[hider=The Veteran]
[center][img]https://f4.bcbits.com/img/a1517774166_10.jpg[/img][/center]

[color=#f7e7ce][u][b]Name:[/b][/u][/color] Joseph Kimbell
[color=#f7e7ce][u][b]Age:[/b][/u][/color] 35
[color=#f7e7ce][u][b]Sex:[/b][/u][/color] Male
[color=#f7e7ce][u][b]Sexuality:[/b][/u][/color] Homosexual
[color=#f7e7ce][u][b]Relationship Status:[/b][/u][/color] Single

[color=FFE8ED][center][h3]The Body[/h3][/center][/color]

[color=#f7e7ce][u][b]Height:[/b][/u][/color] 6’2”
[color=#f7e7ce][u][b]Weight:[/b][/u][/color] 190lbs
[color=#f7e7ce][u][b]Hair:[/b][/u][/color] Brown
[color=#f7e7ce][u][b]Eyes:[/b][/u][/color] Green
[color=#f7e7ce][u][b]Skin Tone:[/b][/u][/color]Caucasian
[color=#f7e7ce][u][b]Appearance:[/b][/u][/color] A weathered face from the war has made Joseph old before his time. His attire shows an effort being made to maintain his appearance, but his hair isn't so neatly parted as it should be and his shirt is crinkled. He has a forlorn, thoughtful air about him which makes his sleepy smiles all the more precious when they do come around. He wears suits that should have been replaced a year or so ago. There's a faint band on his ring finger. His hands are calloused and his nails are short. He has some scars on his torso.


[color=FFE8ED][center][h3]The Soul[/h3][/center][/color]

[color=#f7e7ce][u][b]Likes:[/b][/u][/color]
 Beer
 Books
 Slow Jazz
 Joyrides
 Autumn
 Peace and quiet
[color=#f7e7ce][u][b]Dislikes:[/b][/u][/color]
 Parties
 Foreigners
 New Technology
 Sugary Food
 Birds
 Heatwaves
[color=#f7e7ce][u][b]Skills:[/b][/u][/color]
[list]
[*] Ex-sharpshooter
[*] Disciplined 
[*] Street Smarts
[*] Irish-American Connections
[*] Well-read
[/list]
[color=#f7e7ce][u][b]Brief History: [/b][/u][/color]
[list]
[*] Born 1886 to Catholic parents.
[*] Grew up in New York, went to school and worked part time in the library.
[*] Discovered his sexuality at a young age.
[*] Younger brother found out, kept it secret.
[*] Younger brother dated a black woman, ostracized from the family and moved to Louisiana.
[*] Married childhood friend Maud McKenzie.
[*] Bought a house together, no kids yet.
[*] Great War began - enlisted and received training as a rifleman.
[*] Met his lover, Samuel Limper, in the war.
[*] After the armistice, was given a blue discharge.
[*] Wife found out and left him.
[*] Lover lived too far away to maintain relationships.
[*] Younger brother died, left a bedbound sister in law and a niece in prison for a misdemeanor.
[*] Moved to Louisiana, bailed out his niece and payed for hospital bills.
[*] Sister in law dies of Spanish flu. Compiles money from inheritance, military pay, and sold the autoshop to move back to New York in shitty apartment.
[*] Constantly denied work due to blue discharge.
[*] Kept tabs on ex-wife and her new husband.
[*] Took on occasional smuggling operations with friends of the family to pay the bills.
[*] Adapted to his niece's sudden onset of seizures.
[*] Became desperate - joined the agency on a whim.
[/list]

[color=FFE8ED][center][h3]The Story[/h3][/center][/color]

The click and thump of the door woke Joseph out of his reveries with a start. A tittering giggle and the unsteady gait on those creaking floorboards alerted him to the arrival of his niece who was presently leaning on the doorway, hair barely kept under the gel, a tear on the hem of her tassel dress. “So I've been thinking,” she started boldly. 

Joseph shifted his tired gaze at Rosa, remaining slouched on his small wooden stool, already annoyed purely for the sake of being annoyed. The young girl was unfortunately lined up in his sights. “What?” he asked plainly, internally begging for her to cut to the point of whatever question she had lined up. Rosa smirked and slapped down the advertisement.

Slowly craning his head down to read the contents of the paper, Joseph didn’t give off much of a reaction. The possibility of his young niece even suggesting something like this was completely unexpected, but not surprising given her temperament. He sat there in a long pregnant pause before looking back up at the girl. “What are we supposed to do with this?” he asked her.

“You used to be a sharpshooter, right?” Rosa sank into the seat next to him and went to work taking off her heels. “So it was your job to spot sketchy shit before it happens. And I can't so much as grab a spoon without having a fit. [I] And [/I]we've already been privately investigating Maud,[I] AND [/I] we're running out of options here.” She tapped the sheet of paper excitedly. “We ain't gonna lose anything by applying, is all I'm saying. Why would these guys care if you're a homo? If anything that means you know how to hide shit.”

With furrowed brows Joseph redirected his attention towards the advertisement slapped before him. “Where did you get this?”

“A crazy gypsy who lives in the cereal aisle of Cohen's kiosk gave it to me,” Rosa whispered dreamily as she rested her head on the table.

Joseph closed his eyes and shifted his head to give a desperate stare out the window he had planted himself behind. “What the fuck…” he whispered to himself before letting another long pause of silence linger between the two. “Wait- we? You’re thinking of applying too?”

“Mhm,” Rosa mumbled, her voice heavy with the intoxicating cocktail of alcohol and drowsiness. “I can't barely pick up a wrench. At least this way I'll be useful…” she trailed off, her breathing settling into little snores.

“I’ll think about it.” he said but he was already only talking to himself at that point. Rosa was out cold, leaving him alone with the sound of his thoughts and the groaning of the central heating. He directed his gaze back out the window and did as he said he would, think. Rosa had a point, applying would do no harm. Besides, in their situation they had no right to be picky with work.

After helping the unconscious Rosa to her bed and spending several more hours perched back on his stool in thought regarding the offer, Joseph began convincing himself more and more about the plausibility behind applying. She had a point, after all. A cheeky one, but a valid one nonetheless.

Next he found himself restless in his bed, staring at the ceiling with thoughts of the danger the advertised work could entail, building himself little scenarios and playing out his responses to them in his head. Especially since Rosa was looking to apply as well - and he had no doubt that she'd call in regardless of what he chooses.

‘Better then turning back to crime’ he repeated, over and over as he busied himself with preparing breakfast for his niece, sliding eggs onto her plate before staring into his coffee with a hollow look.

By midday he was once again perched on his stool, this time with a phone in his lap as he began dialing the number on the advertisement, foot repeatedly bouncing on the floor tiles as his nervousness grew. Better than letting Rosa go alone. Better than smuggling. Better than waiting in this dingy apartment for an opportunity...or a miracle.

[color=FFE8ED][center][h3]The Ether[/h3][/center][/color]
[color=#f7e7ce][u][b]Color Code:[/b][/u][/color] #f7e7ce
[color=#f7e7ce][u][b]Theme Song:[/b][/u][/color] N/A
[/hider]