dghda au where everything is a lil different and theyre gonna pull an epic casino heist like in those movies i know of but have never watched fully
todd “down on his luck 24/7 for nearly a decade” brotzman who bankrupted his parents lying about a disease he didnt have getting fired from his last job and is sorely in need of cash quick for amanda. somehow, this leads to him getting to vegas and trying cheat his way through a couple thousand dollars. he’s the unluckiest guy in the world though and just ends up getting caught by this scary intimidating dude named patrick spring who….doesnt turn him in and instead offers todd an out: join his team of ragtag individuals to steal a whole lot of money from a casino owned by gordon rimmer
(imagine theres plot here. rimmer killed patrick’s wife and now patrick spring is out to get revenge but to do that he needs a…not so elite team of people with skills useful for a heist)
(”what–” todd says very slowly. “–what skill am i bringing to the table?” he asks. he wasnt wholly aware that he had any, especially not one that patrick spring could see at a glance where all todd was doing was failing so bad at everything.
“bravery,” spring tells him. and before todd can refute anything, spring continues with “you’re are, by far, the worst poker player i’ve ever seen. and yet you still played. that takes guts.”
“the word you’re looking for is stupidity, actually,” todd says. “but whatever, i’m in.”)
SO other members of this heist team include farah black, patrick’s head of security, one woman army, and gorgeous ball of anxiety. she is So Against All Of This, something she tells all of them repeatedly while cleaning her guns, but she isnt Against It Enough to actually not be complicit.
(”i can’t do this,” farah says.
“you don’t have to. you’ve already done so much for my family, farah,” spring pinches the bridge of his nose. “you can genuinely leave whenever you want, it’s okay.”
“no. i’m doing it,” farah says.
theyve had this conversation like eight times. todd has witnessed the last five. he’s been keeping tally on the bottom right corner of the heist plan whiteboard)
other OTHER members include tina tevetino, explosives specialist, architecture nerd, and coincidentally huge fan of the mexican funeral. (”i’m gonna rob a casino with todd fuckin’ brotzman”). bart curlish, a woman who literally introduced herself to the rest of the team while still covered in what worryingly looked like fresh blood, a single black cat that seems to have just wandered into the warehouse theyre all calling base. and the last one, the strangest one of them all, the one who comes in with a yellow leather jacket and a smile too bright for a plan this illegal, the one todd, for some reason, cant stop thinking about: dirk gently
dirk gently who seems to be the luckiest man in the world
dirk explains himself with this whole spiel about the interconnectedness of all things which nobody fucking understands until spring makes them all play blackjack and dirk wins every. fucking. time. dirk cannot lose at anything. slot machine? jackpot. craps? winner each time. poker? despite being the world’s most open book, still manages to clean the floor. even bingo, for fuck’s sake. when dirk crumples up a piece of paper and throws it over his shoulder, it will land in the garbage bin no matter what. it’s like lady luck made out with dirk behind an alleyway and todd is going to stop the metaphor right there because he doesnt know why thinking about dirk making out with the hypothetical construct of luck made him so upset
(”do you think he counts cards?” farah asks todd as they both watch dirk rummage through the fridge for something edible.
“i dont even think he can count past a hundred,” todd says.
dirk pulls his head out of the fridge holding a square thing covered in brown paper. bewildered, he asks, “why do we have an entire block of cream cheese but nothing else?”
“that’s C4, man,” tina passes by, easily plucking the literal explosives from dirk’s hands.)
anyway, it’s all very action-y. lots of romantic tension between farah and tina, and todd and dirk during the planning stages of the heist. the only thing bart has tension with is the order not to kill people yet. the only member of the team that doesnt give patrick spring a headache is the black cat, and he genuinely wonders if he should give it a cut of the profit just for that. they do the heistplan! things goes wrong! they dress dirk in a suit! nobody can keep their barely concealed pining out of the comms! bart kills somebody with a a martini glass! big fun for everybody
i lost my train of thought here like after the 3rd sentence, but yeah
“Terrible as it is, it’s easier to cling to the hope that there were good reasons for what they did. That the people who treated him well were at heart good people, and they hadn’t just been lying to him the whole time, that the small amounts of affection he’d been given were real and tangible. Even when he knows the truth somewhere deep inside it doesn’t mean he wants to acknowledge it.
