Cool, Cool, Cool: Title Of Your Roleplay (A Brooklyn 99 Rp)

“No,” Norman objected. “He was standing down,” he stated stubbornly, though a bit of the fire had left his voice by now. ”I’m a detective, I know how to handle situations like that, I could’ve handled it, and so what if we were there a little linger? We were helping Time get rid of Samhian, we were stopping someone from getting away with that kind of behavior, and unlike you two, I didn’t even want to go to a bar in the first place,” Norman continued, growing a little angry again. “I didn’t want you tagging along either,” Norman told her, a bit of a bite in his voice. “And don’t think I don’t know why you came along, I know M-Captain Hazel told you to come, to keep an eye on me, I know you were supposed to ‘watch’ to make sure I didn’t do anything stupid-“ as if to make his point a little more clear, Norman gestured down towards his injured foot.

He wasn’t an idiot, he was able to put two and two together rather quickly.

“Ha well, if we’re throwing caution to the whim here, I might as well just-“ Norman paused as he leaned down and took off the boot, staring Tortie directly in the eyes as he threw it into the road. “There, now I can show you that I don’t need that boot, and I don’t need the captain telling anyone to keep an eye on me, and I don’t need you stepping in when I have things handled,” Norman continued, voice oddly quiet by now. “And if we had done things my way, we could’ve avoided causing a scene and potentially hurting people with glass,” Norman told her. “Before jumping in, you could’ve at least, I don’t know, pulled me off to the side, we could’ve tried to figure out a different tactic together, but no, you had to rush in, Tortie style, and-“ By now he might’ve been getting a little emotional. This was just....well this was just one of those things that might’ve pressed a button for him.

He knew he wasn’t all that intimidating, and it wouldn’t have been the first time that someone had jumped in to solve the problem for him.

It was stupid to get so worked up about something like this, and deep down, Norman knew that, but in the heat of the moment, all he could think about was that once again, someone decided to step in, making it pretty clear what they thought of his capabilities.

“...Guys” Ives cut him off.

Norman didn’t look over at him. “Ives, we’re a little busy-“

“Yeah, yeah, I know, it’s just...isn’t that the mystery meat food truck?”

Norman instantly snapped his attention to Ives, following his pointer finger until his eyes landed on the truck from earlier, parked just barely in sight in an alleyway.

That was...weird.

What was it doing out here anyways?

Norman furrowed his brow, frowning as he looked at it. “You two, stay here,” He ordered with a small wave of his hand, waiting a moment to make sure they were listening before he slowly started towards the food truck, doing his best to stay out of sight.

Honestly? Ives was a little too zoned out to really know what was going on. He knew Norman was mad, which wasn’t that uncommon, he knew he should probably intervene since it took a special kind of person to actually calm his little garbage friend down without making it worse in the process, however at the moment, the only thing he could really focus on was the fact that the mystery meat food truck was just sort of chilling in an alleyway right now.

Then suddenly Norman wanted to investigate and Ives was shot back to the present.

Turning his head way too fast, Ives looked over at Norman just in time to see him shoot Tortie a look, though he didn’t say anything and instead just continued on towards the food truck. “Nori, no! We don’t have time for your Nancy Drew shenanigans right now!” He called out towards his friend, however Norman didn’t appear to be listening, or if he was, he was ignoring him.

Ives frowned and let out a sigh. “Come on, we should probably go get him,” Ives decided, shooting a quick look back at Tortie before he took after Norman in an albeit, much slower, wobbly-er pace than Norman was going.

Ives waved his hand dismissively. “No, he chewed your head off,” he corrected simply, trying to keep his balance as he continued on towards the alleyway. “I know he’s hard to deal with, I’ve dealt with him way longer than you have,” he continued, pausing for a moment to look back at Tortie. “But also, you did slam a tray full of drinks and glass on a guy’s head and that wasn’t cool either,” Ives said, feeling like he should probably say something about the whole mess that went down before they got any further. “Not saying Norman didn’t mess up too, he did, and he should apologize for that later, but you aren’t blameless either, Tortie, and maybe you should think a little bit about that too,” Ives suggested, waiting a moment to see if his words had settled in before he turned back to face the upcoming truck.

“Now, you can stay here if you want, but I’m gonna go make sure Norman doesn’t do anything stupid, which he’s probably already done,” Ives said and took a steady step out into the alleyway.

