The Impetus of Insolence

Hatchet

Blunt and Sharp
Please use the following character profile, do not link a character sheet from the gallery.


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Character Profile



Name -



Age -



Gender -



Appearance - This can be a photo image or a written description



Occupation - if applicable, includes student



Status - See
the rules


Self-delusion - one thing the character believes about themselves that isn't true



And - Three or four paragraphs of your character in action, not dependent on any other member's character. The structure of this RP is a series of interacting short stories. This sample is to give yourself a beginning grasp of how the character works.



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There are ten character openings.
Suggestions are: a PI, a mechanic, a journalism student, a stalker, a murderer, a pawn broker, an unfaithful spouse and/or their lover, a detective, a reporter. A character can have multiple positions (e.g. mechanic and stalker; reporter and murder; pawn broker and witness, etc)


I am expecting, though not demanding, discussion with other interested members to help build existing character relations. How much of that is OOC or carried on in PM is up to you.



As character profiles take a little time and some are faster than others, I suggest, though again don't demand posting a reservation for the roles you want. If multiple members request a role, we'll work something out in discussion.



If I am unable to get ten characters, but all the members are ready to go, I will start the RP and leave it as 'accepting' (unless for whatever reason four to six members make an epic plotline that just can't be disturbed by new blood).



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Confrimed



1. Ava Kowalski, car thief, stalker victim (Hatchet)



2. David ‘Zwei’ Kamf, hitman (Coko_Bacon)



3. Roje Jenkins, child of murdered parents, Independent Investigator (Britt-21)



4. Akatani Nakajima, student, serial killer (Red)



5. Brent Masten, detective [dirty cop] (Greyathena)



6. Jerrod Harkin, pawn broker (ninbinz)



7. Maxwell Thorne, Private Investigator (Grin)



8. Zachary M. Steinberg (TheKaosophile)



9. Rosemary Hathaway (Layna)



10.



@Greyathena and @Grin you are former partners. How you work out when, how and how you left it is up to you.


@Layna I accept your character but you need to detail or arrange her connection to a/a few specific other character/s.



Any questions, fire at the OOC or PM
 
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Hello, I'd like to request the detective spot or stalker. Whichever comes easier as I work on the character profile.
 
Name - Jarrod Harken


Age - 35



Gender - Male



Appearance -





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Occupation - Pawnbroker, Pawn Shop Owner.



Status - Pawnbroker



Self-delusion -That his pawnbroking business is a service to society



Jarrod awoke to silence, an odd thing given the nature of his neighbourhood. Immediately his paranoia sprang into action and he was searching his apartment for intruders. Sanity gripped him an hour later just as he was about to search the hallway for a pair of female twins born of the devil. Instead he went to go check the time. It was about 6 in the morning. He sighed inwardly at the early hour. Knowing he wasn't going to get to sleep without the soothing sound of sirens rolling down the street, he went to have breakfast.


2 hours later he sat in his office at his Pawnshop. He was going through a pile of paperwork he was avoiding. An hour later and he had it all filed away neatly and tidily. It was about 9 in the morning, Jarrod knew he wasn't going to get customers until around 10 so he spent the time moving items around the store. He had to use gloves, his condition made moving things with a long history a very dangerous act. His stock wasn't as filled as he would have liked it to be but it meant that he had room to buy more things. In the back left corner of his stockroom there was a metal cage. Inside it was an assortment of normal looking items; a set of butcher knives, a 9 Iron, a Chainsaw and a pair of antique shaving blades.



