#the one thing you need to know abt godot and ray's cat is they stole it from their neighbor : )

[bloodxhound]

JUSTICE.

 Personal favors never held so much credence, though, previously, none had been as reliable as  Ray to keep his word.  It was not an industry standard to expect many that their words could be trusted, in, and out of court. Even now, it feels comfortably warmer in the room to hear the encouragement, and no joke to upset after, though his walking pace pauses, like waiting for a pebble to fall on his head.  it’s a perfect distraction to guide the little attorney to his desk by using the mug as formal bait.

“ You guys even have a cat? I thought the blue abomination was enough,  though I feel bad saying anything about Gumshoe’s hard work.” He lingers long enough to look at the dark drink, and then patter around curiously, fingers raised slightly as he is in search of something to add to the dark brew. “ Lemme see here-bup-ph” He murmurs quietly, until he can display the screen to Ray proudly; an artistic closeup of a calico cat’s face, wide, green eyes that are  utterly consumed with something off-camera,  begging to get a piece.

“Sure, that’s not intimidating. I think I’ll schedule it for a less active part of the day, if that’s all the same to you.” Another photo, the feline sprawled out, belly up with pink paws to the air, kneading the air, presumably. They are lovingly taken photos, though the ones between are quickly swiped through, until a wary thought leads him to pull his screen out of sight. “ He’s a stray- showed up to my apartment door and, he’s just never left. Gives me a reason to come home at a reasonable time, if I’m honest.”

��        𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐔𝐏𝐎𝐍 𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐃 that his hand stalls in its endeavor to provide himself with another sip from his coffee but hearing the other’s nonchalant judgement of what has, over the years, morphed into the poster child of the LAPD. “Hey, hey, hey,” he chides, tone too lax to be taken as anything more than mock offense. “That’s our mascot you’re talkin’ ‘bout here.” Irrespective of his own thoughts on its design, the blue badger has proven himself to be appealing enough to have persisted over a decade; enough to spawn an entire franchise even, complete with overprized merchandise and a theme park dedicated to it. “The lil’ guy’s real popular, y’know. You never been to Gatewater Land?” Finally he manages another sip, putting the cup down on his desk afterwards. “But to answer your question—there’s no cats here. Just the K-nines. The fleabag I was talkin’ ‘bout is mine an’ Godot’s actually. I’ll introduce you.” Not before he’s looked at Justice’s pictures though.

          No question about it; that cat must be the younger man’s pride and joy. A small albeit genuine smile tugs at his lips, turning into a knowing one when he notices the growing hesitancy the further he ventures down his camera roll until the phone is not so subtly withdrawn from his sight. Generously, the detective spares him a comment. On that matter anyway. “Aw, c’mon. Why so coy? I’m sure ev’ryone would be thrilled to match strength with you. Competition can be one hell of a motivator.” He pulls his phone out as well, uttering a faint, unbelieving snort. “Uh-huh. I’m sure your cat wouldn’t object to you livin’ a little. Just a thought.” After a few inputs, he makes good on his earlier word, proffering a few pictures of his cat in return. “Allow me — this is fleabag.” The first photo shows a well-fed, white birman, sitting on a couch table, face fully covered in googly eyes ( like some faux eldritch being ). “Cute, ain’t she.”