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 Post subject: Detective Agency IC
PostPosted: Fri Apr 08, 2016 10:34 pm 

Sort of back.

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Alexandra Silverman - The Director


Los Angeles, California
The abandoned warehouse
6:37 p.m.

“You had to go and get yourself killed, didn’t you, old man?”. The young woman who had just said these words was speaking to herself. There was nobody else in the room Mr. Silverman had used as his office for more years than the next Silverman could count. Not yet, at least. She had called for everyone to come, but they shouldn’t be around before seven.

Alexandra had been there since five p.m., alone, pacing back and forth and thinking. Everything just felt wrong. Well, that was to be expected in some measure, Alexandra could supposed. Nothing was really meant to feel right once you lost a parent. Even worse when it was a parent like her father - a man who seemed to be immortal in her eyes. And now, he was dead.

And police was trying to convince her that it had been natural death. A heart attack. Sure, her father was not young. He liked his drink, and his cigars. But she would surely know if he had a heart condition, right? Maybe not, of course, but Alexandra felt that she had to tell herself that. And the gut feeling that something was not right was too strong to ignore. Maybe Tommy could help her - or at least help get the idea off her mind.

There was also another reason Alexandra needed to gather everyone in there. It might sound like an unnecessary formality, since Alexandra had already met every other member of the Agency before, but she felt like she had to formally introduce herself as the new Director. That, and she had to make clear for everyone that she didn’t plan on changing the way the Agency was run, and that she was fully aware that she was new to this and had a lot to learn. And yet, there was a sense of pride inside her. Her father had trusted her enough to trust the running of the Agency into her hands. And she needed to make it work.

“I’ll do this for you, old man. But I’ll also do this for me”, the young brunette whispered to the hat that was hanging off a coat rack at one corner. Picking it up, she put it on - it was father’s ‘business’ hat - and sat down, waiting. There was work to be done, and she intended on doing it. Finding out who had gotten Silverman was her personal business. The Agency needed to keep on going, as there were people who relied on it for a living. And that was what mattered now.


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 Post subject: Re: Detective Agency IC
PostPosted: Sat Apr 09, 2016 4:28 pm 

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Thomas Wong Lee - The Psychic


Los Angeles, California
The Abandoned Warehouse
6:43 p.m.

You could say that a private investigator's work was indeed private when it involved a case of murder in your own family. Alexandra surely had wanted to know a little more about this case obviously. That's why it made sense to Tommy to call him in. Sure, his thoughts may have been slightly conceded in this respect, but he was glad to be able to help.

Though she had been there for quite some time, he had only been able to arrive as early as 6:43 p.m. There was a breakdown in the electric streetcar system that caused him some trouble getting down there. While the operators of the service themselves had apologized that it was do to unforeseen circumstances, Tommy had to laugh slightly under his own breath while riding on the car.

Naturally he had foreseen that it would hold him up. Seeing as no one else had gotten here really on time, though, he didn't think that was going to be much of a problem anyway. One thing didn't make put him in good humor, though, and that was the genuine fact that he had lost a parent. Nothing about that had at all seemed funny to Tommy, no matter what he might have said otherwise.

Walking in with his long coat drawn around him without his arms in the sleeves, which would have looked odd considering the relatively higher temperature today, but it was true that Tommy was sort of a slave to fashion. That was yet another thing that had long displeased his parents.

Eventually he made it fully inside and expected that he was going to have to offer Alexandra some condolences, but anything that he thought of saying just came out wrong. Therefore, he had decided to say precisely what it was that he knew she would need to hear, even if it wasn't what she had actually wanted to hear right now.

Exhaling quite deeply, he removed his hat considering his was indoors and held it between a pair of gloved hands. What he was going to say was something that he figured she had already known. Still, his words might have at least been a conformation of what she had been thinking about that entire time.

"Your father didn't die naturally, and we're going to figure out who killed him. Yeah, I know walking like this is a breech of whatever rules we're supposed to abide by or whatever, but I don't care because I wanna get justice for your old man." Tommy then offered her an authoritative nod. "Yeah, I feel it...your father was killed toots, and whoever did it is out there poundin' the streets."


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 Post subject: Re: Detective Agency IC
PostPosted: Sun Apr 10, 2016 10:33 pm 
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Evelyn Meyer – The Disgraced Doctor


Los Angeles, California
The Abandoned Warehouse
6:45 p.m.

The newspaper still lay open on the table where she had been reading it when the call came in. Without turning a page, Evelyn sat at her small table staring out the window, swirling the scotch in her glass, remembering the day she had met Mr. Silverman. Buried in some city morgue, toiling with imbeciles to provide autopsies on bodies whose murders would likely never be solved. Silverman had come in like something of an angel, rescuing her from the slums. Not that he was an angel, God knew! But working at the Agency had been better than she had ever expected. It was challenging, and the mystery of the work kept her interest, despite the nonchalance she affected for her partners. And Silverman had made that possible, all for seeing talent in a disgraced ex-surgeon with an attitude problem.

God, but the man was dead! And now Alexandra to step into his shoes. Barely a girl out of grammar school, if Evelyn was honest. She was not quite sure what to think of the situation, really. She could always leave, she supposed; but what would she do? Failed doctor, apathetic coroner, now some sort of private eye. Well, there was always marriage! Evelyn laughed aloud at that thought, and took a good long draught of her scotch to clear the ridiculous notion from her head.

Checking the clock on the mantle, she muttered to herself, “Well, it's time.” After tossing off the rest of the scotch, and repairing her smudged lipstick, she threw her purse over her shoulder and headed out. Her tight, one-bedroom apartment was not too far from the warehouse that served as the Agency's headquarters, and the evening was nice enough that she decided to walk. It was not the classiest of neighborhoods, but at this time of day there was nothing to fear. Peering down one alley, she spotted a makeshift camp set up between trash bins. Dust-bowl refugees, from the look of their torn overalls and faded farm hats. It was still hard times for many people, even here. She supposed she should feel lucky to have any work, even if it did pay a pittance of what she had made at the hospital in San Francisco.

She walked on, her two-inch tall, black Oxfords clacking on the sidewalk and echoing off the brick walls of the surrounding buildings. The quiet of the street was almost oppressive, spurring her to walk even faster than her usual brisk pace. Somehow, the world felt a little less safe today.

She reached the Agency early, and found only Alexandra and Tommy inside. “Hell of a day,” she said, with a slight shake of her head. She hung up her bag and made her way to where Alexandra was sitting. It felt as though words were required – some bond of sisterhood, or some such farrago. Or maybe it was because she had lost her own father not so long ago. But Evelyn wasn't good at sympathy. And words felt… empty, at this point. In the end she opted for a simple, “How're you holding up, Alexandra?” She tried for a supportive expression, but knew it was a failure.

Taking refuge in sarcasm, she turned to Tommy and asked, "Well, what do the stars say? Who offed the old man?" She had always thought his "psychic" abilities were a bit of a scam, and the smarmy coating they came in didn't help. His addiction to fashion and superior airs always rubbed Evelyn the wrong way. In fact, the only thing they ever seemed to agree on was the evil of smoking. It was then that Evelyn remembered the last thing she had ever said to Mr. Silverman, as he puffed on a cigar - "Careful, those things'll kill you one day!" She winced and bit her lip, turning her face away from Alexandra and Tommy to hide the sudden emotion that overcame her.


Last edited by Charybdis on Mon Apr 11, 2016 3:48 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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 Post subject: Re: Detective Agency IC
View Likes PostPosted: Mon Apr 11, 2016 3:44 pm 

OK, this looks bad.

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Bert Walder – The Retired Lawyer

Los Angeles, California
The Abandoned Warehouse
6:46 p.m.