The shop was open. Lewis sat at the doorway watching customers as they entered and exited the shop. There was a man far more paranoid than Jarrod. Something the Pawnbroker liked about the man. Jarrod had a cloth in one hand and a spray bottle filled with glass cleaner in the other. He cleaned one panel of glass at a time ensuring that each was pristine. Someone coughed to get his attention. Jarrod turned around a pleasant smile already sitting on his face.
"How can I help you sir?" He asked his customer. "Well, I've got this Panasonic HD Camcorder and I was hoping to use it as collateral." Jarrod looked the boy up and down. "I'm gonna need your ID kid and I need to check if this thing is worth it." The boy nodded and proffered his passport, the kid was less than 18. He sighed and picked up the Camera. He pressed the on button. There were a few videos on the thing, Jarrod looked at one. Immediately his face blanched at what he saw, Jarrod snapped the screen shut and wrote down the boy's details. "This is stolen, I'm calling the police. Lewis!!" The boy panicked and automatically tried to vault over the counter, his face was however met with a fist and he went tumbling to the carpeted floor.


"Yeah, I've got to report a robbery. ~I've got him here. ~Yes this is Jarrod Harken. ~I own Checkmate Pawn on the corner of Chase and Rogue." Jarrod sighed, Lewis had taken the boy to the back and handcuffed him to a wall brace Jarrod had ordered exactly for that type of situation.


@Hatchet
 
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I think im going to request dectective/mechanic. Been watching a bunch of NCIS so im hoping maybe with another player as Dectective we could actually make a duo dective team like most RL situations.
 
I am going to play the mechanic's sister, the stalker's victim and a car thief.


@Kaine and @Greyathena, do you want to be partner detectives? I like the spin if one of you is also a perpetrator, even if it is classic.



*



Will edit as needed.



Name – Ava Kowalski



Age – 26



Gender – Female



Appearance –
could_by_nikosalpha-d5q1q4c.jpg



Occupation – office work in her
brother’s garage


Status – A perpetrator, part of the heist of 12 prototype sports cars



Self-delusion – Eva has a rude sense of humor than she thinks is clever, funny and other people just don’t understand. In reality, she stumbles over delivery of jokes, couldn’t come up with a pun to save her life, and often the things she teases about are insensitive, even belittling.



*



Allison’s hands were smeared with red earth; there were careless finger streaks on her face and dust all over her clothes, wet red mud caked on her lower legs. She was laughing even though Ava had just tipped an entire wheel barrel of seedlings whilst trying to be helpful and they scrambled to upright the tender green plants. Eventually, they would have a garden with a selection of vegetables to go with their pecan trees, herb garden and the tomatoes that had survived two years despite all misgivings.


Right now, though, Ava realized how much she trusted and loved Allison, who buried her sorrow in the garden and mixed it with her paints. She kissed the dirty fingers and they laughed at the red soil that got everywhere, was practically a color in some part of their home. Allison smiled until Ava told her she had to show her something, the kind of thing that could be bad. Her green-hazel eyes were still bright, narrowed a little with worry, but not enough to guess what Ava was going to put in her hands.



But Allison didn’t dwell on mysteries and didn’t pester for clues as they drove more than two hours out of the city and into Missouri where the land began crumpling into the Ozarks and the crisscross of rivers determined everything. The road trip demanded hiking near the end and Ava didn’t know if Allison really was that beautiful, sweat-streaked with strands of dark hair sticking to her neck and face and red from the exertion in the muggy heat, or if she was just afraid it would be the last time Allison looked on her with affection.



Jammed between rock outcroppings was a narrow natural fissure that dropped into a man-made tunnel, a section of abandoned railway from a played out mine. Ava used an LED flashlight to show Allison four prototype cars that she had helped steal last weekend while Allison mourned the death of a friend. While Allison slowly circled one car, then another, Ava held her breath and Allison held her future and freedom.



 
Name - David 'Zwei' Kamf


Age - 28? Lost count after 22


Gender -male


Appearance - A long-haired, emo albino with red eyes. He's rather muscular and stands at 6''4. He has scars on his wrist and chest. The chest scar is a symbol. An infinity with a slash down the middle. He wears a black overhead hoodie with loose fit jeans. Usually has a knife at his belt. On his feet, are simple grey and red tennis shoes. He top it off with a sapphire ring.


Occupation - Blacksmith and hitman. Hunts for sport. Friends with Ava, who isn't aware of his job, and learned about various metals from Zwei.


