- Posting Speed
- Multiple posts per day
- Online Availability
- 8:00 AM - 4:00 PM
- Writing Levels
- Prestige
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Primarily Prefer Female
- Genres
- Political intrigue, fantasy, futuristic, sci fi lite, superheroes, historical fiction, alternate universes. Smittings of romance, but only as side plot.
no-lightbox
Sliding out of the car, Charlie smirked faintly as he spared a glance around before returning his gaze to the private detective. He'd expected little more than the response he had been given, and in part he was glad for the predictability, "You're kind of an ass, you know that, right?" Whether it was part of a ploy to maintain a level of icy professionalism, or just the man's general disposition, Charlie didn't mind, so long as the job got done.
And really, there was something inherently likeable about a man who, despite being a bit of a dick, still knew right from wrong and wanted to see a bad situation set on it's head again. Charlie couldn't complain about the honesty, either. He'd spent his life surrounded by politicians - it was refreshing to spend a few minutes with someone who didn't feel the need to suck up like a half-starved remora. Or worse yet, a person who expected Charlie to...
Closing the car door behind himself, Charlie followed after Les towards the guard house. The young brunette woman behind the desk was petite, but carried herself with an air of confidence that suggested behind her small frame she packed enough punch to handle herself. Charlie was brief, handing her the claim number for the vehicle and as she buzzed them through the gate. As the gate slid open, he looked over to Les again, curiously, before stepping through, "Police said the damage to the towncar was pretty extensive, but we had it brought here to throw of the press scent. What exactly are we looking for?"