maskormenacelogs | [Open] - An Old Hard-boiled Eccentric Detective and You

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[Open] - An Old Hard-boiled Eccentric Detective and You

WHO: Hank and you (if you want a closed prompt, contact me at

pixle
WHERE: Most Maurita Falls
WHEN: For the rest of the month
WHAT: A grumpy old man, his dog and possibly you
WARNINGS: If you don't like swearing please do not join this log because over 20% of Hank's word diet is swearing. Also a closed prompt involves cannibals

OPEN PROMPTS
1- THE RUNNING MAN
There's a man running alongside some of the streets each morning. Truthfully, he doesn't get all that far at this point, but Hank is trying to regain some of his lost energy and body now that he isn't stuck in a cycle of self-pity for himself and has something to look forward too. Granted, there's an odd question in his mind; if it goes back to normal once they returning home, is it worth doing this?

The answer is yes and he knows that, but it still freaks him out to know that he could slim down back to how he was a few years ago and then the minute he left he'd regain all he lost.

"Bark!"

"H-ey I'm supposed to be the one who can't take it anymore, Sumo."

To be fair, Hank hadn't exactly walked Sumo out all that often before this. The dog was a lot like his master.

"Bark?"

"Alright we can take a small break...but not too long, least Connor jumps out of a bush and tells me to keep going or somethin."

Just time to sit on a park bench and people watch for a bit. Perhaps have others walk up to him and ask why he's speaking to his large Saint-Bernard like its people?

2 - ACTION MOVIE
"Hey, hey hey! What the fuck do you think you're doing?!"

The three teenagers with spray-paint - clearly in the middle of their great work of writing "ImPortz Suckz" stop mid-way from the sound of Hank's voice. Having been in the force, Hank knows exactly how he should be speaking to them, but the youths panic and unleash some flashbombs they had in their bags before taking off. One youth flies off into the sky thanks to the device he's built, the other uses a flamethrower to aim them directly towards Hank, and the last one brings out a sub machine-gun. If he wasn't being attacked, Hank would find this entire scenario ridiculously and right out of an action movie. Fucking overkill.

He might need a bit of help.

3 - WILDCARD
((If you have another idea, just start it out below and I'll tag back!))

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The problem when you have a talking dog is it can let you know exactly what type of food it is interested in. And honestly, Sumo admitted, Hank needed to change his diet a bit because the food he had back home wasn't all that good for him.

So this is how, even with a few bags of dogfood in his arms, Hank had returned with additional packages of frozen meats he would cut up and feed him later (after watching online guides on how to do it properly). Idly, he had opened up the fridge and was putting what he had bought him; frozen chicken, frozen steak, frozen...meat of some sort, the lady told him it was good for him.

Sumo was very grateful for the chicken, steak and mystery meat. Now all Hank had to do was move a few things away to push them in without breaking them...

"What the shit is this?!"

As he holds out something frozen wondering if he's dreaming or not, Sumo let him know he was certainly not interested in a human arm even if it sort of smelled a bit like bacon. He knew Hank wouldn't like that either.

"Fucking Christ! I can't believe this!"

He needs to go back to his room and send a message.

Jack's still not entirely sure why he had to get a room mate, but he's done his best to stay out of the way and avoid much in the way of interaction so far beyond the occasional monotone greeting. He's done well to avoid confrontation, he doesn't even mind the dog, but what he does mind is people touching his stuff. When you've lived a life of solitude for as many centuries as Jack has, you get a little... possessive. Especially of food.

As Hank retreats to his room, Jack emerges from his own, glancing curiously to the kitchen before slinking after his roomie.

"Hi. What are you doing?"

Deadpan as he lurks in Hank's doorway, head tilted just enough to display curiosity seeing as his expression is relatively unreadable. Still, a bulky guy like Jack blocking your door after finding an arm in the freezer...? Start of a horror movie, right there.

Just enough time for Hank to sneak a little message to Connor as he turns around, still holding the frozen hand.

It might be the start of a horror movie if Hank hadn't some experience at being a cop and not really easily intimidated, especially since he didn't know the other's history. Uneasy? Certainly, especially since he can't get an easy read on the other's emotions. Instantly his mind goes to 'possibly a psychopath' if he's not displaying anything like annoyance or regret.

"Why do we have an arm in the freezer?"

"It's for me."

Leaving that purposefully vague for the moment as his gaze locks onto the frozen limb that Hank's keeping hold of, expression still as blank and monotone as his tone.