Status - Famous hitman, infamous murderer. Killed 20 people in a month, all had either committed a crime or got close to figuring out Zwei's doings.


Self-delusion - Zwei believes that he can justify murder if he killed people who 'deserve' it.


Zwei slowly walked to an alleyway where his hunt was to be found. He kept his bowie knife sheathed, incase there were more than one. Zwei kept his head low and well covered by his hood, which seemed to blend flawlessly with the night sky. He lifted his head at the sound of cheers, drunken chants and swears. He ventured further to find a gang. A gang drinking themselves to vulgar brawls.


Zwei smirked when his target was spotted in the crowed. A tall, buff man with dreadlocks and snake tattoos. Zwei walked in the midst of the arena forged of chanting bodies. He rudely forced his way to the middle, receiving various names and light blows in return. When he reached the middle, he knocked the two fighters out with a single blow to each. He lifted his head up, showing a smile on his snow white lips. Zwei announced coldly, "I came here for Marcellus. Tall man, dreads and snake tattoos." The according man stepped forward. "Whaddya want?" The 'Marcellus' character pounded his fist together. Zwei smiled as he slowly drew his knife out of everyone's sight. "I'd like to deliver your order: A niiice aass-kickin'" Marcellus widened his eyes and threw a punch. Zwei dodged it with the utmost grace.


The fight was on. Zwei smirked as he heard the chants. C'mon Marcel! Kick his ass! Show that sonuvabitch what for! Fukin' KILL that snowman! Zwei's blood-toned eyes widened and he grew an ear-to-ear grin. Marcel came charging at him with a kick ready. "Oh there'll be killing!" Zwei dodged the kick and got behind Marcel. Revealing his knife, Zwei stabbed him and replied, "You're right! The will be killing, but done by me." Marcell dropped, bleeding profusely out of his back. Zwei looked at the rest of the gang and bargained, "Keep your mouths shut, and y'all be okay." With no further comment to, or from, him. Zwei went on his way. Another ten grand well earned.
 
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Kaine said:
I think im going to request dectective/mechanic. Been watching a bunch of NCIS so im hoping maybe with another player as Dectective we could actually make a duo dective team like most RL situations.
I'm up for partnering if Klaine is. I'd also be willing to write the corrupt detective with a few troublesome vices.
 
Name - Roje Jenkins


Age - 21


Gender - You did not just ask that question.


Appearance -
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christinaburke15.png



christie-o.gif



Occupation - Mm...A Sneeky spy. Though, she only gets answers for herself. Also, just to keep her identity safe, she works in a cornerstore.


Status - Independant Investigator


Self-delusion - That she can be calm when she interrigates. Sometimes, its true but sometimes, its not.


(This woman is Short tempered, Smartass, cool to hang out with. But theres so much more...)


----------------


Things in [] is the main story. The things without the [] is the story to be told from the character.


[[Most people knew Roje as a nice and crazy party girl. She had friends and family to support her and keep her on her feet. Untill one day while on a trip, she found out her parents were murdered. Instantly, Roje lost it, her personality changing from Nice and a party girl, to a Short-tempered, smartass woman. She came home early from the trip just to come home and see the scene before her. Her parents layed dead on the floor.]]


Roje was having a good time on the trip with her friends, they were laughing and running about in the field and playing like children. PLaying the game Tag. "Haha, Cant get me George!!!" Roje yelled, running and laughing, only for the whistle to be blown by a teacher to get the attention of all the teens in the field and all around.


"Is Roje Jenkins here?" the teacher called out


Instantly, Roje ran over "Yeah i'm here. Whats up, Teach?" she asked, wondering why her teacher had needed her. Maybe it was for a talk with game plans since she was good at coming up with ideas.


"Come with me. I cant tell you here.." the teacher walked with Roje far from the group and spoke. He sighed "I got a call from the police."


"Dont tell me im in trouble! I didnt do anything wrong."


