@pains-illusions
Harvey Dent, Gotham's newest, finest, and most inwardly troubled District Attorney, is not optimistic, but he looks the part well enough. He has the kind of smile that would look right at home on a magazine cover, a nice enough suit that he'll probably end up wearing less of as the day progresses, a tie he can't stop fixing, and a coin moving from knuckle to knuckle as he fidgets with it.
There is something deeply wrong with Harvey Dent. There, just beneath the surface. It simply hasn't been allowed to flourish outside of him.
He also carries suspicion. There have been complaints. It's clear that he isn't sure exactly where they're coming from, which is why he's here, looking every bit the public servant he is, and perking up considerably at the appearance of someone else. He's no cop, but he can certainly take the afternoon to go do a little personal investigation.
He offers a handshake, like a very good boy, and that nice smile of his almost sparkles.
"Hey! I hope I'm not interrupting your afternoon."
