls a finger around his ear, every bit the picture of apologetic.]

YOU WANT TO CALL IT QUITS? HO-KAY, WELL, IF YOU CHANGE YOUR MIND—

[ribticklers]

[The other cops have cooler guns, just for the record.

Sans circles the car and takes notice of the wallet. It could definitely be Harding's--tossing a wallet onto the floor of your car is probably like the least concerning thing someone drunk can do in a car--but it could be worthwhile, too... Well, Sans has an easy way to grab it, so he'll at least take a look.

Sans will grab the wallet with his blue magic, holding it completely still for a moment just to make sure Harding isn't able to sense it somehow--Sans can just drop it immediately if he wakes up. But assuming Harding is still asleep, he'll just maneuver that wallet out of the open window to take a look at it.]

[helloneighbor]

[For their part, the rest of the diner's patrons are too engrossed in their own little worlds to pay much attention to what's going on at the counter. It helps that Harding doesn't raise his voice or look particularly angry. Just weary and a little exasperated.]

Is this a formal complaint or are you here to annoy me? [He says that like he already knows the answer.]

[righteously]

( And there's the picture of sheer frustration, because...

Like, how do you even top that.

He'll concede the battle, but not the war. Deputy Smartass gets the one-finger salute, and one bow-legged retreat.

To the police station.

Where he's putting in a job application. Does he expect to get it? No. He just wants to talk real loud during the interview. )

[undiagnosed]

Eh. Little column A, little column B. [he finishes his drink - he doesn't intend to stay much longer. gun to his head, archer would never admit that harding's stonewalling is actually making him want to leave the guy alone and do something else.] Guess I could talk to the Mayor about it. Ass backwards town like this, can't imagine his schedule will be rammed all the time.