(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]

You ask a lotta questions. [Harding's tone is matter-of-fact, not cruel. He swirls his cup a bit, looking down at it.] Are you that bored?

[hoshikiri]

[A photo, years old and poor in quality, children donning costumes as they were during the month of 'October.' An image committed to memory.

Even as he looked up to see himself staring down a handgun's barrel with a hasty breath through his nose and a quickly forming scowl. Given he was wearing a hood much of his horns and scales were hidden behind it and his hair, but the smallest flash of some sharp teeth were visible when he opened his mouth to breathe.

He didn't dispute. He dropped the wallet back on the floor, hands still steady and being risen in fashion of surrender. He logged what he needed in his mind and prepared excuses, lies, should they be necessary.]

I mean you no harm.

[m1895]

[ Vasiliy shrugs, equally nonchalant. ]

Maybe. I am EMT with one hour before shift.

[ But at least he's not fearful, now that he's eased himself into a position in which he maintains some level of control. He's establishing himself with this guy, with the powers that are, and that's going to be critical in the coming months. The fact that this man, enemy though he may be, has been superficially more pleasant to him than any of the civilians in this shitty little microcosm of a Capitalist oligarchy doesn't hurt, either—Harding's brusque and antisocial, but the vague decency that he does show seems to be genuine. He looks too tired to pretend, and like the kind of person pretending would take enormous effort for.

Vasiliy ashes what's left of his cigarette and goes for a second, pausing when he starts to habitually return his cigarette case to the breast pocket of his button-down. ]

You smoke?

[helloneighbor]

[Harding sighs.]

It's Vasiliy, right? [He says this in a tone that says he's asking himself, not Visily.] Look, you're a nice guy, but... Word of advice?

[He takes another drink of coffee, a bit longer than the first sip.]

Just go home. Go home and go to sleep. Or clean your bathroom. [With a flippant tilt of his chin:] Whatever you do at night.

[helloneighbor]

I believe you.

[He doesn't. The way Takame looks doesn't make Harding bat an eye. Either that or he's a incredibly good actor. His sunglasses slip down his nose, his eyes like cold steel, and he speaks in a flat, even tone. He doesn't sound the least bit drunk.

He starts to edge himself upright and lean forward, both hands still on the gun, still aiming between Takame's eyes. As he moves, he gives his head a little jerk to the right.]

Move. [I won't say it again, that tone says.]

[m1895]

[ Taking that as a no, Vasiliy slips the cigarette case back into his breast pocket and speaks around the one in his mouth, turning the wheel of the butane lighter in his other hand with a faintly yellowed fingernail. ] Work, mostly. Hospitals are always busy.

[ But he gets the general drift. After that first drag, he removes his cigarette for a moment and takes several sips from his own coffee in rapid succession, then gets out his wallet and puts a few coins on the counter: payment for both of their drinks and a pretty decent tip for a place that doesn't require them.

The poor girls need it, working in a job like that in the United States. ]

I hope you get sleep too, Mr. Harding. You have tiring job.

[helloneighbor]

[Vasiliy leaves, sweeping by like none of this is the least bit surprising. It's the best outcome Harding could hope for. The longer Vasiliy sticks around, the harder it'll get to talk to him. That could've gone worse, but it could have gone better, Harding decides as as he turns back to his coffee.

But at least there's one silver lining in his shitty cloud: Vasiliy didn't ask how Harding knew his name.]

[hoshikiri]

[Takame's given Harding no reason not to believe him thus far. The look Takame is given is reflected right back at the officer, not the look one should have when having a gun pointed at his head. Unphased, like this was the last thing that would strike fear into his cold heart.

The tone was heeded regardless. Without putting his hands down, he moved in the direction Harding gestured to, never taking his eyes off the man while doing so and making no other sudden movements.]

[helloneighbor]

Yeah, yeah. [That's it. Harding puts himself up on one knee as he slowly picks himself up and out of the car, using the promise of the gun to get Takame to give him some room to get out.

Once he's on his feet outside, his eyes flick quickly down at the ground. His wallet sits by his foot; it must've been knocked over on his way out.]

Did you open that?

[hoshikiri]

... Open? [His equally even tone didn't shift as he feigned ignorance and his eyes also flicked briefly to the wallet he did, in fact, open. Then they locking onto Harding again.]