However as soon as he stepped inside the dark alleyway, he ran right into someone and stumbled backwards.

Ives blinked, trying to clear his head enough to think as he looked up to see a tall man short, dark hair and a large scowl on his face.

He didn’t say anything, rather just took a step forward and let out a low kind of growl like noise that made it clear to Ives that this time, he was the one in trouble.

Now, Ives wasn’t thinking super clearly right now and he definitely was a little off balance, but even he was at least pretty sure that whatever Tortie was doing right now, wasn’t exactly going to help. In fact, it only seemed to be making the tall, attractive man even angrier as he let out another low growl and grabbed Tortie’s wrist before she could continue doing...whatever it was she was doing.

“I think you misunderstand the situation,” the man growled out and instantly tightened his grip on Tortie’s wrist.

Ives frowned, bringing his hand up to flick at his nose as he got into a defensive position and waved his fists at the other man. “Let ‘er go, I’ll fight you,” he warned, hopping back and forth as if that would help him stay balanced.

The man didn’t seem impressed and raised his brow ever so slightly at Ives and before Ives could react, the other man punched him right in the face.

---

A couple minutes earlier, Norman had his back pressed up against the walls of the alleyway, watching as a man left the food truck, carrying a rather large black bag behind him. Norman frowned, waiting until the man was gone until he started closer to the food truck. Now maybe this was just his paranoia talking, but he was pretty sure this wasn’t a place any food truck hung out after dark, there were specific parking for those places and this did not fit into that criteria, plus...it was parked just out of sight until it was pointed out to you, and Norman hadn’t trusted the place from the beginning.

As a detective, he felt it right to investigate.

Plus...it got him out of the conversation he had been having with Tortie, which was not one he wanted to continue right now.

Furrowing his brow, Norman made it to the food truck and slipped inside from the front, the door was unlocked, though he assumed it was probably because the man hadn’t expected anyone to be in the alleyway at the time.

Once inside the truck, Norman took in the sights, his stomach flipping in disgust.

The inside of the truck was a mess, cooking supplies were everywhere and there was a very obvious crimson red puddle lay in the middle of the truck, a trail of blood leading to a cabinet off to the side.

Gingerly stepping over the puddle of blood, Norman knelt down in front of the cabinet and took a breath, preparing himself for some kind of bloody mess as he opened it.

The cabinet opened and Norman felt a rock drop in his stomach.

Inside was an open bag full of severed, human hands.

That...that explained a lot.

“Little late for a snack, isn’t it?” Came a voice behind him and Norman froze, eyes going wide.

Fiddlesticks.

Slowly getting up, Norman turned around to see the woman from earlier: Nyathera.

“Little early for murder, isn’t it?” He echoed back, glaring at the woman.

Nyathera raised her brow. “Wait, I remember you,” she started, taking in his appearance. “You are the small, sickly looking boy from earlier, the one that came with the abominable stomach and the other man,” she said and placed a hand on her hip. “What are you doing here?”

Norman huffed slightly at her comment and quickly fumbled through his jacket pockets until he found his badge and pulled it out. “For your information, I’m a detective, and you are under arrest,” he told her, pointing his nose in the air.

Nyathera flashed him a wicked smile. “Is that so?” She asked, tipping her head to the side. “Who is going to arrest me? It can’t be you...you’ll be dead,” she told him in a silky smooth voice, letting her words barely register for him before grabbing a large butcher knife from the counter and lunging at Norman.

Norman narrowly avoided the large knife as he jumped to the side and picked up the first thing he could find. “Aha!” He said triumphantly as he jabbed the...uh, the large spoon at Nyathera, looking from the spoon to Nyathera for a couple moments as he inwardly cursed at his bad luck.

Nyathera cooed at him. “How cute, you found a little spoon,” she teased him and instantly leapt at him again.

Norman blocked the large knife with the spoon, eyes looking right up as the sharp edge of the knife hovered menacingly above his head, the only thing between him and that knife being...a spoon.

This...this really wasn’t good.

Ringing filled his ears as Ives stumbles back, bringing a hand up to his face, his left eye throbbing with pain; that combined with the buzz he got from the drinks, was not a good mix.

