[hr][hider=Richard Barker - Private Detective]
[center][color=0054a6][h2]Richard Barker[/h2]
[img]https://i.ibb.co/bBbxQ7x/ezgif-1-ee4a004db0c4.jpg[/img]
[i]"Quote Your Character Would Say"[/i]
The quintessence of the Private Detective, the "'Dick" and Professional Snoop, Richard Barker looks like a man who's got knocked down quite a few times but always gotten back on his feet. Mostly. Richard stand at an average height with an average build, with combed back black hair and brown eyes. What's most striking about the private detective isn't his dress or skill as a snoop, but the big scare on his nose. Few people know really what happened, but Richard sure won't tell just anyone.

[i]Age[/i]:
33

[i]Gender[/i]:
Male

[i]Rich or Poor?:[/i]
He used to be fairly well-looking, but you can't take the New York gutter-kid out of a man spent working for the city. Try looking good and living on a non-unionised job, and see how poor you yourself become. 

[i]Power Descriptions:[/i]
Look. Richard is just an ordinary fellow, born and bred in New York, working his way up before it all came crashing down, so don't you come talking 'bout some sort of "Greater Power" that he has, like he's the damn Messiah. Okay? If you really need to nail down one power he's got, it's his nose - as sharp as a blood hound, and as fragile as Chinese porcelain. Put Richard in a room, and he'll figure out who was murdered there by what and who, and probably why. He reads rooms and people like nobodies business, and he's damn good at it. 

[i]Skills:[/i]
 Arabic, Deduction of clues, psychology, Driving, Intimidation, Alertness, Stealth, Research, Dancing, Breaking & Entering, Stamina, Streetfighting and unarmed, Pistols and Shotguns.

[i]Personality:[/i]
Richard comes across as a man with one thought in his mind most of the time; solving that last case, whatever the cost may be. He is determined to get the job done effectivly and correctly, in order to get that rent payed and food bought. And in doing so, he can appear as a man lacking emotions. He knows that most people lie to save their own skin, that many do so to both him and their closest ones, and that he probably will uncover whatever dirt they have on them. That's his job after all, figuring out who murdered that lonely man, where that cheating husband ran off to and with who, and where all those public funds got lost. People commit crimes, they lie, and he knows he probably can and will too. 

That being said, Richard does have people he trusts and loves; people he would do a whole lot to keep safe and happy. It's just that because of some of these people that he's sceptical of others. People he loved and cared for lied to him, and that's what hurts the most. The remaining few are far in-between, though some have entered his soft spot after That happened. Just don't go expecting him to like you at first glance, even for your sweet smile and swinging walk.

[i]Biography:[/i]
Richard was born the first of four children to the Barker-couple, born and raised in one of New York's shadier neighbourhoods. While things could get rough now and again, the four Barker-children had a fairly good childhood, even when their parents didn't have time for them. For Richard's father, Richard Barker senior, was a cop in the New York Police Department. Which was what Richard junior too wanted to become. So when he wasn't attending school or watching over his siblings, Richard could most often be seen following cops on duty to learn as much as he could. He even sometimes watched them from afar, witnessing how many conducted their work with ruthless efficiency and batons. But they only attacked the bad guys, right?

	Richard never got a degree, but managed in 1906 to become a cop just after turning 18 partly thanks to his father already being in the same station. But a few short years later Richard junior was the only Barker left on the force. His father was suspected of taking bribes from a certain Italian establishment and swiftly kicked off-duty for an indefinite amount of time. At first Richard outright refused to believe that his father, the hero in shining armour and blue uniform he had looked up to for so many years could do such a thing, but with age came the creeping realization that no-one was uncorruptable. Every man had his price, even Richard himself.

	His idealistic view on his duties as a cop brought him close to the neighbourhood he regularly patrolled. It was commonly known as "Little Egypt" for obvious reasons, as the main demographic of its inhabitants came from the Middle East and many spoke Arabic several generations after emigrating to America. Richard came to know those streets and its regulars more and more as the years on patrol went, and even learned an decent amount of Arabic himself. Of course he never got the accent right, but the others thought of it as characteristic of him, perhaps a bit cute? And he enjoyed it all; his work, his friends, his wife Beatrice and his soon-to-be-born child. Even if his father was a tainted mark on him, life was good.

	It wasn't until after the Raid in 1914 that it all started falling apart.

	It was meant to be routine task for the now promoted Richard and the rest of the team; they had solid information of a opium trade taking place, who would attend, and when and where it would take place. It would all be simple, put up an ambush and catch the criminals in the act, before going home just in time for dinner. It was anything but simple. They hadn't anticepated the pepretrators to put up resistance like they did, revolvers and knives all thrown into the mix of dark alleyways and too many cooks in one kitchen, so to speak. One of the Portugese guys grabbed Richard from behind, while another came at him with a razor and cutting his nose nearly clean off. Hadn't it been for the backup, Richard knew he'd probably be dead. And he also knew that this operation was doomed from the start. Someone from inside the Department warned them. It angered him, hardened him, even made him a little colder. 

	Either it was him turning colder that pushed his wife away, or it was his wife's departure that cooled the already shaken police officer, because a year later Beatrice wanted nothing more from Richard. Nothing more except his money and their daughter Elise. He could let go of the money, but Elise he couldn't part with. Not in a million years, not when he needed her the most to stay above water mentally. So when Elise disappeared without a trace another year after his and Beatrice's separation, he had no doubts as to who did it. At least he thought he did, until Beatrice out of all people came crying to him demanding to know where their little Elise was. Richard didn't know, she didn't know, and nobody else did either. 

	Richard couldn't take the pressure, and quit the force. When the police themselves stopped looking for her, he started on his own, even without many leads. Like she was torn out of this very reality and stored away in another. Richard was a broken man, left with little in that world to live for. Perhaps except for the slim hope of Elise returning home safe. Perhaps that's why he became a private detective, to earn enough money to still be alive if...when Elise comes home, or he himself found wherever those devils had taken her.

[i]Likes:[/i]
[b][color=#255DB3]Likes:[/color][/b] 
[list][*]Smoking
[*]Solving a case
[*]Slow-dancing
[*]Not having to borrow money, again
[*]Souvlaki
[*]Sleeping in a proper bed[/list]

[i]Dislikes:[/i]
[b][color=#255DB3]Dislikes:[/color][/b]
[list][*]His ex-wife
[*]His nose
[*]People commenting his nose
[*]Breakfast
[*]Liars
[*]Clues not adding up[/list]
[i]Fears:[/i]
Fears? Listen pal, after serving nearly ten years in the NYPD, you'll get used to a hell of a lot. Either you crack under the pressure, or you grow numb from it. Richard's of the latter, grown to have a lead belly. There's only two things he fears - Never finding his missing daughter, and barbers.
[i]Weaknesses:[/i]
Richard Barker, P.I. is not the most sociable person one can find in central NYC. While he might be good at cracking heads and solving cases, he hasn't been the best of people's person since that fateful day in 1914. Give him a room, time and openings to talk, and you'll find him uncomfortable in social situations. Also don't comment his nose, or you'll find your own bloodied. 
[i]Other:[/i]
Feels as if he's died multible times already, travelled the world and been places he's never visited. Safe to say, he's not to worried to find himself in an interdimensional tavern. Give him a drink, a good cigarette, and he'll be happy for one of the few times in his life. 

[i]Theme Song:[/i]
[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zitnTUn2z2I]"[i]The New York City Ghost - Instrumental[/i]" by Herbie Harper[/url]
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