"More importantly, why is my arm not currently in the freezer?" Aka why the fuck you playing with his food, Hank? It's really rude to be carrying it around like that.

"It's for you."

He repeats the words to make sure he heard that right.

"Well what the hell did you expect anyone knew to do when they saw a frozen hand in the freezer? I had just come back with food for Sumo." Still, he's going to pass the other by the doorway and go back to the freezer to put it in. For now anyway.

"Not take it out and walk around with it."

Y'know, he's just sayin'. Because SOME people, Hank, would leave it the fuck alone. As Hank moves past, Jack doesn't exactly move out of his way, making it just awkward enough that shoulders are brushed, before trailing just a bit behind to ensure said hand gets put back where it belongs.

"You can put it in the fridge. Needs defrosting anyway."

"I had to check something. I'm sure you know why."

Some people who aren't cops maybe that like to question everything especially FUCKING HUMAN HANDS already confirmed by Connor are actual hands and not props. To his credit he does put the arm in the fridge instead of the freezer.

"Are you eating them? Where the fuck does someone get arms?"

Hank is not going to jump around the bush, it's just his nature to confront things (well more now than before anyway now that his major issues are past him).

Jack's watching Hank like a hawk, head lowered just slightly in a passive sort of defence, like he's ready to pounce or be pounced at any second, but doesn't appear too intent to be the one making a move. It's just... people don't always take his people eating habits very well.

"The morgue, usually. It's food."

The 'usually' part doesn't entirely cover the less legal ways to obtain said food, but Jack's usually pretty good about finding already dead targets for his meals.

"Guess I forgot to warn you about that." He doesn't sound too apologetic.

"Usually?...jesus christ."

He sounds a bit tired but on the edge of what the other might do that he just stands there, finally closing the door (and finishing to stuff the rest of Sumo's food in the freezer). So yeah, Hank does not take people eating habits very well.

"What are you? A cannibal vampire? Shit I can't believe I just asked that and I'm one hundred percent fucking serious about it..."

Edited 2018-08-24 22:36 (UTC)

"I guess. Something like that," he replies with a non committal, lopsided shrug. It's too much effort to explain who or what he is when Jack's never really been entirely sure of that himself. He's just... him, it's hard to put a label on that without providing a lecture on biblical study.

"I'll do my best not to eat you. Don't like to make promises though. We gonna have a problem, you and I?" Because old man tension is fine, but being at each others throats will just set him on the defensive, and it's not great to live with a defensive cannibal vampire guy.

Old man tension is turned up to eleven at the 'do my best'.

"Fuck me...this feels more like I'm stuck in someone's made-up story. You can't just tell someone 'I won't make promises' and then expect them to be okay about it!" Hank was a cop. This may take a while.

At least he hopes that Connor is listening should things go south.

"You gotta do this to live or what?"

Old man tension is enough that Jack is just fine standing awkwardly for now. He'd rather not be sitting if an attack comes, and he sure is paranoid about attacks.

"Kind of. Not to live; that's one thing I never have to worry about." The woes of immortality, but he's still discussing this like it's idle chatter about the weather.

"Sanity, though. It keeps me grounded."

Which sounds a little like crazy talk when you consider he's talking about eating people.

All the cities have a history of unrest, but Maurtia Falls has the most troubled history. It's been hit harder and more often by catastrophic events, too. This month saw flooding, looting, and mass mental influence to incite violence. All of those problems leave lasting effects. The last one especially, there are locals with brand new vendettas for actions taken under the influence. And they're not just going for each other, they're going after imPorts too. The police might be trying--he certainly knows Rex is--but they can't possibly catch everything.

That's why Aegis Force has him patrolling here. Out of armor and not visibly armed unless the situation calls for it, not that he entirely understands the logic. But he's just supposed to call in petty crimes to the MFPD when he sees them. Like the vandals down the street, being yelled at by a gray-haired man. As much as he'd like to get more directly involved, he has his orders. Just document the crime, call the police and let them sort it out. Minimal force at all times.

But those orders only go so far as patrols, not responding to vandals ready to murder passers-by. His powers activate instinctively, white armor popping into existence over his body in an instant, rifle in hand. The one flying away can wait, he's only got a clear view on the one armed with a slugthrower.