Bert Walder adjusted his navy blue tie for the third time. Something wasn’t right with the knot. It felt tighter than it used to and wouldn’t stay straight no matter how hard he tried. With a growl, he took it off completely and shoved it into the pocket of his grey jacket. He didn’t need a goddamn tie. He was a professional with or without it.

Glancing again in the car window he had been using as a mirror, Bert studied the old man who stared back. The old man with tired eyes and a shirt bulging over a stomach born from weeks of nothing to do. It occurred to him that maybe he had been out of the game too long, lost his old tricks, the magic which made him a success. Nowadays, he couldn’t even tie a goddamn tie.
Bert shrugged it off and started walking towards the warehouse. He was just nervous. Mr. Silverman’s death had come as a surprise to him. He’d thought he would never hear from the Agency again. Without Mr. Silverman, there was no Agency. At least, that’s what he had thought.

But there was another Silverman he had forgotten about.

When he entered the room, he stopped for a second. Behind the desk sat Alexandra Silverman, wearing the same hat her father always wore back in the days when he was running things. She even had the same determined look in her eyes, the one he had seen in Mr Silverman’s so many times. It was like seeing a ghost.

Tommy and Evelyn stood on either side of her, the first two to arrive.

"Well, what do the stars say? Who offed the old man?" Evelyn said as he stepped in through the door. She already had her claws out and aimed at Tommy. Bert rolled his eyes. She wasn’t the only one who had trouble with Tommy’s gift, but Bert still respected the man. His dress sense was as sharp as his mind, two things Bert could appreciate.

“Glad to know you’re keeping it professional, Evelyn,” Bert said, placing his briefcase on the floor. “And I could smell your breath from the other side of the city, maybe you should lay off the scotch.”

With a nod to Tommy and Alexandra, he sat down in the chair, relieved that he could finally rest his legs again.

_________________
TO ADVENTURE!


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 Post subject: Re: Detective Agency IC
View Likes PostPosted: Mon Apr 11, 2016 5:09 pm 

the stars look very different today ★

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James Hartley - The Rookie


Los Angeles, California
68 Rosehaven Lane
??:?? p.m.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today...." James sat in a fancy white seat on the lawn of his cousin's mansion. Well, to say mansion wasn't entirely accurate, but to the young man who shared a room with his two sisters and couldn't open the fridge if someone was sitting at the kitchen table, it most certainly was. He was dressed in his nicest clothes for the occasion: a tan suit jacket and matching pants. They were a bit worn, and the sleeves just slightly too short, but no one had noticed so far. The suit had thin vertical stripes in a vain effort to make James appear taller. He was sitting as straight and proper as he could to increase the effect, and also so that his father wouldn't yell at him later. James wasn't a person for being fancy or proper and longed to fidget, but his parents had begged him to be on his best behaviour. It was a wonder he was managing to keep his mouth shut as well. He spoke all too much, but seemed to listen just as well, to the surprise of his former teachers. One teacher called him the "academic distractor": he listened carefully during lessons and finished his assignments early, but then went on to bother the people around him who weren't as inclined to work quickly.

Looking to his left, James saw his youngest sister Adelaide, who was 8, and his older-but-not-that-old sister Beverley, who was 12. They were wearing their best Sunday dresses. Addie, as James affectionately called her, had inherited their father's wavy orange locks. She was doing.... better. She had finally begun to play and go out to sit in the front lawn, but only if James or her father was there. Nothing could stop the nightmares, though. Beverly was so affectionate to her when Addie woke in the middle of the night crying. Beverly was quiet and had straight black hair and sullen-looking eyes, a complete foil to her two siblings. She had taken after their mother. She was sitting to James' right, with an unusually sour look on her face. James knew why. Her sister had always been such a ****ing, so it had come as a massive surprise when they had received an invitation in the mail for the wedding event of her daughter. Perhaps it had been a way to repair the broken ties of the family. James had little affection for a part of the family that wouldn't give them so much as a cent in their time of need. He knew the bakery was failing, even when his parents had tried to hide it. Beverly and Addie didn't know, and would hopefully never know. They would find a way to stay afloat. They always did.

The rest of the people around James were either estranged family or people he didn't know, besides his father. He felt no closeness to those people. He was more connected to a single coworker at the agency than the lot of them. Mr. Silverman had let him in to the agency, Alexandra was warm-hearted, Carol was intensely loyal, Claude was thoughtful and wise, with the energy of a man half his age; Thomas acted haughty, but was starting to break the longer James knew him. He thought Evelyn was devastatingly sexy for an older woman, but he kept that thought firmly, firmly contained. He trusted them all, even if sometimes he didn't like them.

The crowd began to stand and clap. James started, jumping up from his seat. He had missed the sealing kiss, not that he cared. He thought little about romance, and none of the girls had school had ever really struck his fancy. Clapping dispassionately, he turned to his two sisters and stuck out his tongue in a sly manner. Addie giggled, Beverly glowered, but in an amused way. Despite the lack of girls in his life, James had always liked the idea of being a father. He was sort of a second dad to Addie and Beverly already, getting them ready for school, giving relationship advice to the moody Beverly, and helping them with homework. It wasn't that their father neglected them, it was that he and mother both were so busy with the bakery. James understood that.

The ceremony was over, and everyone was heading to the pavilion tent. The sounds of a live jazz band filtered over the green space between the two areas, and people rushed excitedly to get on the dance floor. James grabbed his sisters' hands. Just because he didn't like his relatives didn't mean he wasn't going to enjoy the party.

The next few hours were a blur of activity. James ate, drank, and let his sisters dance on his toes. He had never been a good dancer, having bad rhythm, but he always loved to move. His father didn't touch the dance floor, instead sticking to the edges of the party and speaking to other men in hushed tones. James didn't like that, only noticing from a chance glance while swinging Addie in a circle on the dance floor. He didn't know where his mother was. Probably sulking somewhere.

Eventually their father came over to the dancing trio and told them they were leaving, much to the dismay of the two youngest, who knew little of the family affairs that made a normally joyful event so worrisome and draining. Addie's noises of protest were accompanied by a drooping head and closing lids. It had been a midday wedding, and now it was afternoon. They headed to the car, where their mother was already waiting. The car had been an investment when the bakery was doing well. Now it seemed like more of a burden, as they could barely afford gas. But as their father had said when they filed into the driveway that morning, the family had to look "presentable", also known as not financially unstable.

The car ride home was quiet, with the two girls nodding off and James strangely subdued as his thoughts traveled to Mr. Silverman. It was strange, but James had thought the man was going to live forever. Apparently not. James had always been extremely grateful and even awe-inspired by Mr. Silverman, and he felt he had never truly gotten to know the man. James had been to the funeral of course, but had felt somewhat out of place, sitting near the back row and only plucking the courage to hover within fifteen feet of the casket. He was essentially the agency's coffee-boy. Proud of it, but still. He always wanted to help out in a stronger capacity, and had offered up some useful ideas on cases before, but it seemed the other, older agents doubted his youth and inexperience. He needed a chance to prove himself, to really shine in the business.

"So I talked to Lewis," James' father said, so suddenly breaking the silence that Adelaide jerked awake from her dozing. James grabbed her hand quickly and gave it a gentle squeeze. I'm here, he thought as if he could project his mind to the girl, you're okay. Slowly she began to lower her head to door again.

His mother gave a sharp intake of breath. "No," she practically hissed, "I told you to never talk to that snake!" Her eyes were full of shock and a strange glint James had never expected to see.

"I did," his father said firmly, "and he put forward some very interesting business propo-" his eye darted from the road to the back seat, noticing that James was highly alert of the conversation. "We'll talk later," he said brusquely, focusing back on the road. James' mother gazed out the window, chin tilted in frustration.

They pulled in the driveway of their part home, part bakery. James gently carried Addie up the rickety stairs and into bed. He stared down at her with soft eyes. She got tired easily nowadays, and would probably sleep for an hour. Beverly had recovered from the activity with the short rest in the car, and thumped up the stairs shortly after them.

