died8yearsago: (coffee break)
Rosa was on her way downstairs to the office to get some more work done, but while in the process of making her coffee and getting some breakfast, something else happened that was far more interesting.

So there she was, leaning comfortably against the kitchen counter with her coffee, watching her adorable idiot dog getting stymied by a lazy susan in a cabinet. And she was probably going to be there for most of the morning now, too.

This week was seriously starting to seriously make it up there as a contender for the best week ever.


[[ like this could enter my life and I wouldn't want to immediately do something with it. Open! Though with probably flakiness involved ]]

[[ also i know what day it is, shush ]]
died8yearsago: (disturbed frown thinking)
So Rosa's day had, inexplicably, seemed to have started with her riding her motorcylce up the causeway on her way back to Fandom. Considering that she was pretty sure her day yesterday had ended with her in bed in her apartment, that was a bit...odd. And there was that island, and there was the marshmallow snow, and then, when she felt like she was pretty much just tracing her steps to get back to the apartment, there was...

The giant pink stuffed dog. Right there in the living room where she'd found it yesterday, and she'd have maybe thought Miguel had just moved it back, but it was easy to see that the large rip she'd cut into it wasn't there, either.

"What the fuck."

Well, if her suspicions were correct and the day was somehow on repeat of the day before, at least that hopefully meant it would be the same for Tightpants, and he'd arrive at any second to give her coffee...


[[ and open, especially if you have a)tightpants and b) coffee ]]
died8yearsago: (dafuk?)
So, after all that time, the whole case wound up being a bust, because the guy had actually turned himself in and the entire thing was called off...right when Rosa had managed to get a spot on the choir, too! She was honestly super pissed about it, she had been looking forward to that, but she supposed the silver lining was that she could finally get out of that convent and back to Fandom, which....okay, she would have totally rocked it in that choir, but it was good to at least not have to wear a funny hat all day.

Of course, she'd noticed the compound on an island off the warehouse distract pretty much from the causeway, as she rode her bike across it and started to already wonder what the hell had been going on while she was away. But that wasn't nearly as disturbing or upsetting to her as what awaited her once she made it back to the apartment.

Because a giant stuffed pink dog that looked like some kind of carninval prize sitting in your living room was the last thing you wanted to come home to after spending almost a month with a bunch of nuns.

Or pretty much under any circumstances, really.

So Rosa, dropping her helmet and her suitcase, just took a moment to stare the thing down as if challenging it, daring it to do anything stupid and Fandom-esque, and, once she realized that it really was just a large stuffed very pink dog...

She reached down to pull out a knife, flicked it open, and headed straight for it, because there was no way she was going to just trust that giant stuffed pink dog in her living room wasn't at least somewhat bugged or tapped or something otherwise messed up.

Which was going to be a little awkward if it turned out to be, like, Miguel or Anna or something, because Jesus Christ, Fandom, she'd just gotten back, and already, you want her dealing with shit like that??

[[ open post is open, especially for certain tightpantsed people who live there! ]]
died8yearsago: (on wednesday we wear pink)
What a glorious morning it was! And Rosa was in a beaming, glowing, gorgeous mood to go with it. There was a spring in her step, a smile on her face, and a song in her heart, because how could there not be? Who needed to long for happily ever after when happily ever after was clearly right there in front of you?

And that song in her heart translated into the song filling the kitchen, as Rosa, dressed in a pink as cheerful and bright as she was, set to not only making breakfast, but also singing the Breakfast Song, which everyone knew made everything taste better, a song that narrated exactly what she was doing it as she did it and how wonderful it all was.

And her dearest friend Anna, who had been her faithful companion since she was just a small girl, was joining in on the song as well.

To Rosa, there was no voice sweeter than her dear Anna's, and that their voices were in perfect harmony. But to probably anyone else with ears, it was probably just howling noise.

[[ definitely open ]]
died8yearsago: (dafuk?)
The whole thing that Rosa had to take care of in Baltimore ended up taking way longer than it should have (thank a lot, Perk, and your lack of a very specific muffin!), as in a whole overnight thing, so she shot Tightpants a text letting him know and warning him that she'd be a little pissed if he didn't leave he leftovers. Brainstormed a quick idea with Blackstone for covering her class because she didn't think she'd get back in time for it, and then got to work, though most of it was trying to talk herself down from murder and reminding herself that she was working with these Baltimore assholes, don't shoot the people you were working with, Diaz...

But when she did finally get home later the next morning, dropping a few things off downstairs in the office before heading up to the apartment, leftovers and shooting Baltimore assholes were the least of her concerns.

Because the kitchen was an absolute mess. Her first immediate thought was that Summer fucking Smith was on another baffling bout of B&E, but the thought was fleeting, that didn't add up. Destroying things wasn't exactly her M.O.; she apparently just liked rifling through people's shit and being weird, and there was webbing, there were scratches in the floor, something had happened here, it had involved her boyfriend, and it did not look good.

"Miguel?" she called out, so you knew it was serious if she was using his actual name, moving into the apartment to check the bedroom. "Anna?"

At least the dog was there, in the bedroom, oblivious and dumb and gnawing on an old boot. "Some guard dog you are," she murmured, but she was too worried to be upset, moving back to the kitchen to get a better look at the mess, look for clues, wondering what to do now and that she should probably get a chain of information going before this blew up bigger.

"Goddammit."

She was seriously going to punch this island right in the face this time, swear to god...

[[ expecting one, but open after that! ]]
died8yearsago: (Phone)
Yesterday, Rosa had oh-so-handwavily had people from some sign company come and do the window for the new office, and she figured she might as well swing by the place and see how everything was looking now that she had more than enough time for it and should probably get around to finalizing all the reconstruction and finally get moved in and the business started.

It didn't take her more than three second after arrival before she was on the phone.

"Yeah, there was a reason I explicitely said to do the whole word, no abbreviations."

And then turned around to glare at that nice smoked glass window with the crisp, clean, noir-style lettering on it that proclaimed the new business to anyone passing by:

DIAZ & ASS.
Private Investigators


Considering who was moving in with her, the sign wasn't necessarily wrong, but...

[[ you know who you are and I love you. Also, it's open ]]
died8yearsago: (Default)
Rosa probably could have picked a better day to do this, but it was the middle of summer, it was probably going to be annoying hot for at least a week, if they were lucky, so she was just going to suck it up because she was getting a little restless about the next step in her whole....ugh, reinvention, or whatever that guru she'd encountered while hiking through Tibet had called it, and that meant finally getting to work on her new...offices, she supposed. And, as she glanced up toward the second floor of the building she was putting her name on, apartment.

"What a dump," she muttered, to no one in particular, as she moved forward to unlock the door and go have a look around so she can start making her remodeling plans and get a really good idea on what needed to be done.

It wasn't a dump; it was fine. She was just being dramatic. Shocker, right? Alert the presses. But open real estate was pretty tight on this island, so it was either this place, the place next door or the place down the street, and while the place down the street had a much better view of the ocean and the mainland, she just felt this place was the right one. If she believed in that sort of crap, she'd think it was tied into 7 being a lucky number or something, but that was obviously stupid.

So she was just going to be picking around and scoping things out and making plans and blueprints in a tiny notebook in the sweltering heat, and then narrowing her eyes slightly when she realized the jacket she'd laid down earlier had definitely disappeared, and maybe that was a sign that she should scope out the other places a little, too, just in case there was something wrong with this one.

[[ mostly establishing, but can definitely be open! ]]

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Detective Rosa Diaz

June 2022

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