He fires a shot, aiming for the weapon itself. Back with the Corps it wouldn't have been worth aiming for a small target like that, sharpshooter medal or no. But whatever bizarre logic runs this place saw fit to give him near-perfect accuracy. The gun goes flying out of the teenager's hands, fouled by the bright red blaster bolt that struck it dead center in the receiver.

That's one disarmed and opened up, but there's still at least one more active hostile aiming to attack a seemingly unarmed man. He doesn't have a clear shot on that one.

So, with his usual approach to self-preservation on full display, he charges in.

Speaking of movies coming to life...Hank is just thankful that he wasn't taking Sumo out for a walk when this happened when things somehow go to (pardon the pun) lightspeed. Everything happens in a flash like in most cases of police shootouts gone wrong; only this time the gun doesn't have time to fire before it's knocked out of the teenager's hands.

Hank doesn't even hesitate, police training and survival instincts falling in place like one's desire to breathe. There's no words exchanged between them, Hank just analyzes what the other has done and works with what he has. With the gun on the floor, a swift kick sends it flying backwards away from both of them, leaving the flamethrower to disarm. The person behind it certainly isn't stopping from the flames rising in the air, but the teenager has really poor aim. Hank tosses the cover of a nearby garbage can--actually scratch that, he tosses the entire garbage can because the damn top wasn't coming off.

His aim isn't amazing, but there's a lot of garbage to go slamming into someone and it makes them fall so that the flamethrower is knocked off as well. As he goes over to pin him against the wall and get the guy's hands behind his back, Hank realizes that he has to be careful, least he break the asshole's arms doing it.

He looks over to see how the other is doing.

Flamethrower dealt with, then. He stopped, refocused on the first target. Disarmed, trying to escape. A stun blast was all that was needed to send the target sprawling. That just left one, who was clearing the third floor of the building now.

Whatever was keeping the third one heading upwards didn't look very efficient or stable. Shooting him down would maim him at best, detonate the device at worst. Instead, he pulled a grappling hook from his belt, locked it in to the launcher under the barrel of his rifle, aimed for the device and fired. The claw latched onto it with a magnetic grip and the line went taught, stopping the escaping vandal's rise.

For a moment, anyway. The device made a high-pitched whine and struggled to rise further, making his boots slip across the pavement. With nothing solid to hold onto nearby, all he could do was try and haul on the line. He did not fully think this one through.

"What the fuck," is all Hank can utter as he sees the man start to be dragged upwards by the other.

It really isn't even a concious decision. Someone helped him out, Hank drops the other youth on the ground risking him to run away to go help the other. Grabbing the man's arm, he holds on to him, but the line still threatens to break off. So he does the logical thing. Moves himself enough that he can grab the line with one of his hands and gives it a good tug downward.

Faced with the strength of the man's grip, the assailant is thrown downwards...towards them.

Not exactly one of Hank's greatest plans either.

Good ideas were not in supply at the moment. Climbing the line seemed like the best option to force the target to land, but that idea was scrapped once his arm was grabbed. Much more solidly than he would have expected. He dangled there for a moment, struggling to keep a grip on the line. Maybe he should just--

The yank on the line brought 622 back to the ground, and the target hurtling down towards him. He didn't have time to get out of the way, taking the impact and falling half on the pavement, half on the man behind him.

As soon as he had the sense to do so, he pushed the teenager off of them, rolling up onto one knee to pin him to the ground and get wrist binders on him. He would've expected more struggling, but it looked like the bugger had managed to stun himself by bouncing his head off 622's armor on the way down. At least someone today was having worse luck.

Right. That was at least two hostiles neutralized, but he'd lost track of the third one. "Are you alright, sir?"

"Shit. Sorry."

Hank sounded more preoccupied about the other than himself. In fact he looked briefly puzzled when the other asked him if he was alright, like he realized he should half felt that...but hadn't.

Maybe he really should read those powers a little more closely instead of just scanning them. The back of his neck felt more harder than usual, like hard plastic instead of skin. At least until he pushes it with his fingers.

"Yeah I'm fine..." And that was weird. He stands up and looks at the other who had, of course, taking this time to make a run for it. Except he was still half-dazed from the garbage being thrown at him.

"FREEZE!" The command was yelled even as he moved over without running. "Keep running and you're regret it!"

Like a chilling effect, the youth thought about his chances of survival against two men who had brought down his other compatriots and then, finally, did the smart thing and threw himself on the ground.

"Fucking finally. Someone's got some common sense."

He had his rifle back in his hand in an instant, aiming at the third assailant's back. Surprisingly, it wasn't necessary this time. He'd rarely seen someone act sensibly under these circumstances.