He shook his head "Thats not it." he ran his hand through his hair "They called me because...Your parents were murdered.." he looked at Roje, only to see her staring at her, her pupils small from the light.


Parents were murdered...no...nonono! They cant be dead! They're all I have.. Roje stared, having no response to this news. Inside, she felt like she was broken into billions of pieces. The ones she loved so much were gone. Slowly, she backed away from her teacher and walked a different way, completely lost in her thoughts. She had no idea what to do. Where would she go? She was old enough to have a job and take care of the house on her own and take care of herself. Roje stood next to a tree, her hands on the trunk of the tree, tears streaming down her face They cant leave me so early...not like this...


Hearing footsteps, this caused her to look at her 4 friends. George, Lilly, Tammi, and Damien. They all looked worried as Lilly and Tammi hugged her, causing Roje to cry more. It was like they knew that her parents were gone. Knowing Roje, she didnt cry all the time, so it was rare.


Another one of her teachers had got Roje and began to take her to a building where she can relax, but she demanded to go to the house and well..they didnt deny and they took her home..


~~~~(Skip)~~~~


Once at the house, she got out, looking at all the cops, ambulances, and random black cars. She approached the Yellow tape and went to go under when a cop stopped her.


"Where are you going? You cant pass this line."


Roje turned and glared at the cop "It is my house, I could do what I want." her voice was no longer sad, it was serious and cold. Her face showing no sense of sadness. She shoved the officer's hand off her shoulder and she went under the tape, going to the door of her home and walking in, seeing her Parent's dead bodies. Tears fell down her face once again, but she kept her face blank. I dont know what happened...if only I was here to help you...


I will help you. I will find who did this to both of you and I will make sure they will go into jail. she thought to herself before leaving the house, only to see her 4 friends there for her. They seemed to have come back too. They all took her in a hug. But she only stood there, not hugging any of them back.


[[She watched as investigators take care of the bodies and put them in body bags. Her hands clenched into fists and this is when she realized that she wanted to become an Investigator. On her own to be exact. She didnt want any help from anyone else. This wish was granted, causing her to work on her own and pass college. Insted of doing what she always wanted to do-Was learn music- she turned to investigating. This had caused her to become smarter, and more better at getting answers.]]


Roje grew older and went to college, finishing highschool and sliding right into college. There was no way she was passing this up right now. Insted of music classes, she took classes that required things like being a detective and having fake trials in her classes. Winning almost every time with the use of evedience. The more she studied, the more easier being a investigator got. Even with her short temperedness, she managed to scare her 'cases' in 'court' and actually make them spill. Her teachers said it was good and not good at the same time and keeping the cool was the best bet.


[[Since the investigators never found the murderers of her parents, she went ahead and did her own searches, only to get positive results and instantly took action on these murderers and throw them into jail for life. Ever since then, Roje has been independant but only to fall in love with her boyfriend Henry(Npc). Now she works at a corner store as a cashier just to hide her idenity unless someone comes to her for help. But being a cashier took its toll sometimes]]


Soon enough, as soon as she was out of college, she started doing her own investigation on her parent's death. Looking at the evidence that the detectives gave her so she could take a look on her own. The more she looked at the pictures and evidence, the more she was closer to the murder. And soon, she finally got positive results and got the investigators to look once more before accepting it and throwing these men into jail.


After that was solved, Roje had began working at a corner store. Some people came in, some didnt. But who came in the most was her boyfriend, Henry. Of course, they fell in love! Roje was happy to have him by her side and to support her. But sometimes, being a cashier really pissed her off. Like one time, someone walked in and looked pretty pissed as he slammed his bottle of beer on the counter. The anger on the man would reflect on her.


