[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=#7E5C65]Robert Adler[/color][/i][/b][/h1] [img]https://i.ibb.co/c8P9h0T/ezgif-com-resize.jpg[/img][hr][b] [color=#7E5C65]Location:[/color][/b] Chicago (Grimaldi Books: Back Room -> Robert's apartment) [b][color=#7E5C65]Skills:[/color][/b] N/A[hr][hr][/center] Robert looked back at Adelaide as she had heard him, giving him her piece of mind. Perhaps she was right, Robert thought. He sighed and looked down at his own two feet, walking over to the front door where Adelaide was going to let him out and lock. Yeah, he probably hadn't been any more polite or helpful himself, no matter how much he was going to deny it out in public. The kid knew his way around computers, and it was Rapture who'd connected the burglary to an infamous hacker, not Robert. What had Robert and his sorry, old arse of an long-due pencil pusher gotten done? Besides putting out some theories and reading some old files, not a whole lot. [color=#7E5C65]"Okay, sure. See you soon."[/color] Robert said back to Adelaide in a defeated, yet defiant way. Adelaide, his landlady and boss, and to some extent his partner at he same time as a client. Walking out of the book store and making his way around the building to the entrence for the apartments, Robert felt old. Old and useless, like his own car or the record player he really wished he wouldn't have to throw out. Both worked, for now. But how long would it take for someone to either break them or decide they wanted something newer and better? Robert had that feeling the whole climb of the stairs leading to his apartment, opening his apartment door and lumbering inside. [color=#7E5C65]"So long, Phil. Watch the…ah, why do I even bother?"[/color] Robert said to himself as he hurriedly went arond his small apartment, gathering the stuff he thought he'd need whilst going to Grimm. He grabbed an old travelling backpack, shoved his laptop and the external small harddrive in it, alongside some toiletries that might be useful if they were going away for long. And wrapped in some old newspapers, he also shoved in the two remaining magazines for his gun. If they were going out there, the big bad world that had only grown darker in Robert's eyes, he was going prepared. He'd never need to actually fire his gun before, only show it at the very least, but…he was just being careful. Who was Phil, you might ask? Well Robert had one album framed up on the wall, jokingly he was Robert's only friend there that saw the real Robert. It was an old, worn vinyl album with a dark background and a white face on the front. A man with two staring eyes, straight at you. But after years of telling the framed album to watch the apartment for him, Robert was staring to wonder if he was going nuts.