Or at least, circumstances close to these. He was used to urban combat, not whatever the kark this was.

"I should call this in to the police." He took out his communicator. "What's your name, sir?" The police tended to want to have a record of imPorts on the scene, and this man was definitely an imPort. That kind of strength didn't just come from being solidly built.

"Hank Anderson." He was glad the other guy was taking care of calling the cops (even as weird it felt to think about that) as he had grabbed the youth and threw him over his elbow now that he knew he couldn't do much.

He put the guy next to the other two men, finding a piece of metal to work as makeshift writs locks. Don't worry he was a professional (who had seen this been done before in movies).

"I'm going to gather all their weapons and shit that fell out of their pockets."

If anything, he wanted to make sure those three got locked up for at least a night for what they had done.

"You wouldn't happen to have a glove I could borrow? Don't want to add my prints to the weapons at this rate."

"No spares, sorry sir." Just the pair of gloves he was wearing. And until he was certain those three were entirely subdued and disarmed, he wasn't taking any of his armor off. Regulation and common sense dictated that. Too many troopers died from letting their guard down.

That was why he kept his eyes on all of them and his rifle at the ready while he dialed the local emergency line. As soon as the dispatcher was on the line, he began rattling off details, voice clipped and emotionless.

"This is imPort TK-622, outside of 205 Blair Street. I'd like to report vandalism, assault with a deadly weapon against myself and imPort Hank Anderson, and attempt to flee the scene by three natives. They are presently subdued and awaiting pickup. Be advised: I am armed and will stand down when the police arrive. I am willing to make a sworn statement." It would mean a substantial amount of time at the police station, but local law had to be followed when it didn't conflict with the Empire.

Call completed, he stowed his communicator. "Should be under ten minutes." Traffic on the main roads could be congested this time of day. Shame the locals relied so heavily on groundcars, speeders wouldn't have this problem.

"Might be for the best." He took another look and realized that the weapons were save where they were - best leave the evidence where it was instead of moving it around. He wasn't a detective just yet. "Well you did tell them that you're armed and only stand down when they arrive. Shit, if I heard that on patrol I'd probably be moving my ass here as fast as possible. I'm guessing we'll get at least three cars to show up. They'll need two just for the three stooges."

He knew what he was talking about.

"Are flamethrowers normal assault weapons around here? I'm going to have to start wearing a proper vest if that's the case."

Might as well throw some humor now that the danger has passed.

Archie's had a similar idea to Hank - go out for a run with his dog. Unlike Hank, Archie is blessed with physical fitness, so he's... not actually taking a break when he sees the Saint-Bernard. Mightyena veers off from next to Archie, bounding over to Sumo with its tail wagging madly. It borks a hello to both Hank and Sumo, getting up and sniffing at the new dog.

Moments later, Archie follows, skidding slightly on the path when he stops.

"Yo, uh, sorry, he's--" Mightyena barks again and flops onto the ground next to the bigger dog. "...Overly friendly."

Edited (fuckin shit) 2018-08-17 15:04 (UTC)

Hank's first thought is this was possibly the strangest dog pattern he'd seen in his life until the gothic dog comes closer and he wonders just what the hell he's looking at. But hey, it's saying hi, so he replies back the same before ~~beared Arnold Schwarzenegger~~ his owner comes right afterwards.

"You could say that again," he replies looking back at the both of them. "I'd ask what breed type he is, but I feel like I'm gonna find it it doesn't come from earth."

~~he wishes he was that buff~~

"Yeah, you got it," Archie says with a short laugh as Mightyena paws at Sumo, not unlike a kid trying to get the attention of an adult. "He's a Mightyena-- a Pokémon, for what it's worth."

Archie strolls over, crouching to watch the two dogs.

"What breed is that one? I'm still learning all of them..."

~~Who said it was top of prime Arnold, clearly it's governator Arnold.~~

"A Pokémon," he repeats that incredulous. Nothing like from the ones he remembered playing as kid, but it was still strange to be looking at them in the flesh.

"Sumo's a Saint-Bernard. One of the biggest dog breeds in the world...well my world anyway."

Both of the animals begin to bark at each other excitedly and Hank chuckles, nodding.

"Your name's Archie, right?" Bark. "Sorry. Most Amazing Pokemon Trainer Friend Archie."

"Uh huh. I know a few people are aware of them from before they even got here, though they always seem to know the Kanto ones more than any others..."

