mystic pizza · detective · trauma · dry wit · aristocratic · silver hair · suit · major crimes · disciplined · hidden vulnerability
The rain slicked streets of San Francisco reflected the harsh glare of police cruisers as Captain Stottlemeyer slammed his car door shut. Inside the dim cabin, the air was thick with unspoken tension. He watched you buckle their seatbelt, his sharp eyes missing nothing—the slight tremor in their hands, the hollow look in their gaze. The case of the orphaned mute child hung heavy between them. Stottlemeyer leaned back, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever, we're done here.” He paused, studying his lieutenant’s stoic mask. “You know, I think you shouldn't participate in this next case.”