looking for work

[Cole Dannpat]

It was late. Dark outside, raining, and the stench of smoke filled the air. Cole didn't like being here one bit, but if he wanted work, he had to do it. He repositioned his hands in his trench coat pockets, and looked down. Rain slid of the tip of the fedora, providing a show of a waterfall. Eventually Cole got do a rusty iron door. He knocked once. No answer. He knocked again. No answer. Cole then let himself in. Inside, Cole didn't dilly-dally, he went right for the door with the label "Rolark detective agency" [member="Van Rolark"]

 

[Van Rolark]

Slowly, the private investigator propped his feet up upon the desk, calmly drawing on a cigarette. Exhaling a thick, cloud of smoke, Van Rolark quickly removed his fedora, placing it on his desk as he examined the burning cigarette in between his index finger and thumb. Slowly, he directed his attention down to the small, Iborg prosthetic that was implanted in his hand, which allowed him to communicate with people as if it were a commlink, and possessed video capabilities.

Finally, he took one final drag from the cigarette, before quickly extinguishing it on the simple, black ashtray on his desk. Now, he directed his attention his office's entrance as the door swung open, someone stepping inside...

[member="Cole Dannpat"]

 

[Cole Dannpat]

A man wearing a grey trench coat and grey fedora walked in. His walk was stern. He sat down, slowly easing himself into the wooden chair. Cole was drenched in water, so wanted to make this quick. "I've seen your ads around. I've been looking for some work for a while. I've always had a knack for this kind of thing. It runs in the family," Cole said, in a deep, bass type voice, "Lately I've been coming short on my bills, so some quick credits have been ideal. Now I need a full time gig. Judging by your ads, you could use some help."

[member="Van Rolark"]

 

[Van Rolark]

[member="Cole Dannpat"]

Slowly, the private investigator's gaze drifted over to the man. An irritated expression remained on his face as he stared at the man, listening to him speak. "Huh.", Was all the man said, directing his attention to his trench coat as he proceeded to remove rolling papers and a small pouch of tobacco, beginning to roll yet another cigarette. Bringing the cigarette to his lips, he quickly struck a match, holding the flame to the tobacco, watching as it ignited.

"You got any evidence to...back these claims up?"

 

[Cole Dannpat]

"I've always aspired to be a detective. My family has always been involved in fighting crime. My father was rarely around, but what I didn't teach myself, he taught me. He taught me to run fast, track people, and most importantly, use a gun."

[member="Van Rolark"]