She glared and took the bottle, only to be rushed. Roje instantly stopped and she leaned over, grabbing the man from the collar, her hand in a fist "Do you really want to piss me off?" she asked. Now for a woman, she was strong because she worked out. When you're short-tempered, you're gonna need the workout. Instantly the man shook his head, obviously afraid before she let him go and took care of him. He ran out.


[[This isnt the end of roje's story...untill next time....]]


@Hatchet
 
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Name - Akatani Nakajima


Age - 20


Gender - Male


Appearance -

Eledia_Gakuen_vol__6_by_ruffhandsx10.jpg
EG_Screencap_by_ruffhandsx10.jpg
black-haired dude in both pictures except he has lighter skin. He's around 6'1'' tall and if you haven't guessed yet, he's asian.


Occupation - Popular and well-liked student


Status - Perpetrator/Killer


Self-delusion - What he's doing is always good or justified and that he is not doing anything wrong. He also thinks that he is always right because he is taking the side of the abused and wronged. He has a crooked sense of justice in that he isn't able to tolerate injustice.


Being an outsider, Akatani has always been on the outside looking in. Being in such a place, Akatani has been exposed to so much cruelty and racism. All of it hasn't fazd him one bit. Instead, he worked harder than most people. Giving everything his best effort. As years went by, he would gain the respect of those around him. But that didn't made him forget the feeling of being in such a terrible 'place'. Akatani was never the type to abuse other people and quite contrary was one who would stick his neck out for others. He was both well-liked and disliked for this reason.


At the moment, Akatani was deep in thought. He was angry how those people in power could get away with bullying the weak. He was feeling his anger swelling up within him. It was eating him. He couldn't feel the rain as it was hitting him. The cold sensation from the rain couldn't bother him. He was in a trance-like state. There was already a person tugging on his shoulder and he was saying something. All of it was a blur for Akatani.


"Dude! Stop it already!" The other guy tried to urge him. Akatani came back to his senses. The man he was helping was now asking him to stop. "Dude, you're gonna kill him! Stop!" as Akatani heard those words, he remembered what he was doing. A trio of misfits were giving another person a hard time and it caught his eye. They were continuously harassing him. It was just fate that this time, it happened when he was around.


Akatani pulled himself back and stopped. He was also surprised at what he has already done. After a short moment, he remembered every detail of it. He didn't feel regret nor any form of remorse. The trio were a bloody mess, all beaten up. "C-call a doctor." said Akatani as he stuttered. "I'm really sorry. I was just trying to help!" he told the other person.
 
Name - Brent Masten


Age - 35


Gender - Male


Appearance


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Occupation - Detective


Status - Criminal (stalker, among other crimes)


Self-delusion -Thinks he’s still the top-of-his-class hot-shot detective that he was in the beginning of his career but he’s lost his touch.


Some background- Brent was always the golden child of the academy he trained at and the first few years of his career as an agent were astonishing, but he was soon forgotten as his luck turned south and the more interesting high-profile assignments were turned over to fresh faces. He eventually left his department and ended up in Praesul, where he quickly adopted a slightly more lucrative albeit shady double life.


Brent Maston ran a hand through his usually well kept hair and took another swig of his drink. A cheap vodka on ice, a disappointing drink to a man of his tastes. He sat down in the leather armchair in the darkened living room and waited, the cell phone ready in hand-the sound off. He closed his eyes. What he really wanted was a long dreamless bout of sleep to wash away the day’s excitement.


“Hello.” He spoke softly into the phone a moment after it vibrated. “Yes I’m here.” The home was rather nice, well decorated, airy. It was clear the residents took good care of it, he only wished they had something a bit better to drink. He considered what the voice on the other line was telling him for several long moments. “Yes. I think that can be arranged.” He said and hung up the cell.


