Thread: The Debt Collector (Greysmith and FemShep)

Who the fuck lives this far out of town anyway? The voice was a deep, resounding baritone, belonging to a man who disliked nothing as much as he disliked being put out of his way. It was making his irritable, and his state mind during meetings as he so liked to call them, could mean the difference between a broken limb, and a missing one. This was the reason he was hired, because he was able to intimidate. The trait was much more powerful than people gave it credit for, sometimes he didn't have to even break anything, just the threat was enough to have the debtors suddenly find whatever it was of value they had left. There was little people valued more than their own person, though for some it was the limbs of another that brought even greater agony. He was a young man, surprisingly so for the position he held. He spoke to the two people in the front seat of a long, sleek black car, dressed in simple black suits, wearing sunglasses and having guns tucked away beneath their jackets. He looked a little different however. He was in a black suit as well, but much more finely tailored, polished shoes and an expensive looking clip on his tie. Doing what he did made him an awful lot of money and if there was one thing a bank liked more than having all their ducks in a row, it was having a man like him to keep those ducks on the straight and narrow. He clasped a cigarette between his thumb and index finger, letting the smoke trail out in tendrils within the interior of the vehicle, looking boredly out the window. His reflection looked back at him in the glass, a pair of green hazel eyes, deep brown hair combed neatly back from his features, short and kempt, stubble on his face in a similar hue. His features were generally considered attractive, high cheekbones and a defined jawline, which was set in an uninviting scowl as he smoked. The drove along in the wooded area, the road was rough, bouncing him on his seat and making him that much more displeased with having to come all the way out there to put some muscle on an old man who had fallen behind. He didnt enjoy watching old men cry. well, not always. It depended on how pathetic they were about their begging. It wasnt long before they came to a large wrought iron gate, it opened without needing to be touched fancy, he thought bitterly. Perhaps thats where some of the missing money had gone. The vehicle stalled in front of a massive door. He had to admit, it was quite the place, though definitely lacked care, showing signs of deterioration. Hey Sieg, you want I should get their attention? One of his companions, referred to simply as Horse, motioned to the gun at his side. Sig rose his hand, shaking his head before running the hand through his hair, contemplating for a moment before walking up to the front door, giving it a gentle knock. He pulled a piece of paper from his inside jacket, reading over what the Bank wanted him to collect, tucking his hands into his pockets as he chewed on the inside of his cheek. Siegfried, though bearing a German name looked distinctly caucasian, though his build was larger than average. He supposed it came with that same intimidation trait, able to look down at most people over the bridge of his aquiline nose, and having the brawn to act upon his threats. OPEN UP! Siegs other comrade barked, bearing little tact as he kicked the door. Sig tutted, giving his friend a look. Really Rube? So uncouth, we are here on business. do try not to scare his staff. Siegs voice was smooth like honey, waiting patiently for the door to open.