Three Gun Angelo

Valentine could swear an entire family of migraines had moved into his head after the New Years trainwreck of a situation, but once he could manage to (without tripping over his own feet), he'd dragged himself out of his mansion anyway. He'd firmly refused coming into the station to talk with any police right away, knowing they'd both be swarmed and likely too busy to pay attention to him, and that he needed some serious recuperation time. He'd denied the hospital, as always, knowing it wouldn't help. What had helped was his own fucking bed in his own fucking house.

He made a firm note in his head that all these changes to be cleaner and more 'family friendly' were truly for the best. He didn't want a group of bitter thugs to show up at one of his future events and ruin his entire life, so he'd do them the courtesy of not ruining theirs first. Helena Campbell hadn't been born sitting in the lap of luxury. He had. Perhaps not growing any more greedy would be best, when keeping caution in mind. While empathy was low on Val's list of priorities, standards for a functional, cooperative quality of life were highly ranked.

Val decided he'd had enough of drama and danger from his child and teen years, and at this point, was ready for a cozier life. The older you got, the less tolerance for utter nonsense bullshit you had, and that had been a full load of it. Since he'd made up his mind not to be dragged down, this speaking to the police business needed to be done with as soon as possible. He could keep it brief. They might end up even further swarmed today, but at least Val was upright again and not crabby enough to bite anyone's head off the moment he spoke to anyone not his husband, so he could try.

He'd gotten up at noon. The breakfast was good, comfortable, and safe. He left the house a bit later and taken his car downtown. Even with his existance as a practical human migraine (perhaps that was what he personified, instead of death), he couldn't have missed that fluffy hair. Val slowed the car and squinted through his sunglasses, trying to register what this scene was, make sure he wasn't hallucinating.

He rolled the window down, leaning out a bit, eyebrows raised. "Nice machine gun, Angelo. I'd usually leave sights like this very much alone, but I can't not ask, this time. What happened? Nobody stole your car while the chaos was going on, did they...?" That'd just be a bad luck cherry on top of the already garbage sundae.

Valentine's brows went down again, furrowing lightly. "Ah. Well, I certainly hope you won't find it newly stolen, then. I'd say all the police buzzing around the area would ward that off, but then, there were looters hanging around when I left yesterday." He scoffed a bit at the last note. Shameless, honestly.

Then, Val trailed off for a moment, eyes intent on the machine gun. "…You know, I can't decide if seeing that in such a casual, broad daylight setting is amusing, or just plain bizarre. At least I can trust you aren't waving it about for the laughs. Some would. A few of those men back there definitely did."

After sitting back, Val smiled, dry humor at the edges of it. "Yes, that assumption is correct. Commenting on the gun was simply something that tumbled out of my mouth, as it's hard not to point out." He sighed and pressed a button to unlock the door on the passenger's side, nodding in that direction. "From what little I saw, and what more I heard, you had a huge part in keeping that situation from becoming more of a flaming heap of garbage than it already was. Having you walk, on foot, to the police station just doesn't sit well with me."

He waited for Angelo to get in the car, and couldn't help his curiosity, even though they were both tired. "They're busy. Everyone is. Of course. But are you aiming for a promotion, by any chance, or satisfied where you are? If they don't give you one, I think I'll be disappointed, frankly. We need more people like you in high ranks. You already preform well as an officer." If Val was-- well, gushing, it was because he was still rattled by the lack of good judgement shown from the rest of the people who'd been at that dreadful party. It'd reminded him why he'd ever been a nasty recluse in the first place.

He grimaced. "Either way, thank you for your work..." Another thing to add to his list of 'things he didn't expect to be doing in his adult life'. Feeling gratitude towards a cop, and wishing there were more individuals like him.

[tom=http://i.imgur.com/OxKuqIp.png, #483d8b]Now, since Valentine was married to a man who was the seven foot equivalent of a puppy dog, he shouldn't have been at all surprised over Angelo-- tall and tough looking, not to mention more serious-- seeming a little flustered by what he'd said. Despite better judgement, Val was surprised anyway. He chuckled quietly.

"Fair enough," he decided. "Even if none of us signed up for that, you're a cop. A good one. Staying calm under pressure and keeping people in order isn't a talent everyone has, even if it seems ordinary. Solid, practical skills that help the general community are important-- I've been learning that, recently, so I suppose I'm noticing it more."

He tapped his fingers lightly on the steering wheel and thought about Angelo's likely promotion, amused at how normal a topic it was in comparison to discussing the party. "That'd be fitting, I think. I really do hope you get a promotion, Angelo." Then, Jack the criminal fanboy could live with an even higher ranking police officer, and Val would continue to laugh.

Val gave the machine gun another glance over, then went back to driving. "I'm going to the same place you are, so it's not an out of the way trip. That said, did you need a ride back to your own car, after this? I don't imagine my account of what happened will be enlightening, since I passed out for most of it, so it won't take long to make a statement. Maybe that isn't needed, since you'll probably be jumped for information and paperwork the second you arrive... but if nobody else can take you, later on, my offer still stands."[/tom]