Slam. The door downstairs was thrown closed. James flinched, worried Addie would jump up. She didn't.

"I told you, I told you so many times," Mother's exasperated voice trailed from the bakery up to the shared bedroom, "he is not someone you want to make deals with!"

"For the sake of this business, and this family," Father's voice was firm like it usually was, "I went against that advice. Dear, please, can't you just listen to what he offered?"

"No." Mother was hissing again. James stroked Addie's hair comfortingly. She wasn't normally so assertive, sticking behind father in any decision he made, especially when it came to business.

James' focus switched as Beverly came into the bedroom. "I need help with reading," she mumbled, pulling at the sleeve of her dress. James looked into her dark eyes. She knew what was happening. She wasn't stupid.

"Sure," James said, pulling his hand away from Addie and following Beverly into the joint kitchen, living room, and dining room. Beverly handed him a Nancy Drew book with bright yellow binding as they sat at the table. Just like James, Beverly loved mysteries, though she wasn't the strongest reader. James did his best to change his voice and enhance the story, just like the people on the radio plays did.

"Chapter three," James began dramatically, "An Unpleasant Meeting." He drew out each word, pushing Beverly lightly with his shoulder. She tried to hide a smile, but eventually it broke through. He toned down the drama a little and continued to read.

"After her father had left, Nancy finished her breakfast, then went to the kitchen to help Hannah Gruen, who had already le-" the phone rang. James bounced up, placing the book on the table. "Sorry Bev," James apologized, picking up the handset. His heart raced, hoping it was the agency. It was. Maybe Thomas' powers were rubbing on him. Alexandra told him to come to the agency, putting the phone down before James could reply. She sounded agitated, which was really no surprise. Her father had died, after all.

James' father was now yelling, and so was mother. The house shook. They had never yelled at each other like that before. He looked over to Beverly, whose eyes were quickly filling with tears. He thought for a split second. "Grab your sister, Bev," he said firmly, "you're going over to the Sleemans." The Sleemans were their neighbours, an older couple had looked after James when he was younger, and babysat Beverly and Adelaide from time to time. They were one of the few non-family members that Addie wasn't afraid of. Beverly nodded, grabbing her book. She wiped her wet cheeks and ran into the bedroom. She came out holding the yawning Addie's hand.

They all walked quickly down the stairs. Mother was behind the counter, furiously waving a rolling pin. Father was shouting at her. "We're going to the Sleemans!" James shouted, not concerned whether they heard or not, instead focusing on tying Addie's shoes. The second one wouldn't go on properly. James couldn't see very well, trying to hide the tears welling in his eyes from his sisters. All of this stupid money talk was destroying their family. The money from the agency helped, but not enough. He wished they could go back to what they were like before Addie had gone missing, before the bakery started failing, before he finished school. Finally he picked Addie up and threw the door open, just as he heard a slapping noise come from behind him, followed by a loud cry from mother. He didn't look back as he shepherded Beverly out and closed the door just as fiercely as he had opened it.

He took the few quick steps to the Sleemans in a mist of frustration. He pushed his shoulder up to free one arm, and knocked on the door harder than he normally would have. Mr. Sleeman answered. "Oh hello James," he said cheerily, peering at the three of them through big glasses, "how are y-"

"Can you watch Bev and Addie? I need to go out, and mom and dad are-they're busy," James lied, placing Addie back on the ground and giving her curls a ruffle.

"Why of course we can," Mr. Sleeman glanced at James, concerned. "Son, are you okay?"

James had been hoping he wouldn't ask that question. "I'm fine," he lied again, giving Beverly a quick goodbye kiss, "if I don't come back in a few hours you can just drop them off at home; mom and dad shouldn't be busy then." giving a quick wave he left the house and rushed to the front yard to grab his bike. It was blue, and he had gotten it for Christmas two years before. It was worn, and he had been saving up for a new one. Maybe not, now. As he mounted the bike and began pedaling towards the agency, he finally let himself cry.

6:52 p.m.

James arrived at the agency in a skid, gravel flying up in the air as the tires dragged sideways. He got off his bike with more care, leaning it against the wall like it was a child. He took a deep breath before going inside. He needed to leave his personal life behind at work. He had always left the details of his family's financial status private, though he would blab on about Beverly and Addie to anyone who would listen. Many at the agency had met Addie, but not healthy, happy Addie. Thomas had been the one to break the case and find where she, and several other children, had been hidden, by a maniac James refused to even think about. For that, James trusted Thomas' abilities more than most at the agency.

The rookie detective found four agents, including Alexandra, already congregated in Mr. Silverman's former office. Alexandra was wearing her father's old hat. It was an emotionally charged moment.

"Coffee?" he asked.

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 Post subject: Re: Detective Agency IC
PostPosted: Tue Apr 12, 2016 10:48 am 
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Claude Baldwin - The Cooperative Police Detective

Los Angeles, California
Unnamed Forest Tracks
6:00 a.m.

“Come along, Claude! Has the agency turned you into a weak lil’ chicken already?” His younger brothers lovingly taunted, complete with clacking bird noises. To Claude’s shock, they turned around to look at him whilst still managing to run backwards at a great speed through the dense shrubbery and rough terrain that clung to their heels. God damn it. “Bah, you military chumps are too busy showin’ off your build!” With a late retort, Claude bounced harder on his heels to catch their pace and prove his Baldwin bones. It was a bit of a tradition for the four brothers to take fortnightly early morning training sessions together, though it was obvious from their movements alone which of them was the one that would rather spend more time in a crisp suit than army print. That being said, Claude was a policeman nonetheless, and was thankful for having a family that would help him train to be the best stealth, strength and shield he could be for spontaneous confrontations. Equipped with running gear and weights strapped via a backpack, the shrill chirps of a woodpecker cheered the quartet on through the weaving trees, and at last, their boots began to crunch upon the rocks at the end of the trail. “…You’re lucky I let you three wake me up at ungodly hours to do this… And that my next meeting isn’t… Until the evening… So that I can nap…” He huffed, but when he looked at them, their smiling faces seemed as fresh as daisies. Claude burst into an annoyed chuckle and puffed his chest. “Oh, you think you’re so cute? Give me your best shot, in the name of the law!” Raising his fists and shifting his weight side to side, he gave them each a hard punch on their muscular shoulders (which admittedly kind of hurt) and the group fell into a round of brotherly teasing and laughter.

“You go get ‘em, brother! We fight as one unit!” The image of the three of them offering Claude a confident salute warmed his heart as they parted ways, the morning buzz of a hummingbird accompanying his stride home.

After a nice nap, a shower and a fresh change of clothes, Police Detective Baldwin felt at himself now. His favourite dull but stylish brown suit straightened his shoulders, his father’s handkerchief stashed in his pocket. It wasn’t good to dwell on the past, he knew that, but Claude found himself jerking away a tear from time to time as his father’s cologne exuded from the cloth as it stimulated the past memories before his passing. For to him, he was a symbol of acceptance, of hope, beaming with pride rather than dismissal the day Claude showed him his police badge rather than one from the army. He would honour Chief Baldwin with his service in justice, he thought, glancing down at the pistol tucked away under his blazer. Picking the weapon up in his right hand, he observed himself in the mirror. Had this really been the twentieth year of doing this job? With a grin and a light shake of the head, he tilted his homburg hat in position and headed off.

The Abandoned Warehouse
6:54 p.m.