Why that is, Archie doesn't know. he doesn't think about it.

"Saint-Bernard," he repeats, crouching to look at the borking large dog.

"Eh? Ah! Yep. Did Mightyena tell you my name, Sumo?" he asks the dog, not at all surprised at the concept of Hank being able to understand them.

"What can I say? You can't go wrong with the classics." That didn't sound ominous at all. He just shrugs before he explains anymore and looks back at both of the dogs. Somehow he should have expected a Pokémon trainer to think speaking with animals is perfectly normal.

Bark.

"Yeah, they were talking about their owners to each other."

Hopefully Mightyena wasn't going to tell anything embarrassing about Archie. Probably.

"Ah... huh," he says, like he understands. He does not and is happy to drop it. Hoenn best, Hank. Hoenn best.

"Ha! I ain't surprised." Fortunately, Mightyena has nothing embarrassing to share... just yet.

"You get him here?"

Hank figures someone explained it to him before. He'd not going to talk about it either. And thank goodness Mightyena was not the type to stay anything else. Sumo was telling him about how Hank is teased by the androids and he just briefly frowns.

"Hey. No."

Thankfully dogs are just happy to talk about everything else. Like how great today is, isn't it great? Perfect weather!

"That old mutt? Nah I had him for a bit back home." The voice was joyful; he might call him a mutt but it sounded more like an endearing term than an actual insult towards dogkind. He was about to say something else but saves it. He might have overcome the first hurdle regarding Cole's death but talking that he got the dog for his dead son is not something he'd share with a perfect stranger.

"Guessing it's the same with your Pokémon."

Mightyena is indeed easy to talk to-- it happily chats away with Sumo about everything and anything, asking how both he and his owner are settling in, where they're staying, about the kind of breed of dog he is... Archie laughs a little when Hank tells them no, reaching out to give Sumo a scritch behind the ear.

"Awh, he's a good boy. I bet he was a great help around the house, huh?" How he could be, who knows. Archie's weird. "I've had Mightyena for a while, aye. Caught him as a Poochyena when I was exploring Rustboro forest, little fucker ran off with all the food I'd brought when I'd set it down for two seconds."

Mightyena snorts, telling Sumo that Archie had actually left it for quite a while, and he'd thought it had been abandoned. Silly humans, not looking after their possessions.

"Dropped it all right quick when I tossed a Pokéball at 'im, though. Guess he liked my cooking and decided to stay with me."

There's a tiny pause before Hank answers. Some things are best left unsaid for now.

"Yeah. He's always been great."

Unlike Hank himself, really. The man's eyes dart between Archie and the Mightyena when he talks and can't help but grin.

"I'm getting conflicting stories here," he admits. "End result is the same anyway, right?"

He gasps, acting scandalized.

"What are you tellin' him, Mightyena?!"

The dog barks. It sounds equally as scandalized. Archie shakes his head, giving Sumo more scritches.

"Don't listen to him. He's wont to make himself look better."

"So far from what I've heard speaking with dogs, I tend to go on their side." He says that with both a hint of humor and looking back at Archie to gauge his reaction.

"Maybe if you didn't abandon your food...anyway you guys are working together now, right?"

"Oh, yes!" Archie says with a laugh. "Mightyena loves to lead in battles, don't you?"

It barks, telling Sumo (and Hank, by extension) about how it can use tons of stat moves, and when Archie had it use physical attacks, its Dark type attacks were very powerful.

"...You know, it took me ages to figure out how these non-Pokémon work. It's pretty embarrassing in hindsight."

Sumo barks back that he has no idea what that all means, but he's very excited for him that he can protect his friend! Sumo then admits he's not very good at guarding Hank but he tries.

Hank just grins but doesn't say anything.

"Sumo's not really a work dog. He'd be too gentle, and dog battles are banned. It's not exactly like in your world, I bet."

Mightyena happily replies that he'd like to show Sumo some pointers on how to protect their human. It's important that their good human friend stays happy and safe, after all.

"Yeah, I've heard of and been accused of that several times. I doubt the dogs here could take a bolder to the face and shrug it off, huh?"

Mightyena barks. Yes, he can do that. Has done it. Will do it again.

Lucien has been up all night. Despite his two professions, it's rather unusual for him, actually. The radio show down in Heropa is in the evening, and far more clandestine business gets done during daylight hours than most would expect. But approximately once a week, tradition or circumstance dictates a full night.