He grumbled and swayed back and forth for awhile, blinking until the blurriness ebbed away enough for him to actually tell what was going on. The man had Tortie had only seemed to grow in silent anger the more she talked, and Norman was nowhere to be seen.

Ives have a quick shake of his head - which was a bad idea - as he tried to coach himself back into the game, and once he had gotten enough energy back, he charged at the other man, not sure what he was going to do but hoping some sort of instinct would kick in and help him in this case.

That didn’t happen and instead the guy kicked him as soon as he was close enough and picked him up by the collar of his shirt, glaring at him. “That’s enough,” he growled out and without another word, he started to drag both of them towards the food truck.

---

Meanwhile, inside the food truck, Norman was still fighting Nyathera with the spoon.

Narrowly missing the sharp edge of the blade, Norman docked down and slid to the side just in time of another attack, causing Nyathera to crash into the counter.

She let out an “oomph” of pain and dropped the knife.

Norman instantly dove for it and picked it up, pointing it at her. “Don’t move,” He warned.

Nyathera gave him a side glance, letting out a sharp bark of laughter. “You don’t expect me to believe you intend to use that, do you?” She asked and stood back up, towering over him by at least a foot, her gaze darkening as she looked down at him. “I’ve had enough of you,” She informed and instantly stepped right on his injured foot.

Norman let out an involuntary help of pain, gasping as he dropped the knife and fell down to cradle his foot.

...ditching the boot had been a bad idea, though he didn’t plan on ever telling Tortie that.

“I saw your little boot earlier, it is foolish to go without it, clearly you aren’t very bright,” Nyathera told him plainly, picking the knife back up and looking at her reflection in the blade.

Norman swore at her in response.

Nyatgera shook her head, opening her mouth to say something when suddenly the back of the truck opened up and a large man that looked strikingly similar to Nyathera walked in, dragging Ives and Tortie with him. “I found these two snooping-“ he paused bode he noticed Norman, glaring down as he put his focus on the detective. “Friends of yours?” He questioned in a low snarl.

Norman took his gaze away from the other man to glare at Tortie and Ives instead. “I told you two to stay put!”

Ives sent him a half awake, apologetic smile, lifting his hand in the air. “‘Tiswas my idea, don’t blame Tortie,” he slurred out and Norman let out an angry puff of breath.

Nyathera looked from Tortie and Ives to Norman.

“Nuru, tie them up,” She ordered, gesturing her head to Tortie and Ives before her piercing eyes landed back on Norman. “I am going to have a little chat with our detective friend here,” she practically purred out.

The man: Nuru, did as he was told and brought the two of them further inside the truck.

Nyathera, however, simply knelt down in front of Norman and put the knife right below his chin. “We are leaving with your friends, if you call for backup, if you try to follow us, if you do anything of the sort, I will kill them,” She threatened him and got up, pushing Norman towards the back of the truck until he had fallen on the ground outside.

Norman looked up at her suspiciously, ignoring the pain. “Why are you letting me go?” He questioned.

Nyathera gave a casual shrug as she grabbed hold of the doors. “You are too small and weak and stupid to stop me, and besides...you have no fat or meat on you, and I don’t believe in killing without using the body, therefore you are useless to me,” Nyathera told him and began to close the doors, pausing for a moment to flash him a devilish smile. “Your friends on the other hand, might not be,” and with that last final warning, she closed the doors and the truck drove off.

Leaving Norman alone in the alleyway where the truck once stood.

After getting tied up - and not in some sort of freaky, kinky way, mind you - Ives was really beginning to question his life choices right about now. Here he was, in some weird food truck, tied up to an incredibly um...eager woman that he honestly didn’t know all that well, as two presumably cannibals drove off into the streets of New York, blood standing the floor of the truck and Norman gone.

Oh man, was this how it ended?

This was definitely not how Ives wanted to die. He wanted to go out in the sort of way that heroes in action movies went out. Taking a nuke up into space, sacrificing himself to save the entire world, chainsawing his way out of a shark’s stomach. You know, cool ways.

Not like this.

Though...on the bright side, Ives did think he probably tasted amazing, he was talking like a god tier meal right here, he was what they would serve to royalty...except that also wasn’t going to be the case here and that just made the entire situation even worse.

The woman walked over to them, studying them curiously off a minute. “Phones, I’m going to take your phones now,” she started and before Ives could say anything about it, she had already picked through their pockets for anything valuable and then promptly threw their phones right out the window.