The mention of coffee first met Claude’s attention as he stepped into the meeting room, which already held most of his fellow workers. “Good evening, everyone,” he stood to the side of the room, donning his hat at the group, “coffee sounds grand.” Briefly smiling at James before looking around, Claude secretly saw a son in the young boy that he reckoned would be the ideal youth to raise had he gone that route in life. Young, quick and determined, the modern youth seemed so much more on top of things than he ever did at that age, didn’t they? Regarding the rest of the room, a somewhat tense air seemed to stir. “The hat suits you, Director,” he commented, wondering what conversation had taken place before he came by. The police may not have favoured the agency and its members as much as they were willing to, only giving them cases that would have otherwise been abandoned, but Claude knew what it felt like to expect something from someone too quickly. The police tended to favour assuming things right away, especially to please the public… But what sort of justice, truth, could that possibly bring? This case proved to need a bit more digging.

_________________
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Last edited by turtleteapot on Tue Apr 12, 2016 9:30 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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 Post subject: Re: Detective Agency IC
PostPosted: Tue Apr 12, 2016 7:47 pm 

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Carol Winston - The Investigative Reporter


Los Angeles, California
Cole’s
6:25 p.m.

Cole's was a good place to eat. It was one of the oldest diners in Los Angeles. It claimed to have invented the French dip sandwich. A claim that Philippe's argued with. Carol Winston didn't know for sure which diner truly invented it but she didn't care. She thought the French dip sandwiches in both places were to die for. Definitely one of her favorite meals. Although she wasn't at Cole's for the good food or a drink. She was here on business, but not Agency business.

Carol looked across at the table at a scared young woman. She had tried to hid the black eye with makeup but Carol knew the look of an abused wife. She had seen it too many times on her own mother's face. Had to hide it before herself, when beating Mom hadn't been enough for Dad. The woman had a baby boy on her lap and her three year old daughter was a coloring on a piece of paper. Not realizing that her mom was changing her world forever. She looked at the paperwork Carol had handed her in a manila envelope. Then she looked up at Carol with equal parts of fear and hope in her hazel eyes.

"You sure this will work?"

Carol nodded her head. Before she could reply, Trax said.

"Yeah, Lil Sis' ****...stuff is good. Real good, cuz."

Trax was a biker, a member of the Oakland Motorcycle Club. Trax had been good friends with her brother, Billy, before Billy had died in a motorcycle accident. The OMC had saved both of Carol and her brother. Although Billy was gone, she was still family to them. They were always willing to help her out and Carol was more then happy to return the favor. Especially in a case like this, it hit a little too close to home for her. The young woman was his cousin and her husband liked to beat her. He wanted to 'take care' of the butthole but she wouldn't let him. It had taken the cute little girl next to her being threaten to make her realize she needed to leave. To start a new life. Far, far away. A place where the butthole would never find her or the kids. Carol had foraged the young woman and her kids a new life. New names, everything they needed for a new start. Sometimes she wished her own mother had done it. Maybe she and Billy would still be with Carol if she had.

Carol reached across the table and gently touched the woman's hand.

"I've never had any complaints or had any cops coming snooping around. Trust me, you can try to protect them but unless you get away, they'll never be safe. You love them, right?"

The woman nodded her head, there was no doubt she loved her kids. Carol smiled at her.

"Then you need to give them their best chance. This will give them their best chance."

The woman looked at her kids a moment and nodded her head. She slid an envelope across the table. Carol's payment for the papers. She hadn't charged the woman and her kids nearly as much as she normally did. Hell, she would have done it for free but Trax and his cousin insisted she charge something from her trouble.

"Thank you."

The woman said and Carol replied she was welcome. She ate with the family, not keeping track of time or realizing that she had a meeting with the Agency to get to at 7:00 p.m. It wasn't until after Trax loaded up his cousin and her kids in her car, that Carol checked her watch.

"****."

She said. She'd never make it in time. She had to be there in ten minutes. Trax looked at her confused.

"I gotta a meeting to go to and I'll be late."

"I'll take you."

"What about-"

She didn't want him to leave his cousin and her kids alone. Especially once the husband found out what was going on. Men like that didn't like the idea of their punching bags leaving.

"butthole works the night shift at the docks. Hop on, I'll get you there and still have plenty of time to help empty out the house before he gets home."

Trax said, pointing to his motorcycle. Carol nodded and told the woman bye. She hoped that she and her kids had good lives. Far away from LA.

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

The Abandoned Warehouse
7:05 p.m.

Trax tried to get Carol to the warehouse on time, but it wasn't possible. Not with traffic and having to obey traffic laws. It was tempting not to but being pulled over by the cops would have made Carol probably even later.

"Thanks for the ride."

Carol said, hopping off the bike.

"Anytime, Lil Sis. You going have a way home?"

He asked and she nodded her head. If worse came to worse, she'd call a taxi. She waved bye to Trax, who thanked her one last time for helping his cousin and her kids. She ran her fingers through her long blond, curly hair to try and make it look a little decent. She was sure it was a mess from the ride. She adjusted her leather jacket, it had been her brother's before his death and she wore it all the time now even if it was too big for her, and headed inside.

"Sorry I'm late. I had some important business I had to take care of."

Carol said when she came in. She normally wasn't late and felt bad to keep people waiting. If Alexandra didn't believe her, she was sure Tommy would. Unlike others, she didn't totally discredit his gifts. While she didn't think he could predict lottery numbers, she did think he was sensitive to some things. She took a seat and was sure the meeting was about Alexandra becoming their new director. It would make sense. After all, her dad had been their director until he had sadly passed away. He had been a good man. He had given her a chance, helped her start a new life here. Carol would miss him.

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 Post subject: Re: Detective Agency IC
PostPosted: Sun Apr 17, 2016 6:24 pm 

Sort of back.

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Alexandra Silverman - The Director

Los Angeles, California
The abandoned warehouse
7:06 p.m.

Alexandra was still sitting behind father’s desk - no, her desk, now - when Tommy stepped into her office. As always, Alex was unsure about what her good friend would have to say. He was never one to follow conventions, so anything at all could come out of his lips once he decided to speak.

Bracing herself, Alexandra sighed in relief when Tommy confirmed what she had been feeling in her gut already. “I don’t care about the rules, Tommy. Not now, at least”, she replied to his words. “What you just told me beats condolences. Condolences won’t bring my father justice - the truth will”, she completed her response, her eyes wearing a firm expression.

“We need to…”, she started, but stopped when someone else came in. Evelyn. Alexandra remembered her. She had been a promising doctor, until an error ended her career and sent her to LA. Father had met her when she was working as a coroner, if her memory didn’t fail her. “As well as possible, thanks”, she replied, sincerely. If she were to be completely honest, she was feeling much better now that Tommy had told her she was in the right track.

Before she could say anything more, another one of the Agency members came in. Mr. Walder. He had been a lawyer, and now worked for the Agency, and was a very useful member at that - even if other people could think he was too old to be of any help. Father trusted him, and so would Alex. As the man only nodded to her, she did the same. Right now, her mind was working too fast to waste precious seconds with small talk.

Seeing James and hearing his offer of coffee warmed Alexandra’s heart for a moment. Father had liked that kid as he would like the son he never had. And she felt like she was, now, somewhat responsible for the boy. “Yes, please. Black, if you will”, she replied, choosing her coffee just like her father used to like his.

As though he had been attracted by the mention of coffee, Mr. Baldwin - he had a position in the PD, if Alexandra wasn’t mistaken - stepped in. It was almost ironic. She nodded to the man, and smiled faintly at his comment about the hat suiting her. “Thank you, sir”, she replied, feeling just a little overwhelmed with all those people, but trying her best not to show it.

As Carol stepped in and apologized, Alexandra nodded. “No problem”, she replied, her voice making it clear she was really not upset at all. One thing one learned being Silverman’s daughter was that people could not be on time to every appointment. People like those around her always had things going on, so as long as they did show up, everything would be all right.