The residents kept their spare key in a drawer under the microwave. Brent used his sleeve to slide it open and remove it. On the counter top a small black box lay where he placed it when he arrived. Carefully, he opened the small case and pressed the key into the putty there before closing it. He whistled as dumped the remainder of his drink down the sink and rinsed and dried the glass. He had no qualms about being caught, but was careful, meticulous in remembering to wipe down any surfaces he touched. He opened the box and removed the key, pleased at the nearly flawless impression of he key. It would cast well.


He left the house locking the door behind him. As he walked into the street his phone vibrated in his pocket. He looked at the number, it was his partner, and waited two rings. “Hello?” His voice was groggy now, as he walked briskly through the night, his footsteps loud in the silence. He knew what it was that lurked in this city. “No no. You didn’t wake me. It’s alright.” He continued the sleep fading from his voice. “Yes that’s right. It’s a concrete building, the windows on the upper floors are tinted dark grey. It’s hard to miss.” Brent stopped at a corner as a car going far too fast raced through the red traffic light. “Alright” He laughed. “You get some sleep yourself. We have a busy day tomorrow.”
 
Maxwell Thorne




Age - Thirty-eight


Gender - Male


Appearance -


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Occupation - Private Investigation


Status - Investigator


Self-delusion - Still thinks he's doing right in the world. Doesn't think he's an alcoholic, either.


* * *




Buzzing. Something was buzzing. Without even opening my eyes, I fumbled around for the noise and heard something clatter down onto the dirty wood floor of my shitty little apartment. "God damn it," I heard myself say, though the words were fuzzy and mumbled. The headache jarred my eyes open then and I let out a rather impressive slur of expletives as I rolled to one side, manged to get at the trash can there, and met last night's food a second time. Helluva way to greet the early afternoon.


Wiping my mouth with one hand, I kicked away dirty sheets and dragged myself into a squat, swallowing down another urge to puke. That buzzing again. My eyes moved downward, ignoring the annoying blur in the corners of my vision, and settled on a cellular phone. A familiar picture was on it and a name. Good ol' Chief Watterson. I couldn't figure out if the guy was pleased with my results, or felt sorry for me. He'd been the one to shit-can me after-all. I'd deserved it, a'course, but it didn't make it any less of a kick to the nuts of my comfortable life. One look around my place solidified that fact.


Hell, plenty of time for self pity later. Get it together, Thorne. Not the time, or place. Maybe tonight. With that thought lingering in the back of my mind, I reached down and picked up the discarded piece of technology and unlocked it, only to have it start buzzing again. "Looks like I'm Mister #@$%ing Popularity today," I grumped to the empty bedroom, sliding to answer the call. "This is Thorne."


A voice greeted me. Loudly. I winced back for a minute, explaining to the Chief just why the hell I wasn't taking his calls. Well... lying to the Chief. Same thing. Not like I was really on the 'team' anymore. Not officially. But, money was money, and Watterson kept it coming when he needed someone like me.


For most petty shit, he hired off one of the young punks that he could push around and #@$& over on the cheap. Fine by me. Most folks, especially a police chief, didn't hire guys like me when they wanted something done on the up-and-up. I was a bit better suited to back alley information gathering and creeping my way through the gutters of our fair city.


The old me would have scoffed at that. The married me. Hah. Talk about a lifetime ago, eh? If the me now met the me from back then, I'd probably kick my ass ten ways to Sunday. What a sight that'd be. I realized that instead of paying any attention to the Chief, I was in my own head, thinking about the past. "Sorry, Watt, I'm trying to pay attention, but you keep breaking up. This phone of mine's a real junker."


I smiled. Another excuse, and this poor sod ate it up. Or pretended to. He must've really needed my help. "Alright, alright, I'll come down. Gimme an hour, yeah? I gotta' take out the trash and grab a bite," I explained. He retorted I should hurry, but backed off too quick and hurried to hang up. Little backpedaling weasel. Another smile. Maybe this day wasn't gonna' be that bad after-all.


I started getting ready, blurring my way through a shower and getting dressed. Yesterday's jeans - still fresh, right? Ha. Least they didn't get any puke on 'em. Breakfast was next. The shot of Jack that I had was so damned good, I decided to go for seconds. Hell, I even splurged on dessert. Gathering my things, I walked out the door, lighting a cigarette on my way down the hall as I passed a No-Smoking sign. The neon thing buzzed and flickered and I gave the glass case a rap, making it flash bright again like it always did.