But, like all things, it’s only a matter of time.”
*** The only thing Dirk Gently has ever learned to do with his trauma, is shove it down as deep as it will go, lock it away, and hope that ignoring it means it isn’t really there. For a while at least, it works. But when the past comes knocking looking to make amends, and pretending that none of it was as bad as it seemed isn’t an option anymore, the delicate balancing act he’s been practicing for years finally tips over the edge.
Healing is painful, recovery isn’t linear, sometimes you have to tear everything down before you can start to rebuild.
His own demons might be the scariest thing he’s ever had to face, but it’s not something he has to do alone, and in the end that makes all the difference.
Dirk has learned by now to expect the unexpected, but no matter how he tries he can’t prepare himself for everything, especially when it comes to things he’s been trying not to think about.
When something he’d thought he’d lost forever comes back to him, he’s not quite sure what to do.
I’m back! Chapter 2 of my long, ambling journey through the ups and downs of trauma recovery. This chapter took longer than I thought it would, but it’s a little angstier than the last, and marks the first of many turning points in which Dirk will have to come to terms with the impact Blackwing has had on him.
Why has no one realized that they could just put “Todd and dirk gentlys holistic detective agency” on the plaque
dirk doesnt wanna muddle the sign with any todds or farahs!!! dirk has a humbleness to him but also an understated In Your Face-ness that isn’t quite vanity that makes itself known through bright outfits and a gigantic fucking plaque with his name on it. did i say understated? i meant completely stated and In Your Face.
i like to think though that todd puts like a sheet of paper that has over dirk’s name on the plaque with TODD scrawled over in marker. todd does this when dirk does vaguely annoying things. like when todd realizes that dirk has been sneaking his own paperwork onto todd’s pile. or when dirk keeps stealing his stapler when he has a perfectly good one of his own. or when dirk keeps tracking mud and dirt into todd’s apartment (which raises two questions in todd’s mind: 1) how do you keep managing to get so much grime on your shoes, dirk, we go to the same non-muddy places??? and 2) dirk, you have your own apartment, why are you in mine?? though that second one is less of a priority because todd doesnt really mind that dirk’s here a lot (perhaps might even go so far as to say he…enjoys it greatly…) he just minds the perpetual state of mess that follows dirk, quite literally, by the soles of his shoes.)
todd doesnt really realize his mistake until maybe the third time he does it and dirk pouts at the plaque then says something like “todd gently does have a nice ring to it” before immediately scuttling away to another room to leave todd in a crisis. todd’s an idiot who’s only been putting his name over dirk’s first name and forgetting about everything else. todd very hastily pulls the paper off and tries not to think about that middle school cliche where you write in the margins of your notebook your crush’s last name affixed to your own.
”todd gently….” farah says from where she’s at her desk, having seen the entire thing.
“shut up,” todd crumples the paper and tosses it at her face. she catches it and looks way too cool in the act for todd to feel any satisfaction. damn it.
sometimes i remember how bart was allowed to be so utterly disgusting and is truly one of the least sexualised women i’ve ever seen on tv,,,, she was so menacing and in some ways terrifying yet so innocent and adorable. and i just :D
or sometimes i remember how farah black was allowed to be so badass and capable but SO confused and neurotic and vunerable and i’m just amazed,,, especially as a black woman, who are still so often forced into a “kickass and untouchably tough” trope. she’s just allowed to be fuckinh weird and complex and that’s just :D!!!!!!
sometimes i think about amanda brotzman who is allowed to be angry!! she shaves parts of her head and rocks that “three days later and i haven’t removed any makeup but i just keep putting on eyeliner” look! she smashes and screams and she’s punk baby!! her chronic illness does NOT define her or even stop her and hey maybe it turned out to be useful in other ways but yknow what she was Out There way before that and she still fights through the pain!!! look at her go :D!