After a deep breath, Alexandra stood up and took off the hat, placing it on the corner of the table in front of her. “Thank you all for being here”, she started, trying to sound as calm as possible. “I know this is a…”, Alexandra stopped herself and took another deep breath. “...a difficult moment, for all of us. I… I know I am young, and… don’t have experience in the business. But my father wanted me to take care of the Agency, as he always did, and I will. I will need your help, but this is a two way street. I know that my father has helped some of you out with his money and contacts. I am willing to do the same in any possible measure. So, our home is still open at all times of day and night to those who need it. And nothing will change. We will still take on cases and work as usual. As for who took my father out of the picture… this is my case, and only those who want to need to get involved with it”.

With a deep sigh, Alexandra sat back down. “Now… does anyone have anything to say or ask?”, she inquired, waiting patiently for someone to say anything at all.


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 Post subject: Re: Detective Agency IC
PostPosted: Tue Apr 19, 2016 12:29 am 

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Thomas Wong Lee - The Psychic


Los Angeles, California
The Abandoned Warehouse
7:10 p.m.

Alexandra was going to have to step into the old man's shoes, and that wasn't going to be easy one bit. Tommy didn't exactly see eye to eye with his parents at all. They were Chinese through and through. He wouldn't have been able to handle all that tradition, and instead stuck with his good old American know-how. However, it looked like Alexandra wasn't going to have much of a say in the matter, though.

Some people became great, and others eventually had greatness thrust upon them. It didn't look like there was much in between these two situations. From what he had understood, however, it actually looked like this was going to be a rare example where someone who was capable of rising to the occasion was actually going to need to rise to the actual occasion in question.

Perhaps their family relationship was better than his actual relationship was in turn. Regardless his thinking wasn't going to do anything about any of this. Actions were going to speak a little louder than words. Still, certain words could be pretty irksome, and that comment about the stars wasn't exactly helping anyone.

"Well the stars don't say anything, since they're balls of gas with no mouths, toots. My intuition, though, says that it wasn't just the nicotine that killed him."

Unlike a few certain people, he put full faith into his psychic powers. He probably would have been able to found more believers had, well, he not been so smart with all of his comments. Those comments probably did a lot to hurt his credibility for sure, but Tommy didn't really intend to correct his personality any time soon. This was a time for an investigation. It wasn't a time for personal growth.

At least Bert seemed to have a little more respect for him. It might not have been much, but even he had to admit that the other could at times be a sharp dresser. Best of all, he showed more respect than Evelyn ever had. "Aren't we all supposed to be workin' together or somethin' to get the job done?" He thought that in theory at least they were supposed to be something of a team.

Now, to make things worse though, that drink that he found so disgusting was brought into the room. Coffee was something that he would so foul smelling and tasting, though he perhaps didn't have the same kind of moral reservations about it that he must have had about smoking. This was a different addiction, though admittedly it still wasn't necessarily one that he had particularly liked really.

"Personally, I have no idea how you all can drink that mud." Tommy once more scoffed, figuring that they really needed to be working on the case more than anything else. Sighing to himself, he paid close attention to her offer. She had asked if there was anyone who wanted to say anything. Naturally he had wanted to, and in fact some people might have said that it wouldn't have been possible so far to shut him up.

Regardless, he looked toward her again and swallowed. Letting out a deep sigh, he thought carefully about what it was that he might have wanted to say before he said it. Sometime in these sorts of situations it was best to give plenty of thought to what you wanted to say. The wrong thing could really make you look like a genuine idiot for sure.

"Whatever you might think, well, I'd stay on this project even if it kills me, I don't care if it's just your project, I really want to stick on it." Eventually he frowned and shook his head, unsure of how she was going to take that. This was a case he felt was worth investigating. While he certainly did want to bring up the idea that he could try and listen for her deceased father's voice, he didn't know if that would be right to say at this point. Honestly he didn't even know whether or not she believed in his powers, so he didn't know how she would have taken to a mention of them.

Still, he did figure that it might have been useful to bring it up at some later time. Sighing a bit, he tried to at least make a gesture. It was a sign that he had wanted to say something else to Alexandra over time later on, but that it wasn't important enough now to actually bring it up. Well, it was pretty important to him, but he figured that there wouldn't have been much reason to bring it up. She wouldn't have really been all that open to it in the end more than likely anyway.


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 Post subject: Re: Detective Agency IC
PostPosted: Tue Apr 19, 2016 7:45 pm 
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Evelyn Meyer - The Disgraced Doctor


Evelyn had been teasing Tommy, but at his last comment her demeanor grew more serious, nodding slightly. She, too, had a feeling that all was not natural with the old man's death. Evelyn was not normally one for intuition - she was more of a facts and evidence right in front of her kind of gal - but in this case something just nagged at her. Something wasn't right, and she wanted to get to the bottom of it.

She was still musing over this new sensation when Bert came in, chiding as usual. Evelyn grinned, and replied in kind, "Ah, take a damper old man. You're just jealous you can't have a drink without bringing on the gout." It was hard not to respect Bert, with his experience and intellect. She couldn't be offended by his brash honesty, because it was just like her own. In fact, she found it quite refreshing.

Before she could antagonize him further, James came in, chipper and eager as ever. "Yes please, apparently I need to disguise my dinner-breath," she replied to his offer of coffee, casting a saucy look up at Bert. "A drop of milk in mine." Her eyes followed James as he went to fill the coffee orders, wondering for probably the twentieth time what secrets he was hiding beneath his perky exterior. She knew better than most how to spot that suppressed flicker of anxiety that crossed his face on the rare occasion he let his guard down. Something told her it was more than just that case of his sister's kidnapping. That had been trying, to be sure, and there was no doubt the girl had not yet fully recovered. It would be miraculous if she had! But that wasn't all that lurked behind James' innocent eyes, of that Evelyn was certain.

Claude and Carol filtered in soon after, and Evelyn nodded and smiled to both. They were both smart, hard-working people, with inner strength that Evelyn admired. It was a good group, all in all, she thought, as they gathered around Alexandra's desk. Well, she still doubted Tommy's contributions, but other than that they all had their own talents, and they were mostly easy to get along with. At least, they were when she wasn't poking at them.

As Alexandra spoke Evelyn felt a flutter of sympathy for the girl. At least she wasn't trying to pretend she knew what she was doing yet - that would help them all move forward easier. There was nothing worse than a young hot-head coming in thinking they had all the answers and screwing everything up. And Evelyn should know - she had been that young hot-head, and she'd managed to screw up beyond imagination. Her foot twitched at the thought, and she tried to drag her attention back to Alexandra's words. She was talking about her father's case, and Tommy was promising to help. Whatever "help" that may be, she thought to herself, but outwardly only nodded in agreement.

"You can count on me, too," she said. "Your father helped us all out in different ways, sometimes in ways he didn't even know about. I'm in it with you til the end." She swallowed a lump that had suddenly made its way into her throat, and settled back again in her chair. Feeling that this was getting a little too serious for her, she added with a twisted smile, "Anyway, if it's poison you'll need my expertise."


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 Post subject: Re: Detective Agency IC
PostPosted: Thu Apr 21, 2016 7:13 am 

OK, this looks bad.

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Bert Walder – The Retired Lawyer


Bert hid the grin that broke onto his face at Evelyn’s response, by turning to the young kid who entered the room.

Shortly after Bert had first met James at the Agency, he had argued with Mr Silverman. Bert still remembered his exact words: Jesus Christ, Silverman! The kid’s barely out of diapers! How could he possibly help with a case? He had fought to get James sent back to school, or wherever he came from. Mr Silverman had sat at his desk and brought the argument to a close with a single sentence. He simply pointed out that some people at the Agency felt Bert was too old to work a case and that maybe he should send Bert home too.

Bert had kept his mouth shut on the subject since.

“Just water for me, kid,” Bert said to James. “Doctor’s orders.”

