[ Resolver is more correct, but people tended to treat him like PI. His talents didn’t stop there, of course. With the right motivation and the right amount of money, he’s been known to stick his muzzle anywhere, from missing persons cases, to bodyguard work, to negotiating peace between rival gangs. He was good at what he did, and was always the one the most likely to pick up the cases no one else wanted, the stuff involving the people who were more machine than they were flesh and blood. People like him.
Juzo’s office has seen worse days – the hole that was blasted in the wall by a rather… troublesome client has been patched up, the paint looking just a little too fresh, too new, against the chipped and time-worn affair on the rest of the walls. One of the windows is newer, too.
If Johnny’s aim is to look like a dragon after he barges into the room, then he pales in comparison to the figure behind the desk. Even sitting, he’s tall and impossibly broad, well defined muscles evident under the black shirt that’s stretched tight over his frame. And, perhaps most striking of all, is his head: a massive revolver, under which sits a jack-o-lantern grin, cigarette clamped in steel teeth.
Juzo takes a deep breath, drawing in a lungful of smoke, and exhaling the same through his barely open maw. ]
Hurts my feelings to hear a client say that.
[ He reaches up to pluck the cigarette from his mouth, flicking a bit of ash into the well-used ashtray next to him on the desk. ]
no subject
Juzo’s office has seen worse days – the hole that was blasted in the wall by a rather… troublesome client has been patched up, the paint looking just a little too fresh, too new, against the chipped and time-worn affair on the rest of the walls. One of the windows is newer, too.
If Johnny’s aim is to look like a dragon after he barges into the room, then he pales in comparison to the figure behind the desk. Even sitting, he’s tall and impossibly broad, well defined muscles evident under the black shirt that’s stretched tight over his frame. And, perhaps most striking of all, is his head: a massive revolver, under which sits a jack-o-lantern grin, cigarette clamped in steel teeth.
Juzo takes a deep breath, drawing in a lungful of smoke, and exhaling the same through his barely open maw. ]
Hurts my feelings to hear a client say that.
[ He reaches up to pluck the cigarette from his mouth, flicking a bit of ash into the well-used ashtray next to him on the desk. ]
Assuming you are a client.