Ives let out a whine. “Ah come on, I just got that phone,” he grumbled softly. This day just kept getting worse.

The woman gave him an uncaring look. “Your phones are trackable,” she replied simply before making her way back to the front where the guy from earlier was.

By the time Callie’s siblings had left, Hazel had already gotten together a pretty decent sized list of potential suspects. She was pretty sure most of them were still in jail though, which really did narrow it down.

Looking over at Callie as she approached, Hazel held out the notepad and tapped it with her pen. “Alright, this is where we’re gonna start, of course first I’m going to have to make some calls to narrow it down, but that shouldn’t take too long,” she explained and out the notepad back down, pulling out her phone.

- - -

After the calls had all been finished, Hazel let out a sigh and grabbed the notepad, crossing off name after name until there was only three left. “Alright, so, that definitely helped, since it seems like a lot of people are still in prison,” she started, glancing over at Callie for a second before she continued. “So that leaves three leading suspects: Drew Cyrus, Peter Crowley, and...” Hazel paused as she looked down at the list again, nose scrunching up a little as she scribbled on a bunch of question marks around the last name. “Well there’s always the chance my demon ex husband finally snapped,” she finished and shrugged a little.

It probably wasn’t Patrick.

Probably.

Well, things could be worse. Being tied up wasn't all that bad. It wasn't ideal, but Tortie could think of a lot of worse things, and at least they were tied up in a food truck. That gave them the possibility that they would be fed, and honestly, Tortie would be fine with being kidnapped so long as she still got food.

"If you're takin-" Tortie never finished her statement before the other woman threw her phone right out the window.

Welp, there went all the numbers she had collected over the years. At least getting Roswell and Callie's numbers again would be easy, but there was no way she would be able to get some of those back and that was just disappointing.

For the first time since this happened Tortie deflated, letting out a sigh and slouching against the ropes keeping her tied up. She should probably be upset and worried about the fact that she was probably going to die here, but listen, losing all that information on her phone really sucked.

Watching as Tyrone brought the bike out for the race, Beau offered him a friendly smile, his helmet was on, but the part that covered his face was still lifted up, allowing him to send the rookie a reassuring smile. “Good luck, Tyrone,” he told him and got on his bike, starting up the engine as he waited for the go ahead to start. “Don’t feel too bad when you lose, okay? Takes out all the fun,” Beau told him simply.

“Alright, for our newbie Tyrone here, I’ll lay out the rules,” Blitz started lazily, walking out in front of the two bikers. “It’s only one lap, you start here, you end here, you’re gonna end up circling though a couple streets to get back, shortcuts are allowed if you can find them, whoever gets back here first is the winner, got it?” She asked and sent Tyrone a look to make sure he understood.

Once that was settled, Blitz lazily walked over to the sidewalk, pausing for a second to smirk over at the two of them. “Oh and one more thing...playing dirty is encouraged, makes the races more interesting,” she said with a small, bemused chuckle.

Knowing the race was about to start, Beau looked over at Tyrone and winked at him, a smirk flickering across his face.

This was going to be fun.

Flipping the front of his helmet back in place, Beau waited until Blitz gave the good ahead and instantly started off down the nearly empty street. They had chosen a pretty quiet area for this, and had done the best they could to box off the road just in case there was any accidents.

The race was simple, and Beau knew where he was going, so now it was just a matter of getting back first.

Not that that would be a problem, honestly, once Beau was on the road, everything else faded away, and it was if his body was merely an extension of the motorcycle, allowing him to move with it as one.

....Plus he knew all the shortcuts, if he absolutely had to use them, not that he really ever did.

It had been a rather slow night on patrol, which was a bit boring if Noah had to be honest. Things were a lot more interesting and fun when there was a criminal to chase down or some kind of case to look into, but so far there hadn’t been any of that and Noah just wasn’t a fan. It left him with a lot of time to hang out with his partner Alistair, but all he had really done was pester him about whether or not he should actually get a new puppy and whether or not he should give it a normal name or name it something really cool like Sinosauropteryx or Bambiraptor.

All of this came to a halt, though, when movement caught his attention. Noah perked up, hoping this was a chance to give him something to do. Sure, he had no problem continuing pestering Alistair about the dog and name situation, but Noah was getting antsy for a bit of actual cop stuff.