He paused. Maybe he was an old man. “Actually, to hell with it. Get me a black coffee. Gouts not going anywhere any time soon.”

Bert sat and watched as the final agents came into the room. First, the detective Claude Baldwin, who carried himself with an air of authority which could only be found from years on the police force. Finally, rushed and late, came Carol the reporter. Bert tried not to roll his eyes. He couldn’t stand journalists. Especially ones who poke their noses in places they shouldn’t be and mess everything up. As a lawyer he had been on the receiving end of that problem too many times. Not by Carol, of course, but he couldn't help but think that they were all the same.

As Alexandra stood up and spoke, Bert watched her. She spoke with surprising professionalism for someone who was going through so much. Just like her father, he thought to himself.

Bert frowned as she finished, and others in the room offered their services without hesitation. Slowly, he spoke too: “I have a great respect for your father and his work, Miss. Silverman. It’s a great loss to the city and even this fine country that he is no longer with us. But are you sure that he was murdered? I mean intuition and feelings aren’t worth ****, pardon my French, in a Court of Law. I’ve got the police report right here.” Bert tapped his briefcase and glanced towards Baldwin. “They say it was natural causes. Do you have any evidence?”

Bert paused, then quickly added: “Obviously, I’m willing to help in any way I can.”

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 Post subject: Re: Detective Agency IC
PostPosted: Fri May 06, 2016 7:20 pm 

the stars look very different today ★

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James nodded smartly at Claude's request for coffee. The man dressed well, stood straight, and spoke in an articulate manner. Whenever Claude entered a room or spoke, James found himself subconsciously straightening his back, or speaking more carefully. It was the atmosphere of the older presence, or maybe even that James felt the need to impress him. James had never treated his teachers with as much respect as he gave towards all of his co-workers at the agency; even Carol, who had a more laid back personality, and . The bits and pieces of her past that James had gather from others or Carol herself painted the picture of biker gangs, fights, and accidents. Even with his inquisitive nature, he tried not to pry into the lives of people at the agency. They all had their skeletons.

"It does look right aces," James added to Claude's statement, looking over at Alexandra with - sympathy? - empathy? James wasn't sure how he felt. He felt almost detached from his boss's death, like his mind was just denying him the ability to be sad, angry, anything. As if everything was normal. He had been at the agency around a year, enough to get to know everyone, but he still felt a bit on the outside. Just a kid, he was to some of them. He had been asking to go to crime scenes and observe bodies, but so far the answer had been no. James had never seen a 'regular' dead person, compared to a murder victim. He was sure he could handle it!

Alexandra requested her coffee black. James knew what they all preferred, but he still asked, in the case that one of them might change their regular. He himself didn't drink coffee regularly. There wasn't a particular reason why. It just wasn't a ritual he held. Tommy, on the other hand, seemed much more strongly opposed to the stuff. Sometimes James brought him water or other drinks if he requested. James had considered bringing a random drink to Tommy, covered by paper, to see if he could use his abilities to determine what it was, but James didn't think he could ever pull off something like that.

After listening to Evelyn coffee request and Bert's amusing change of mind, James left the office space quickly and walked toward the table near the fridge and sink where they kept all of the necessary things for coffee, tea, and other drinks. Occasionally people put food like bread or baked goods in the fridge, but usually it was mostly empty save milk and cream. He wanted to be back as soon as possible, to avoid missing anything important. It was one reason he completed tasks that were separate from the group so quickly. He poured the coffee grounds and water into the machine and tapped his foot impatiently. In order to have something to do, he walked over to the sink to fill Tommy's water glass.

All orders filled, James returned to the office. His bad mood was lifted, as he had shoved his family business firmly into the back of his brain. He was good at that, but sometimes he slipped. People at the agency were clever, and he dreaded the day they learned anything about his home life. Work and home were defined by a very firm line in James' life. He passed around the coffees and other drinks. It was easy to keep them from becoming mixed up, as each person had a distinctly patterned cup. "Did I miss a rousing speech from our new boss?" he quipped, leaning against the wall and looking around the room. As he had come in, he heard Bert mention a police report, and natural causes. Something about Alexandra's father?

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 Post subject: Re: Detective Agency IC
PostPosted: Sun May 08, 2016 2:56 am 
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Claude Baldwin - The Cooperative Police Detective


The whole party had finally gathered. Claude thoughtfully looked around whilst James briefly left for the drinks and Alexandra delivered a speech. Impressive for her age and inexperience, if he did say so himself. He couldn’t help but admire her bravery for recovering such a loss to get on with the job, just as her father would have done. “Silverman, we’re dealing with our recent boss’ - your father’s - demise. It would be disgraceful for us to neglect his child as to make them deal with this case alone. It’s all we can do to repay his service.” Claude hummed with a sense of honour and duty, as though Mr. Silverman had been a brother in the army alongside him. At least to Claude, it felt that way, and could see that the same sense of Silverman leadership had been, in turn, running through Alexandra’s veins. Everyone else before him seemed to also be in approval of helping out with this case, which produced a small smile across Claude’s face. Evelyn Meyer was right - the man had a way with his words, and often times than not helped each person before them out in ways they probably never even knew about. In Claude’s case, the man had offered him the job of his dreams. The chance to be more than just one of the weaker coppers handling evidence.

These recent days had been turbulent times indeed, so it was refreshing to see some determination to solve this, in the name of Silverman. This death was so unexpected, so out of the blue, so out of character, and what did the PD have to say about it? Disappointingly little.

“Walder, the PD, as per usual with the cases they give me for our agency, have not much useful evidence to say for the matter. Educated assumptions such as overdosing on smokes and alcohol, leading to an eventual heart attack, are basically the only leads we’ve got so far. A very limited report, but that’s what we’re here for.” He glanced back at Bert with a respectful nod before looking Thomas’ way. “Lee’s got a gut feeling and I say we also look deeper for this one. Even though it could have simply been a heart attack, it just seems too… Prompt, for something like that to happen, y’know? I’m no doctor, but smoking and drinking are some of the most common recreations among men. The people I’ve known generally don’t go down that fast, and at such an age, too.” His lips formed into a hard line as he scratched the side of his face. Could it have been poison in the smokes or in a drink? “Meyer, it may well have been so. We should get the physical evidence produced for you to analyse.”

When James had returned to pass everyone their respective coffee, he thanked the boy as he came his way. It felt pleasantly warm to hold as he cupped the drink, the satisfying fragrance of dark coffee further enveloping him into the engaging discussion. He smiled at the unique pattern that decorated his cup before taking a tentative sip. Mm, nice and strong, as usual. “You did indeed. It was quite heartwarming, if I may say so,” he mused to James at his cheeky inquiry, “and I’m assuming you’ll also be here to help us out?” Putting the coffee once more to his lips, it felt as though the air had stirred with newborn potential. So many questions, but he was sure they could find the answers. After all, they were Silverman’s team, weren't they?

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 Post subject: Re: Detective Agency IC
PostPosted: Mon May 09, 2016 4:05 pm 

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Carol Winston - The Investigative Reporter


Carol smiled at Alexandra, glad the other woman didn't have a problem with her being late. Carol didn't like to be late but sometimes you couldn't avoid. Especially if it meant she helped prevent some kids from having the same life she and her brother had lived. She hoped Trax got his cousin and her kids far away from Los Angeles and that poor excuse of a man. She saw that the Rookie was hard at work getting everyone's drink orders. She waved that she didn't need anything. Instead, she gave Alexandra, their new director, her full attention.

Old man Silverman had always been good to her. When Carol decided that Oakland needed to become a part of her past, he had helped her get on her feet. Establish herself here and make good use of her skills.She had been a single woman struggling to make it and he had helped her out. She wouldn't be where she was without that man. Carol wouldn't be able to help people like Trax's cousin if Silverman hadn't helped her first. She had been upset when she found out he died. More upset then she would ever be the day she found out her father was dead.