It's the little things, ya'know?
 
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Hey can I have a detective spot? If its available? I'll work on my character in the morning then. (its 1am here, so I gotta get some sleep)
 
Character Profile


Name - Zachary M. Steinburg


Age - 24


Gender - Male


Appearance -


whenyoureoverthehillthemindmakesapromiseyourbodycantfill1.jpg



Occupation - Blogger, Mooch


Status - Reporter...ish


Self-delusion - That


"Oh, no. Oh, no. I don't want to die, not like this." Zach wipes sweat from his forehead with the sleeve of his 'It's a Trap!' T-shirt "Am I the only one on defense here? Need help, bottom lane! BOTTOM LANE!" Zach lets out an exasperated sigh as his headphones blare "You have been slain!" into his ears. He grabs a pretzel from the bag on his desk, and says "And we are officially screwed" before popping it in his mouth.


"You okay, honey?" a voice calls from upstairs


"Yeah, ma, just yelling at my stupid team"


"Okay, dear, just be nice, you need as many friends as you can get! You know, I heard Darlene Stravinsky's daughter, Michelle broke up with her boyfriend, and she is just the sweetest thi-"


"I DON'T NEED YOU TO SET ME UP, MA! Plus, Michelle Stravinsky talks to dogs, she's nuts. Completely batsh-"


"LANGUAGE, MISTER! And don't you interrupt me, young man. Now, how many eggs do you want with your waffles?"


"Three, ma. Please and thank you." Zach rolls his eyes and takes a swig from his bottle of soda just as his team loses the game. He quits the game as fast as possible, not wanting to see the effect the loss had on his rank, then goes to his blog to see any new responses. "Hate mail, hate mail, hate mail, ooh! A whole fleet of experimental cars went missing? Well thank you... "XxShadowXKillaxX" this is obviously the work of government agencies that will bug the cars, then, after a very convincing "search" return the cars so that the factories and businesses can be monitored."


"You're talking to yourself again, sweetie"


"I know, ma." Zach says, disentangling himself from the mass of wires coming from various devices on his desk and walking up the stairs. His mother's house is quaint, like the perfect image of the American, nuclear family as depicted in everything from the 1950s, right down to the white picket fence encircling the yard. Up until you see the basement where Zach lives, the place exudes calm and comfort, and there is always the smell of cooking, whether it is like right now, with the smell of eggs and waffles filling up the morning air, or every night, with a different kind of pie or coffee cake on the counter. The walls were adorned with a faded floral wallpaper, and the light brown furniture had faded to match. The house was old, but it didn't feel decrepit, it felt lived in; homey. As Zach lumbers to the small dining room table, already set with his plate, he runs his fingers through his hair and smooths his shirt. He hasn't showered yet, but he could at least be presentable.


Dinner goes quickly, and, since Zach's father died a couple years ago, quietly. Zach and his mother almost never talk face-to-face, there is always a staircase separating them. After he showers, Zach calls a goodbye to his mother and takes the keys to the Suburban. Messenger bag, laden with laptop and accessories thereof, slung over his shoulder, Zach heads to Cafe Galactic, the local coffee shop next door to a comic book store, and Zach's main source of gossip. Nerds love gossip. What does the universe have in store for me today? Zach thinks as he scans the empty room and the people walking past. With my luck, more than I can handle. The universe has an amazing sense of timing.
 
REMOVED





Name - Rosemary 'Rose' Hathaway


Age - 20


Gender - Female


Appearance -


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Occupation - Student, Private investigator.


Status - One of the best shooters of the private investigation firm she owns with her brother. Youngest private investigator in town. Known to be one of most popular investigators.


Self-delusion - Rose believes she can take over a task all by herself. She likes being independent, and doesn't trust anyone except her family. She often gets into trouble for not obeying the rules and ends up in life threatening situations.


Character in action -


Rose stood in front of the artificial man made of paper with circles of tired painted on it. She stood a few yards away with her favorite Glock in her hand. She checked her ear-muffs and positioned her arm straight ahead aiming for the target. She shot all the bullets without stopping. The sound echoed in the room. She took off her glasses and looked at her shots. Bull's eye. All of them.


