self::less

Chester "Ches" Merrigold - Old and gay. CEO Of Merrigold Ventures. 

[itsches]

oqulents:

he ran a hand through his hair, trying to clear his head. “ sure. ‘m a private investigator. ” jd stepped out of the door way. “ come in, excuse the mess, haven’t been feeling the best lately. ”

Chester walked into the room and sat down on a chair. “You’re excused, don’t worry. Look, not to be rude, but you’re the fifteenth PI I’ve been too, I don’t trust them sleazeballs who say they’re PI’s I need someone I can trust. It’s a big deal and I need to get to know you. What kind of cases do you usually take on? What’s your success rate?”

[itsches]

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[itsches]

flcing:

“Quite the opposite. I was at the Museum of London Docklands and I’ve heard that there was one around so I thought as well go there since I do like their food.” Mitch wasn’t sure what to think about this situation. While it sounded like the stranger was being honest, no one had ever offered to get their driver for Mitch and he usually didn’t get in the car of someone he didn’t know. “Are you serious? I mean half a mile isn’t that far.”

“It’s nearly a mile all together. I know it’s not that far, but still, it’s cold.” He said shrugging. “I could come with you if you’d prefer. I could do with some food right now.” He suggested. He knew it sounded odd but to be honest he hasn’t had human interaction in some time.

[itsches]

flcing:

“Trying to find the next Gourmet Burger Kitchen.” Mitch raised his eyebrow. Something about the question bugged him and he felt like he needed to defend himself, but he bit back a comment about not being allowed to walk there despite not wearing a suit. Maybe he could avoid an argument. “You don’t happen to know where it is, do you?”

“The next one? Have you already been to a few which were not up to your standards of meat?” He asked smiling, thinking about where the nearest place was. “Just down the road, take a left and about half a mile up the road is a pretty good place.” He said. “Do you want a lift? I can get my driver to give you a ride, it’s a bit of a walk. You took a turn into the deep city.” He said.

[itsches]

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[itsches]

OUT CHESTER WALKS into the middle of Canary Wharf, One Canada Square looms over his head, inside is his offices but he needed a break from that. He pulled out a pack of Marlboro menthol cigarettes out of his suit jacket and lit it, placing it in his mouth and taking a drag of the cigarette. He saw someone he noticed. “Hey, what’re you doing around these parts?”

[screechingheartkid-deactivated2]

[itsches]

oqulents:

jd was ‘reviewing’ a case ( more like glancing blindly at scattered papers while nursing a bottle of cheap whiskey ) when there was a series of knocks at his door. was the go away mat in front of the door not enough to ward off people ? evidently not. he continued sitting on his couch, but the knocks only got more persistent. fuuuuck. he took a big gulp of the alcohol, stood up, and went over to the door. before he even got the door fully open, he was talking, “ jesus fucking christ !! what the hell do you fucking want ? ”

“Language dude.” He said softly. “I’m looking for a private investigator I can trust.” He said looking around the room. “I need someone exclusively to work with my firm, am I in the right place for that?” He asked.