It didn't surprise Carol what the other members of the Agency were saying. This group, it was like a family. Sure some people got along better then others, but in the end, everyone had each other's back. Which was what a family did. Not that much different then the family Billy had found for him and her with the OMC.

"You dad always had my back and I got yours. Count me in."

Carol told Alexandra with a smile. Where ever it led, she wanted to find out the truth. Whether it was foul play or all the years of drinking and smoking had caught up on him too fast. After everything Silverman had done for her in the past, he definitely deserved the truth about his death to be known.

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 Post subject: Re: Detective Agency IC
PostPosted: Sun May 15, 2016 12:43 am 

Sort of back.

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Alexandra Silverman - The Director


Alexandra showed a faint smile when Tommy said he didn’t know how they could drink coffee. She shook her head and didn’t say anything. It wasn’t as though she didn’t know her friend hated even the idea of coffee. She loved it as much as her old man had, and sometimes would make a point of having it just to bother him. Not now, though. Right now, Alexandra felt that she really needed a pick-me-up.

Turning her attention back to the case in point, she nodded when Tommy said he would want to be on her father’s case. Alexandra hadn’t expected any less from him. Her old man had, after all, been a bit of a father figure to her friend, as he was always around. And Tommy was a loyal friend, that couldn’t be denied. “Thanks, Tommy, but let’s hope nobody else gets killed. I couldn’t take it”, she replied quietly. Noticing her friend had something else to say afterwards, Alexandra simply nodded. Whatever it was, might have been private, otherwise he would have told her right away.

Hearing Evelyn’s offer made Alexandra sigh in relief. She would be really useful in figuring out the actual cause of death. Heart attack my ass, she thought to herself in a very unladylike manner. “Thank you”, she muttered, nodding to the woman. “You have free reign of anything you need - evidence or resources”, she replied, trying not to think about her dead father right now.

Then Bert spoke, with the voice of reason. Of course, Alexandra didn’t really want to hear the voice of reason right now. But she had to, naturally. It took a moment for her to start speaking, calmly. “We are not taking this case to a court of law, Mr. Walder”, she pointed out. “But as far as evidence goes, I would like to say that we don’t have any solid evidence yet”, she completed. “Other than, of course, the fact that my father did not have a heart condition and had recently gotten a clean bill of health”, the young woman added, her face serious. “Even if I had nothing but my intuition, though, I would pursue this case, sir”, she finished, knowing that it may sound foolish, but it was her father they were speaking about, after all. She was allowed to be a little bit unreasonable about that, right?

Focusing on James next - her mind was having to take in way too much right now -, Alexandra smiled at the kid. Sure, she knew he was young, but she knew her father had trusted him. In his requests for her, left in a sort of unofficial will, Silverman had asked her to keep an eye on James, and she had every intention to. “No rousing speeches for today, just some basic statements”, she replied, trying not to feel overwhelmed with the idea of being the ‘boss’ now. Sure, it had been important for her to say what she had, but it shouldn’t matter much to James, at least Alexandra supposed.

The idea of her father being poisoned, brought up once again, was a little too much for Alexandra to handle. She took a deep breath and stood up again, feeling restless.

Carol’s words about having her back helped ease her anxiety, but not by much. All Alexandra could offer the other woman was a nod and a grateful look, as she was getting pretty close to losing control of herself.

“I… I apologize, I just need a minute”, the young woman said, or better yet, blurted out, before stepping out of the office and into the hallway leading to it somewhat abruptly. While she knew it wasn’t exactly good form or the way she had been brought up, Alexandra was feeling overwhelmed to the point of feeling her chest tight, and she really didn’t feel like weeping in front of the entire team on her very first day would have been the most becoming thing for a Director. Once alone, though, she could drop the mask and allow her tears to fall for a few moments before going back in and pretending she was fine.


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 Post subject: Re: Detective Agency IC
PostPosted: Sun May 15, 2016 11:09 pm 

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Thomas Wong Lee - The Psychic


Los Angeles, California
The Abandoned Warehouse

While he could have taken offense to her teasing, and he usually took offense to those who questioned his abilities earnestly, Tommy was soon serious as well. He was going to have to be. This wasn't exactly a funny situation. Humorists often made fun of death in these cases. It was sometimes called gallows humor for that matter. The fleeting jokes told by those ready to die.

Nevertheless, he didn't find this entirely funny at the moment. Something wasn't at all right, just like she had thought.

Things were soon getting worse considering the issue of coffee was brought up though. No matter how American he might have been, he still did prefer plain water and had no idea how people drank that mud. It was toxic and dangerous even. He understood that there was even a movement to ban it in a couple of states.

Still, even if Evelyn kind of doubted his help, he was going to do everything that he could have to be of assistance. He didn't really see any other option after all. He knew that he was going to have to read what spirits he was sensitive to if he wanted to find anything out.

Granted his powers weren't at all like what he had depicted them as being like on his radio show. That was a theatrical performance as much as it was a real reading. He might have even been undermining his own believability by the fact that he put on airs like that. Still, he was sensitive and he intended to illustrate that shortly.

Just like Evelyn thought, though, Alexandra was doing them all a service from his point of view by not acting like she knew everything when she hadn't. Eventually, though, his thoughts were broken by the mention of poison. That was an excellent way to get this conversation back to the task at hand posthaste.

"Well, are we certain of the cause of death at all? Is it something cardiovascular at least?" He figured that would have helped in a number of ways, on top of the fact that it would probably make the investigation easier on him as well. If he knew something about what was going on, then he could have possibly been more informed on where to go and look so to speak.

"We don't have any water to offer, now do we toots?" Tommy smirked a bit and continued to think to himself. The moment that he heard anything in the spiritual realm he would have announced it to everyone else. Then again, he wasn't at all sure that other people would have at all liked to hear him make that announcement one bit.

Ironically, James soon got him some water, which he was more than pleased by. He was a bit gruff at times and probably pretty haughty, but at least he was polite when something was given to him.

"...James, were you thinking about bringing me something a little stronger than water?" It could have been a joke, but maybe just maybe Tommy had actually read the other's mind. "Even if I don't want any coffee I figure we could all go for a good stiff drink at this point." Coincidence? More than likely, but it just seemed uncanny. It really looked like he had figured out that James was casually thinking of some sort of test. Then again, he might not have known and it could have been an unusual joke. This kind of thing was the sort that made people continue to guess when they were dealing with Tommy really.

That was when he finally received a vote of confidence from Alexandra, which he naturally considered to be very high praise indeed. Looking up slowly, he smiled and tipped the hat in his hand that he hadn't been wearing since he entered. "You know, actually hearing that from you makes it all the more real if that makes any sense at all."


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 Post subject: Re: Detective Agency IC
PostPosted: Mon May 23, 2016 9:53 pm 
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Evelyn Meyer - The Disgraced Doctor


Evelyn sipped her coffee as she listened to the others. The burning bitterness helped clear some of the fog that seemed to have filled her mind ever since she heard the news. There was work to be done now, evidence to inspect, with any luck a trail to follow - that was something tangible, something that she could actual do anything about. It was the sitting around and waiting that had galled her beyond belief. Without action she was lost.

Setting her coffee down, she nodded at Claude and Alexandra's suggestions. Smoking didn't cause sudden death like that, not that she had ever seen. And Mr. Silverman hadn't drank nearly enough for it to kill him like that. The facts just didn't add up, and even if it weren't her boss in question Evelyn would still insist on a closer inspection. "I'll look at the evidence as soon as you can get me access. But if the investigators weren't thorough on the scene... well, there's no telling what might be missing. I can't promise it'll help." She opened her mouth to add something, but a glance at the pain in Alexandra's tense face made her shut it again. It would be hard, she realized, dealing with this case when the victim's daughter was the one leading the team. For Evelyn, it was second nature to compartmentalize. Even though she had known and cared about Mr. Silverman, he was still just another case to her. A case she was determined they would solve.