Hm. So that is what that I felt. [No noticeable change in his tone as he voiced the lie. The way his voice trailed off could almost imply a bit of surprise, as if he wasn't aiming to open or even touch it at all.]

[helloneighbor]

You've got some balls lying with a gun in your face.

[It's not even a very good lie. Harding awoke to a scaly man trying to stick his arm in Harding's window, straining and stretching to reach the wallet on the passenger seat. He'd stayed still, continuing to breathe slowly, his shades dark enough to hide his eyes as he watched Takame's fingers scrabble at the wallet.]

Was it really worth it? [He sincerely doubts it and makes no attempt at hiding it.]

[hoshikiri]

Hmph. [A poor lie it may be, it was also an effective test. Exposed Takame may be, he's gotten information out of this encounter. And despite the threatening words, his tone didn't falter.

Though displeasure towards said threat was clear in his twitching tail hidden under his coat.]

I'll not blame you for your suspicion, ser. But I assure you this: I mean you no harm or ill intent otherwise. [That much was true. He didn't attack Harding, had no weapons on him (not that he needed them), and hasn't lowered his arms at all since this began.] 'Twas merely the actions of a citizen concerned about the immobile officer in his vehicle. [Also the truth, if three quarters of it.]

[righthandstand]

[He could stay and get arrested or whatever, but like hell he'd do that. And the guy's drunk. What's he gonna do?]

Three second head start? Got it!

[Sorry, but he's running down the street laughing.]

[helloneighbor]

[Harding was expecting that and yet he wasn't. He almost tackles Okuyasu and winds up with an armful of air and a hard pang in his side.]

You little fuck—

[Wait, why is he doing this again? He's the chief of police. He has methods, for goodness sake.]

Chew on this.

[He narrows his eyes at Okuyasu, who's about halfway across the street by now, and snaps his fingers. Mentally, he has the kid all lined up for a stage three Tranquilization, but as groggy and hungover as Harding is right now, it doesn't click. Instead, unbeknownst to both of them, he hits Okuyasu with a whopping stage five. A force sweeps over Okuyasu's mind, wiping out every bit of resistance and emotion — every part of him that makes Okuyasu Okuyasu — like a strong, calming wave. Like flicking a light switch off.]

[helloneighbor]

Harm this.

[Harding takes one hand off his gun. Snaps his fingers sharply. The sound strikes Takame's head like a gavel.

It happens in the blink of an eye — an invisible force washes over Takame's brain, obliterating his suspicion, deceit, and every ounce of negativity in his body. All that's left is innocent and overwhelming happiness as the third stage of Tranquilization takes effect.]

Go home. And if I catch you nosing around here again, you're not getting off so easy.

[righthandstand]

Woah!

[This guy's fast! Okuyasu dashes away from the Harding's failed attempt to grab him, but it seems that he's in the clear. Sure, he'll forever have his reputation ruined, but that's the life of a delinquent! Besides, it's not like the people in charge of keeping him away from home don't deserve any of this-

There's a sharp pain in his back, and for a moment, Okuyasu worries that he got shot. Before he can even wonder if he ever heard a gunshot, he just

slows down

and realizes that he forgot his errand!]

Golly, where was I going again?

[Didn't his dad ask him to stop by the drugstore? Why does he feel tired? No wait, he was helping his good ol' pa with the yard.

He turns back, rolling his shoulders and ready to stop by the store before going back home, only to see that the chief of police is standing right there. What are the chance?

Even if some people call him a bullheaded boy, he does have some basic manners.] Morning, Officer Harding.

[hoshikiri]

[THANKS FOR NOTHING HYDAELYN

The moment "harm" was uttered, fight-- was the following thought. One that didn't get to finish before his head felt split wide open...

open...

Open... home... at home... there was mail. Oh heavens, he hasn't checked the mail in a few days, has he? He must have so much of it to open. Well, he was the man of the house, after all. From a sharp forming snarl a moment ago to a beaming smile, Takame looked at his wrist as if he wore a watch and waved Harding goodbye.]

Ah, would you look at the time! I'd best head home after all. Good talking to you, officer.

[feudalladyshandmaid]

[Snrk. Okay. Of all the ways that could have gone, that was easily the most amusing.]

Afternoon, officer Harding, right? [Cass smiles, as though the last few seconds didn't happen. She's not amused, not at all.] You look like you're pretty hard at work.