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

For once in a really long time Roswell felt excited about something. He could finally add something to a case that might actually lead them somewhere. He could prove to Norman, prove to all of 99, that he could actually do something of worth. Maybe what he had noticed wasn't the biggest breakthrough, but it certainly was something and he was beyond ready to tell Norman what he had put together.

Only, it didn't exactly work like that.

As soon as they got back to the car Norman handed Roswell the mask, which he took into his hands and looked over for a long moment, and went on to pretty much solve way more of the case Roswell ever could have.

That excitement he had bubbling inside of him was instantly exhausted and blown away like cinders in the wind. He was a fool to think he could add something that Norman wouldn't have caught. He was a darn, useless fool.

He did what he could to hide the disappointed, hollow feeling that had opened up in his chest. This wasn't on Norman, not at all. Roswell was lucky to have such a competent partner and he needed to learn that anything he did would never outshine the younger man. It was just...he had thought he had something of use for once. He had thought he could add something to the table. 

Buckling up and turning the car on, Roswell nodded. He needed to respond to what Norman had said. "Yeah...yeah, that sounds like a plan," he replied, not once turning to look at Norman in fear that the disappointment would be as clear as day on his face. He should be excited that they were getting somewhere with this case again. He was too old to be getting worked up over not being useful. At this point he just really needed to accept it.

The fact that he had thought he had something to add to the case had stayed in the back of Roswell's mind for the rest of the day. Even when they got back to the fourth floor to report what they had gotten and what Norman had figured out from it all, Roswell hadn't been able to shake off his uselessness. He had even slunk away to his desk to sadly play Pokemon Go for a while there, and all he had been able to catch was a few measly Pidgey. He hadn't even found a decent Eevee to add to his roster. Overall, it just hadn't been the best day for him. 

Realizing that it was getting later, Roswell pulled himself out of his little dreary sulk. The shop would probably be closing here pretty soon, and he knew Norman had wanted to go out and follow Gail in another vehicle after he left for the day. He slipped his phone into his pants' pocket before getting up from his desk and heading over toward Norman's. "Hey, about ready to head out?" He asked, coming over to stand at his partner's desk.

*CREAMY*
Hiiiii

Well, here she was, a captain of an entire precinct with...surprisingly, nothing to do. Paperwork was ahead of schedule, detectives were off on their cases - or planning a party - and everyone else was just sort of...doing their own thing.

It was actually kind of disappointing, she had been so busy doing Captain stuff that she ran out of stuff to do.

That is until she noticed Cat and Jules in the break room.

Hazel looked over towards them, trying to guess as to what they were doing...beyond obviously, taking their break.

Still, they were there and it couldn’t hurt to take her break now anyways.

So, walking over towards the break room, Hazel greeted her two detectives with a set of finger guns. ”Balcazer, Lachat, whatcha up to?” She questioned with a grin as she leaned against the wall to the break room, looking them over.

Now that he thought about it he probably should have waited for Norman to come to him. After all, his partner was pretty busy with all the paper work he had to do thanks to the arrest he had made that morning, and no telling what all he was doing for the White Fox crime as well. He had probably just messed Norman up from doing some really important work. Which, Roswell wasn't all that surprised. He was a natural at messing things up here. 

To be honest, he felt a bit of relief wash over him when it seemed like he had appeared at Norman's desk at the right time. The younger detective had finished up his paperwork and got up to go. Roswell was about to head on toward the elevator, but stopped in his tracks upon hearing the disappointment in Norman's voice. 

"Yeah?" He replied, voice raising in pitch to make it more of a question than a statement. He couldn't think of anything wrong with what he was wearing, but Norman had, and Norman was the real detective here, so he knew what he was doing more than Roswell ever did.

Norman tipped his head to the side, pursing his lips together, arms folded as he looked over Roswell and his outfit. Honestly, Norman wasn’t actually against the outfit or anything, Roswell dressed well for the job, not even Norman could deny that Roswell had a style and it worked for him. Sure they were in a work environment and as such, there was a certain dress code to keep up, but still, Roswell rocked it.

No, that wasn’t the problem here.

Sighing, Norman extended his hands outwards, gesturing widely to Roswell. ”It’s the exact same outfit you were earlier today!” He explained with a small, disapproving shake of his head. ”We’re about to follow a guy that’s seen both of us in person, if we want to get away with this at all, we need to do something about this,” he explained, once again gesturing to Roswell’s outfit.

Clicking his tongue, Norman rolled up the sleeve of his jacket to look at the watch he wore - honesty he thought watches were terribly outdated, everyone had a phone by now, use it. However the watch worked so much better for dramatic effect - with a shake of his head. ”Luckily for you, we’ve still got about an hour, even after closing time, most workers have to stay late to clean and lock everything up, so why don’t we stop by either your apartment or a 24 hour store or something and put you in something more appropriate,” he said with a small, affirming nod.

Yep, that’s what they were doing now, end of story.

Without waiting for Roswell to respond, Norman reached back over to his desk and pulled out a small black bag, patting it gently as he looked back to Roswell. ”Right after I go change,” he explained, already heading off towards the bathrooms, however he made a point to walk backwards, patting his back one more time as he maintained eye contact with Roswell. ”Always be prepared.”

Honestly, TJ didn’t even remember what happened during the ride over.