But for Alexandra it was different. Naturally so - a father is a very different animal from a friend and a colleague. For once in her life, Evelyn vowed to mind her sharp tongue. A careless word here could really hurt Alexandra, and that was the last thing she wanted to do.

When Alexandra burst from the room, Evelyn turned back to Bert. "You said you had the police report, Walder?" she asked, shooting a glance at his briefcase. "Did they do an autopsy?" She looked questioningly at both Bert and Claude. It was doubtful they had, if the investigators on the scene had already decided his death was due to natural causes, but it didn't hurt to ask. If an autopsy had been done by anyone remotely competent (not that there were many of those left in the police department these days!), then she was far more likely to find clues there than in the physical evidence. Either way, she would work with what they had, and dig until she found a thread worth following. Without any other information, it was their only lead.


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 Post subject: Re: Detective Agency IC
View Likes PostPosted: Fri May 27, 2016 9:51 am 

OK, this looks bad.

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Bert Walder - The Retired Lawyer


Los Angeles, California
The Abandoned Warehouse

“Thanks, kid,” Bert mumbled as a coffee was handed to him. He placed it on the table beside him.

Emotions. They always got in the way, messed things up, turned everything on its head. He tried to not watch as Alexandra stepped out from the room, turning his attention instead to the case beside him, fumbling with the latches to get it open, his cup of coffee abandoned on a nearby table. This case was going to be a powder keg of emotions and people were going to find it hard to keep their heads straight. Bert knew it, but something made him hold his tongue. For the moment, anyway.

“There...er... was an autopsy done,” Bert said as he produced a brown paper folder from his case and snapped the latches shut again. “Probably because of Silverman’s connections, but I think it was a rush job, more of a formality. I was thinking maybe we should get someone to look at…”

He paused before he said ‘the body’. It seemed too flat, too distant. Almost an insult to the man he knew. Bert scratched his nose to cover up the pause.

“… Mr. Silverman again. I know a guy down south who owes me a favor…” His eyes flicked up to Evelyn. “… or you could look at him. Assuming you can stop swaying and stand still for long enough.”

Bert flicked through the folder to make sure it was all there before offering it to Evelyn. “To be honest,” he continued, “I think the only way this report is going to be useful is if you use it to wipe your ass.”

He turned to Claude. “I mean, Jesus Christ, Baldwin. Did the PD deliberately put their greenest officers on the case, or are you all that incompetent?” The words slipped out of his mouth before he had a chance to think about them.

Emotions. They mess everything up.

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 Post subject: Re: Detective Agency IC
PostPosted: Sun Jun 19, 2016 9:31 pm 

the stars look very different today ★

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"A right shame," James tutted sadly, crossing his arms and shifting his weight from the balls of his feet to his toes and back again, "I could've used one today." He glanced over to Alexandra and gave her a slight smile. "Statements are the most rousing of them all, are there not? Nothing more attention-grabbing than pure, unadulterated fact." James was keen, and liked to play with words. Maybe he liked to play a bit too much, as his mouth often moved faster than his mind, or faster than other people would like.

"Of course I'll be here, sir," James said to Claude in a dutiful, puppy-like sort of way, accompanied by a mock salute, "where else would I be?" Not at home, James thought, not for a while. He hoped that he would get on his bike that night, take a jolly ride through town, and arrive at home, with everything in perfect order. Mom and dad would be happy and in love, Bev would smile more, Addie wouldn't have nightmares. The fridge would be full, and that leak in the roof would be gone forever. It was a stupid hope, that kind that rested on your heart even if you knew it couldn't ever be true.

James was startled suddenly by Tommy's comment, heart skipping a beat in surprise. Had the man really read his mind? He had just been thinking of the drink test like a game. It was another coincidence, like all the other coincidences before when Tommy seemed to have commented on things James was thinking about. Tommy was just good at reading people like that. And yet, against his better conscience, Jame couldn't help but believe. Maybe a little more than most, because, after all, Tommy had been the key in finding Addie, and all those girls. That couldn't have been just some massive coincidence.

Of all the police death reports James had looked at and filed, since as the rookie at the agency he handled most of the boring paperwork, he had never seen one made for someone he knew. James understood why the report hadn't come to his hands yet. Alexandra wanted to keep it close. He could understand that. He watched as Alexandra, overwhelmed, left the room. She was such a strong, proud person that James assumed she had excused herself to cry, away from the eyes of everyone.

Then Bert pulled out the autopsy. James could feel that air grow a little thicker as he retrieved a brown folder from his briefcase. It looked just like any report, but this one was different.

The atmosphere changed just as quickly as it had descended, the tension broken by Bert's crass joke. James hid a snort of laughter as a cough, then quickly perked up. "I want to go," he said, "to see... Mr. Silverman, I mean." Just like Bert, he stiffly avoided the impersonal term of 'body'. "I can handle it," I need to be able to handle it, "and I can learn from Evelyn. I can't just be the coffee-boy forever." It seemed everyone was letting their inner thoughts out tonight. James bit his tongue out of slight regret. He wasn't one to complain about his lack of real work, but hell, he'd been here for long enough to be given even the chance to learn.

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 Post subject: Re: Detective Agency IC
PostPosted: Mon Jun 27, 2016 7:33 am 
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Claude Baldwin - The Cooperative Police Detective

He looked down at James’ eager demeanour and gave him a light, appreciative pat on the shoulder. The way the boy saluted, Claude almost saw his brother’s kind face the moment he looked his way, blinking a few times to reveal the young assistant rookie underneath his daydream. There was something about this kid that Claude admired, but couldn’t quite put a finger on it. Perhaps it were his confidence for his age, much like Alexandra - it reminded Claude of himself as a kid, and that zest for life one exuded when they craved a name for themselves. It was a funny thing, getting older, finding your rhythm, reinforcing your already established name - that sense of urgency just wasn’t the same motivator anymore.

Discussions of the chances of Mr Silverman being poisoned took over the room’s route of conversation as Alexandra stepped out of the office. Poor lady, he thought, it’s already hard for me talking of your father in this way. Turning his head to follow her out, he felt subconsciously protective of her wellbeing. Not just because he was the crew’s main muscles and bodyguard. This family gave him opportunities to live the job of his dreams… Claude felt indebted to her father to look after her, ensure that this Silverman won’t fall into any unnecessary traps again.

Upon Tommy’s question of whether or not they knew if the cause of death was something cardiovascular, Claude gave him a sort of defeated look as he nodded towards the terribly poor autopsy report revealed to the group by Bert. The old lawyer’s comment made Claude’s brows flinch upward, an amused smile quirking its way across his face in response to both the ass-wiping joke and the seemingly passive aggressive insult. “Unfortunately, you speak the truth. The PD is not kind to this company. Could be why the department never understood my intentions of working here… Their work for us has become more of an apathetic legality the more we work together.” Claude never understood why the police acted the way they did towards Silverman’s business and so was not too offended by Bert’s remark (although the roundabout way of calling Claude incompetent did leave a faint crinkling of the nose and a clenched grip onto his mug for a moment). Was the PD afraid of competition? Jealousy? Whatever the case, Claude worked here for a reason. Every story has an ending, and with the company of these intelligent peers, he enjoyed great pleasure proving the police wrong.

When James piped up again, asking to be more involved, Claude hummed in positive reinforcement. “Mm, well, we can’t say you’re not a keen learner. I like your spirit. What do you lot think?” As soon as Alexandra stepped back into the scene, the police detective reckoned it was about time for some actions to be made. It was time to compensate for what their government couldn’t do. A tight, reclusive society such as theirs needed people like them to speak up and give a voice to the voiceless.

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