|Careful, there's monsters out there. Then again, there's monsters in here too...|
Part One- A Private JobIt was raining in Absalon.Part One- A Private Job by TheBuggiest
Dismal shopfronts that were hardly ever dry squatted on either side of the street, hiding behind the thick grey-black veil of precipitation. Cleo didn't need to see them to know what they were like: run down squares of brick, faded gang signs sprayed across the walls, neon lights flickering out of barred windows with promises of booze or girls. If she thought hard enough she could name off some of the store names and the people who worked there. It was part of her job to know the city, after all.
She and her partner made their way down the street in silence, apparently oblivious to the weather, before pulling up short under a building's tattered awning. Cleo looked up from beneath the brim of her fedora, squinting.
"This the place?"
Her companion nodded silently, expression incalculable from behind square glasses. He needn't have bothered; two thick-set men lumbered out the doors to meet them,
Current Residence: Third planet from the sun, usually called some variant of "dirt".|
Favourite genre of music: Heck if I know what they call it these days...
Favourite style of art: Whatever works.
Operating System: Brain.
MP3 player of choice: I quite like my iPod Balthasar.
Favourite cartoon character: Currently it's tied between Alfred and Harley from Batman the Animated Series.
Personal Quote: "The rumors of my life are greatly exaggerated."