And so he's wearing comfortable, quiet clothes, he's unshaven, and looks rather bleary-eyed as he cuts through the park on his way back to a safehouse for a few hour's rest. The past day was all information-gathering about a target. A vital part of his profession of course, but it means long hours, tedious work, and often a great deal of discomfort.

Despite the fatigue, he brightens visibly when he sees what's up ahead. "What a magnificent dog you have," he says by way of cheerful greeting. "I've never seen a breed like it. Would they object if I introduced myself?"

Yes, talking to the dog like that is a little odd. But he talks to his horse quite frequently, and she certainly understands more than she lets on.

Maybe if was his dective's hunch, but there was something off about the man--okay no, scratch that. The only reason Hank had an odd feeling was Sumo barked that the new man smelled weird. He himself didn't notice anything, but the odd smell could just mean he came from a different world than his. The fact he wanted to introduce himself to the dog was certainly a clue from that, so he politely nodded and just filed it away. It's not like his dog was a miracle worker, after all, and weird smells might just mean he did his laundry differently.

"Sure go ahead. Sumo's a Saint-Bernard, one of the bigger breeds from my world. You guys got dogs where you're from?"

"Any number of breeds, but none like him." He holds out a hand carefully for Sumo to sniff. "The closest I've ever seen are... mastiffs, perhaps? I've never kept dogs before, most of my siblings preferred pet rats." And his duties kept him on the road too much to make pets practical these days.

"Oh, and I should introduce myself to you as well: Lucien Lachance. Delighted to meet you both."

"Mastiffs? Shit those things are big too." Normally the idea of pet rats would be weird but...he's pretty sure some of his school friends had pet rats and hamsters too. It's just one of those things parents let their kids have before moving on to larger animals.

"Well Mr.Lachance, well nice to meet you." Be'd ask if the other was french, but Detroit had a large number of people with french names.

Sumo moved over to give a tentative sniff. The smell was still strange, but he was still but a simple dog after all, and after a few barks let himself be petted freely.

Ah, good. The dog was friendly enough to pet. "They used to be war dogs, I think. Now they're more likely to be found guarding homesteads." And they were a horrible surprise if you had unannounced business with someone under their protection.

"Are you an imPort, by any chance?" Normally he wouldn't ask, but talking to the dog likely either meant a power, or a local eccentric. Either seemed equally likely.

"War dogs huh...nah we got a K9 unit but that's more for peacekeeping than war."

Sumo would probably lick someone if they broke in to be honest.

"What gave it away? Yeah I'm an ImPort."

[ Seeing people talk to their dogs isn't as strange when you are living in a world where people are being brought in by an interdimensional machine. In fact, anyone does it even without an interdimensional machine in the away; a lot of people see their pets as their kids after all.

Kaneki had just dropped some food someone ordered from his coffee shop and was coming back to Nonah when he sees Hank, He smiles a little at the sight, and can't help but to comment when he passes by the man and his dog ] They are really good company, aren't they?

[He stops drinking his water bottle and brings out the much larger one he had brought for Sumo and lets him greedily lick up the water as he speaks.]

They're good yeah! S'long as they don't complain too much. Did you know even dogs can get tired of walking? It's crazy, I know.

Complain? [ Kaneki looks at the dog. maybe it's a talking dog, like Ace? Or maybe this person is crazy, that is also a possibility which he isn't going to rule out just yet ]

[Oh right. Maybe he should explain that.]

You know how ImPorts get powers? Well I get to be able to speak and understand dogs. It's been a pretty freakin interesting experience, let me tell you that.

[Sumo finishes licking up the water and looks up at Kaneki expectantly.]

[ kaneki smiles a little, and eventually reaches for Sumo to pet him ] There was a talking dog once before. Ace. He made great conversation, actually.

I bet it's the same, here.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Open] - An Old Hard-boiled Eccentric Detective and You

[CLOSED TO CANNIBAL ROOMMATES (MAYBE CONNOR AND DANGER)]

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hi has hank ever seen star wars because now it's seen him

HE HAS BUT VANILLA MOVIES ONLY - I HAVE A 4TH WALL POST

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1!

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these tags will use my french keyboards to their full ééé potential.

GOOD

Omelette au Fromage wait

close enough

Sumo vs Grahyèna

sumo wins bc hes best boy

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1

I'm loving how Hank now has CR with two cannibals

collect them all, Hank

Who else does he need is the important question

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