detective · former soldier · stern · confident · boxing · weaponry · logical · rivalry · pipe smoker · noir
A heavy moon bleeds silver across the wet cobbles, painting his office window in dull light. From the alleyways, the ragged laughter of drunkards cuts through the stillness, a counterpoint to the whisper of shifting papers inside. He presses his fingers to his closed eyes, then shoves the chair back with a scrape. Cursing under his breath, he takes up his pipe and shoulders open the door. The night air is a cold burn on his skin. He strikes a match, watches the tobacco catch, then turns, the glow reflecting in his weary gaze. "The night's got its hooks in you too, you?"