She smirked to herself as she thought of the criminal she caught that day. It was raining heavily for almost two hours, when she finally got a hit on the man's location. He had been hiding in a stupid safehouse for the last two days, trying to keep a low profile. Well, it wasn't low anymore.


As a habit, Rose didn't inform anyone of what she found and left for the place with only her gun and car keys. Parking her car, a few blocks away, she got out and carefully reached the safehouse. She entered through the backdoor, drenched in the rain, her gun lowered as she quietly made her way towards the hushed voices coming from the hallway in front. Suddenly, her heeled boots creaked on the wooden floor and the sound echoed. People started shuffling around, as she quietly hid herself in an alcove.


As two men approached, she kept her gun back in the holster and grabbed one of the men's extended hand, twisted it in an ugly angle. She quickly positioned him in front of her as the other guy shot at her. Shoving the dead guy away, she took his gun and shot him. More men approached her, all abiding by the criminal's orders.


She knocked the first two with solid punches in their faces, the next two with kicks and the rest of them with their own guns. She noticed the culprit escaping, so she ran after him.


As the rain pelted down, she threw herself on the guy, crashing both of them on the gravel of the road. He punched her, as she kicked him in his shin, hitting her elbow in his face. The struggle continued till Rose finally hit him square in the face. As the guy lay on the ground wincing with pain, she took out her gun and pointed at him. "Game's over," she said as her brother's came to a stop.


She put her gun back, and strutted away before saying to her brother, "He's all yours. You're welcome." She ignored all the words coming from her brother.


[[please let me know if anything is wrong]]
 
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Name - Karin Brooks


Age - 25


Gender - Female


Appearance -
tumblr_lt9c2phZfi1r3237qo1_500.jpg



Occupation - Student, Reporter


Status - Criminal (Rape)


Self-delusion - Karin finds herself to be distant from others because she is afraid they'll dislike her for her abilities and quick thinking. She was never good with jokes and found herself to just make small sarcastic remarks. In reality she doesn't like getting close to other people. If she ever did it was because they showed her something she liked or had a higher intellectual mind than her. As far as jokes goes, their more like death threats since she sucks at delivering jokes. Her sarcasm is nothing but rude truths and showing you how your life is meaningless.


*


Their she sat with a note pad and pen, watching her boss pace from the left to the right side of the room. She used her right hand to slip her pin under her left thumb so she could push her hair back behind her ear. She couldn't find the words to say or a joke to lighten the mood. "If I might add, we got the biggest scoop out there." He hissed as he plopped down in his chair and slammed his hand on the desk. Karin jumped a little as she looked away toward the opened door where Becca had entered. Karin gave her the eyes to leave quickly before he lifted his head. "IT IS NOT THE SCOOP I WANTED." Becca jumped and quickly shut the door as Karin's shoulders went up.


She turned her head back toward him and watched as he lifted his head to give her eye contact. He had terrible bags under his eyes and he seemed paler than he usually was. "You should get some rest, leave everything to me ok." He shook his head no before turning around to look out the window. "The murders, the theft , the rape...those are scoops that I want, they are what I need. I can't keep having people bring me petty things like someone staling a muffin from a bakery. " Karin nodded her head as she wrote down a list of what not to do. "Can you give me that Karin, can you give me those scoops." Karin paused for a second and thought to herself. "I can." He lifted his hand and waved her off, a dismissal she always hated.


Getting up from the chair she left the office, closing his door quietly and exciting into the busy hall. Becca stood there with a coffee and papers in her hands. "How did it go." Karin groaned as she gave her the eyes of stress. Becca frowned as she watched her leave .Karin entered the busy streets with a camera around her neck and her pad in her chest pocket. "You want a big scoop...I got you a big scoop. " She gave a sly smirk as she began to walk with others on the sidewalk. It was about time for another hit of her's to go down.
 

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