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PrinceAlexus11:14pm, Sunday Late Summer
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Fenton Kelly was trying to let the night drift by him peacefully, he was listening to his jazz music while sipping bourbon and his favorite brand of cigar black samurai.
But none of this was enough, the simple fact was, he was bored. Back home in Neo-City he would have drug dealers to bust or pimps to beat up. But here in the capital of shine county, crime was basically non-existent. So he would camp out near his office phone and get drunk almost every night. He didn't even bother ordering escorts, it lost its novelty the first week he arrived. He kicked his feet up at his desk and stared at the ceiling unnerved by the quietness of the street. There was no screams, no police sirens, just calm music, laughter and the hum of electronic cars. He was finding himself too bored to even think, so he pulled out his dictaphone and spoke for his audio diary.
Kelly's Journal, Day 26. I'm spending another day at the office without any work whatsoever....Well that's not entirely true. I was called by the Shine City Asylum two days ago. They said one of their patients went missing...a young man Nicholas Dale Weston, 20 years old. But I don't have any leads, and the case doesn't interest me enough for me to start chasing it.....
Fenton took another sip of his classic 1889 Daniel Raymond Bourbon and rested his nearly empty bottle on the windowsill. He took a short drag of his cigar and blew smoke towards his painfully slow ceiling fan.
I miss Neo City already, I miss the pain, the struggle, the danger. I'm the most feared and hated ex-cop in that city, and I wouldn't have it any other way. Having criminals trying to kill me everyday makes me feel....important. God that sounds seriously fucked up doesn't it? Maybe I need to find someone.....or maybe that'll complicate things further......almost out of bourbon I'm going to the Cornerstone for the 3rd time this week in a row. I'ts harder and harder to keep myself to tell myself I'm not an alcoholic. Oh well, I can hate myself when I'm dead...entry end.
Fenton threw on his long trench coat and grabbed his keys and wallet, he didn't even bother taking his Magnum Revolver, he was probably the only person in this entire city with a gun, which made him feel like even more of a stranger. At least the cornerstone was dark and played good music.
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Fenton pulled up a stool at the bar when her arrived, as always he made no eye contact with the locals just sat down and looked straight ahead at the barkeeper.
Half a glass of Red-Oak Whiskey on the rocks, keeper. I'm gonna be here for a while.....
