Thread: Crawlin' the Walls (CaptainPeriwinkle and Madam Mim)

To say that he could blend in an almost any situation was completely true. Even sitting in the semi-rundown, dimly lit, smoke filled bar in a three piece suit, no one was the wiser. Sitting back in his chair, enjoying the show, and simply just scoping out the situation. A glass of the bar's finest scotch sat on the table, ice cubes just beginning to melt, the water taking a little edge off of the amber drink. A smoldering cigarette sat between the man's fingers on his right hand, as he scribbled something unimportant in a black, leather bound notebook. The woman he happened to be tracking was on stage, and she sounded good. It was rather unfortunate that he didn't particularly care for smooth jazz, otherwise he likely would have enjoyed the show that much more. When her song was done, he stood up and clapped just like the rest of them, but he was also the first to sit down and kill his drink. The crowd loved her, it was easy to see how she could have potentially landed herself in this situation. The town of New Orleans was filled with unsavory characters, scumbags, and drunks. It was a beautiful town sure, but if you didn't play things close to your chest, it was very easy to end up as an obsession for someone you'd like to avoid. As it seemed, that's exactly what happened to Ms. Nora. When the next girl got onto the stage, he made his move. Standing up and making his way over to the counter with his empty glass. Give me another. He said, lighting up another cigarette, this one just haphazardly dangling between his pale lips as he looked on. It was simple, he didn't care about the liquor or anything going on around him. That's not why he was here. He was here to get some information, and maybe as a secondary objective, enjoy himself a little bit. Everyone had always told him that he was stuck up, and wound tight. Normally, he shrugged off those sorts of comments, but for whatever reason, he decided to take them into account tonight. Beautiful song, Ms. Nora. He started out, putting his hand on her bare shoulder. My name is Detective Robert Walker . I was assigned to your case. Do you mind if we go and get some fresh air? His voice was smooth, though a little raspy due to the years of heavy smoking and drinking. Lifting up his freshly filled glass, he tossed his head back and drained it, before his rough hands moved to her bare arm, almost in a manner to shuttle her in the right direction. There was really only one direction to go, and it was towards the front door. Either way, he would likely be considered a little unorthodox. Behind him, the song had just finished. Rita! I'm going to need to you stay behind a little late tonight! I need to talk to you! Sam cried out, just as the door closed. The next singer was on the stage in a few moments, and the muffled sounds of the loud piano, saxaphones, bassists, and the rest of the instruments could be heard fairly clearly outside. Once outside, Robert offered Nora a cigarette before flicking the ash off the end of his. Looking back to her, he smiled. It was night. The city was dark, and the dim lights from the surrounding area flickered beautifully against the water. Putting his cigarette case away, he offered her a light before he started. So, go ahead. Start from the beginning. He said, flicking his cigarette once more, and pulling his notebook out of his pocket.