One minute the motorcycle had started up and he had panicked and the next moment, Val was asking if he was okay.

TJ kept his eyes closed, slowly coming out of his ride long panic. ”Are we dead?” He inquired quietly, however considering he was able to ask that probably meant that they weren’t because honestly he sort of felt like once you did die, you would definitely know you were dead, so if you had to question how dead you were, you probably weren’t dead.

That did a bit to calm his nerves as he slowly squinted his eyes open, glancing around at his new surroundings as he finally relaxed, leaning back slightly with a small, soft sigh of relief. ”Phew...” he muttered to himself, getting off the bike to stretch his arms out above his head. ”Well that wasn’t too bad then,” he decided, shaking it off.

Besides, even if it had been bad, it was over now and now they could get back to the important stuff, like their current case.

Following Val’s lead, TJ walked over to the building, hanging in the back to let Val do most of the talking.

Letting out a small chuckle of amusement, Norman gave Roswell a quick nod of approval, he had to admit that anyone that made a Disney reference so easily was okay in his book.

”Be prepaaaaared,” Norman sang in his best possible Scar impression before he had left the confinements of the bullpen and quickly made his way to the bathrooms, changing into his outfit.

Now while Norman would’ve liked to say that he was always this prepared for something like this that he kept some extra clothes with him, that would be a lie.

In reality, once he had gotten back to the precinct he had called up Niko and asked if his older brother could grab some clothes and bring them over for him, figuring that he wouldn’t have enough time to stop by his apartment with all the paperwork he had to do.

He had been right, but luckily Niko had been willing to help out.

The only problem was that Norman had no idea what Niko had brought for him.

Pulling the clothes out of the bag, Norman took one look at the chosen outfit and sighed.

He really shouldn’t have put Niko in charge of this.

He loved his brother dearly, but Niko had no fashion sense, and Norman had made a big stink about outfits to Roswell just a minute ago, which meant he really had to pull this off or face the humiliation.

Deciding he might as well suck it up, Norman got changed, switching out his reasonable - yet cool - work clothes in favor of a grayish shirt, a random pair of black skinny jeans, mismatched, long, neon socks, and of course.

His unicorn hoodie.

He was never letting Niko pick his clothes for him again, like yeah sure he owned all these clothes but these were not work clothes, these were the clothes he didnt want his coworkers to know he had.

He could lie though, it would be okay.

Slipping on some sneakers and grabbing his black leather jacket - he wasn’t giving up on the jacket - he walked back out and went straight for his desk in hopes that Roswell would still be there.

Despite his failures from earlier, Roswell was starting to perk back up at this point, enough so to start tossing jokes around with Norman. He felt his spirits lift up all the more when Norman very easily took the joke and gave his best impression of the family murdering tyrant that was Scar. Now, if he put some thought into it and really analyzed this, he would realize that with Norman being Scar he would technically be a hyena. Which...they never really did anything to really get all the glory. Sure, they helped out with Scar’s evil schemes, but Scar was the true star of it all, the real bad guy.

Then again, they were the ones that completely tore Scar to shreds and made them their supper after the whole throwdown between Scar and Simba, so maybe they had gotten the last laugh - literally - in the end, but Roswell wasn’t here to analyze Disney villains and compare them to himself and Norman.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when the Scar to his hyena returned. At first glance, Roswell couldn’t help but choke out a laugh. ”You look like one of those new Lucky Charms unicorns,” he chuffed, unable to stop himself from saying anything about Norman’s new outfit.

Face burning a bright red, Norman shoved his hands into his pockets and gabbed the keys off his desk. ”I had my brother pick some random clothes for me, should’da known he’d pick something like this,” he grumbled under his breath, already starting towards the elevator. ”He’s got no sense of fashion or apparently, discreetness,” he continued, turtling into his hoodie as he got onto the elevator, figuring Roswell was following.

Honestly, at first he had meant to pull some sort of half made lie and use it to save face, but the second Roswell commented on his outfit, it all came tumbling down. Norman was already the shortest guy in the precinct and as far as he knew, he was just the shortest person here in general, women included. He had to do a lot to keep a reputation going and even more to seem vaguely cool and threatening. No one took him seriously and it had taken him a long time to get it through the precinct’s heads that he wasn’t someone to be messed with.

Then it all came tumbling down with one rainbow unicorn hoodie.

Luckily, so far, only Roswell had seen him like this, and maybe he could keep it this way and stop himself from losing the reputation he had fought so hard to get.

As soon as Roswell mentioned that honestly no one would expect to see him in this, Norman’s eyes lit up slightly. He was right, which meant Norman could’ve totally played this whole thing off as him trying not to be recognized. Sure the colors were bright, but it wasn’t his style...not that Gail would know that, but it still worked. Either way, he had missed his chance to lie through his teeth about the outfit in question.

”Yeah, well, my hair’s a pretty big giveaway,” Norman countered, shifting slightly in his spot. “And my height.” He added silently, fidgeting a little more. Honestly he didn’t need to be a downer on Roswell’s good point, but there was still a part of him that had the strong urge to be right. It was bad and he was aware of that, but he couldn’t help it, it was like instinct to him.

Remaining quiet for the rest of the elevator ride down, Norman stepped out and headed out of the precinct. ”Since we took my car there earlier, I figure we’ll take yours this time, where do you have it parked?” Norman asked, looking up expectingly at Roswell.