[center][h1]August Dupin[/h1][/center]
[center]Physical State: Relaxed
Mental State: Attentive and Alert[/center]

As the pair made their way into the small locally owned cafe August immediately found himself breathing deeper in an attempt to savor the delightful aroma of finely roasted coffee beans that filled the air in such a way that only coffee houses could. Having always been a fan of a strong cup up black liquid tar himself it was a smell that brought August a slight moment of relief, a moment he didn't even know he desperately needed up until this very point. He honestly wasn't sure if his relief stemmed more from the caffeinated smell wafting in the air or just the mere fact that the damned Asylum was no longer within eyesight.

Through his constant habit of investigating any and everything that stood out to him August had learned that the Asylum was the type of old structure that was just as well known as it was equally feared among the locals. It was the type of place that seemed to exist in every town and city in one way or another, the type of place kids dared each other to go while being to scared themselves to ever set foot near and likewise would more often than not have one or two macabre rumors or urban legends tied to the building itself. Needless to say the Arkham Asylum had all this in spades along with the benefit of a few all to real nightmarish crime scenes that had taken place within and around its stone structure. 

The worst thing by far about Arkham Asylum though was the very fact that August wanted absolutely nothing to do with the place but was all to aware that his type of luck combined with his damned inquisitive nature tended to land him in the exact places he didn't want to be. It was for this very reason he made a mental note to check the place out again more in depth in the future. But for now he simply needed to give his full attention to the man in front of him.

In a further effort to ingratiate himself to Jeremy, whom still believed him to be a reporter, August made sure to quickly speak first when it came to ordering drinks and with a mere [i]“Ill take a black coffee and whatever my friend here wants as well. And keep the tip.”[/i] he made his intentions clear that he planned to buy Jeremy's drink-the waitress didn't object nor give Jeremy time to argue as August handed her a folded bill that was worth a good bit more than two coffees. It was the type of purchase he normally would have filed under “expenses” when billing a client.

Two fresh cups of coffee in hand later and the duo found themselves seated at one of the high standing small circular tables that made up the quaint yet well taken care of cafe. Seemingly defying the laws of physics August had somehow found a way to make his massive frame fit the stylish stool that was clearly built with a much thinner crowd in mind. Gulping his coffee down August went about playing the part of a reporter and pulled out a little black notebook and pencil from inside his gigantic raincoat-although usually preferring to take mental notes he was well aware that for some odd reason people seemed comforted or genuinely less suspicious whenever he actively seemed to be writing the answers to the questions he asked. 

[u]"So what do you want to ask then? I'm not sure I am of much help, August." [/u]

The question had not only been a simple one but was almost to be expected given the impromptu interview August was supposedly giving-and it was for that very reason August found it somewhat odd that the man seemed a bit fidgety. It was like he was waiting for [u]someone[/u] or [i]something[/i] to burst in the door at any moment and do lord knows what. Without thinking on it much August simply wrote off the clearly paranoid body language as someone still suffering effects from the war; afterall if the man had honestly been a soldier August wouldn't blame him for his behavior one bit-in fact August had seen many a man in much much worse shape. 

Taking another long gulp of coffee August tried putting his best smile on before answering. [i]“Well you never know Jeremy. The littlest thing can sometimes lead to the biggest discoveries afterall. Was Mr. Killigan acting odd in any memorable way before the events of that night? Perhaps mentioning any specific places or people, things that were troubling him? Really anything that would still be stuck in your mind as odd or peculiar after everything that took place? Any unanswered questions?”[/i] Then without thinking the words slipped from his mouth.

[i]“Do you by chance know if he had any contact with a [color=red]Faye Desdemona[/color]?”[/i]