As soon as he heard Alistair call out and ask if it was Detective Walters, Noah couldn’t stop himself from giving a little excited wiggle in his seat.

This had to mean there was something for them to do.

”Am I glad to see you,” he greeted Norman and then fell silent to hear what the detective had to say. Whatever was going on was certainly piquing Noah’s interest and he was ready to get in on some of this action. ”Awesome, what’s the problem?” He asked, looking over at Norman with excitement in his sea-green eyes.

Now this was interesting, and way better than just sitting around all night waiting for something to happen. While it was important to get opinions on whether or not he should get a new puppy and what he should name said hypothetical puppy, getting into the action of his job was a lot more important. Puppy talk could be saved for later.

Noah listened to everything Norman had to say, nodding along, clearly intrigued by everything the detective was saying. "Kinda sounds like a dream I had once, though the cannibals was just one cannibal and she wasn't a food truck driver, and instead of a gay bar it was just high school. Though you could probably compare high school to a gay bar, it would make sense," he added with a shrug, clearly not at all fazed by what Norman had just described to him. It was like chasing down kidnapping cannibals was a common occurrence or something. "Though, if worst comes to worst, we should try out a burger. Can't let the civilians go to waste." Bad joke, Noah, now wasn't the time for those kinds of jokes.

Though, now that he was thinking about it, human meat probably wouldn't be that bad. He had heard a lot on the tastes of human flesh and whatnot, and when it came down to it meat was meat. It wouldn't be any different than eating meat that came from a cow or anything. That then led to thoughts on why some meat was morally acceptable to eat and others weren't. Like cat meat or something, it was just meat from an animal like meat from a cow was. Why was it okay to kill a cow for its meat but not a cat? Probably had something to do with how cats were seen as domesticated pets and cows weren't. It was intriguing just how the human mind worked and made up all of these morals and rules on what was food and what wasn't. He could understand the problems with cannibalism since killing people was illegal, but even then human meat was still just meat, and meat was food.

Okay, maybe now wasn't the time to get caught up in those sort of thoughts. He could think about it later, maybe bring it up to Alistair after this was all said and done to see where he stood on the matter and what his thoughts were. This was also something he'd have to bring up to Crawley, Kristoffer, and Grace at some point as well. Either way he was going to save these thoughts for later but they weren't going to leave him completely until he got an actual conversation about it all. Right now, though, he had criminals to stop.

Yeah, a psyche evaluation was fair. Noah didn't have a problem with that. "You know, wouldn't be my first," he replied to Norman with a nonchalant tone of voice. He could deal with an evaluation, especially since he knew he'd be cleared to keep working and everything. Plus those tests were pretty fun and it was always amusing to come back from one of those and make fun of some of the questions asked.

All that aside, Noah listened to everything Norman had gathered about these cannibals they were supposed to be chasing down. From everything the detective was saying it seemed like these were pretty smart criminals - knew how to get away with murder and how to get away from law enforcement. Noah had to give them props, but tonight their little operation was coming to an end. Kinda bittersweet to think about. No telling how long those guys had been going with this, and here Noah was, about to stop all of that.

Okay, he needed to not sympathize with cannibals here. At least not while on the job.

Once Norman had said everything he needed to say, Noah nodded and gave his own response. "Got it. Dealing with some pretty smart crooks here, but we're smarter. I'll go ahead and let the others know." With that he started getting into contact with the other officers he knew would also be on patrol at the time, letting them know what was going on but to not make any moves on engaging the food truck if it was spotted.

Once he had reported everything he needed to, Noah put his attention back on Norman, listening to him as he asked about any potentially quiet gas stations. Noah thought for a moment, going over a list of all the gas stations he knew of that were more on the down low. ”I can think of a few,” he responded after having been silent for a while. ”Should we try checking them all? Actually,” he corrected himself when another thought came to mind, ”what direction did you see them go in last? That could help narrow our options down.” Unless they backtracked at some point between earlier and now, but Noah felt like this was at least the right way to narrow some of the possibilities down. Even if he had cracked some jokes earlier this was a serious job, and even if he wasn’t above trying out human meat just for the heck of it at some point, he’d rather make sure people stayed alive instead of ground up into burger meat.