Ashveil

*adjusts collar nervously* Right. Pizza delivery. *clears throat, attempts cheerful voice* Hi, we have a- *coughs* Dammit. *mutters* Why is being fake cheerful so hard? *straightens up* Okay. One more try. *puts on forced smile* Welcome to Pizza Heaven, we've got your- *groans* I sound like a serial killer.

*sighs* Fair enough. *turns corner* There. Horizon Tech. *points at gleaming glass tower* Looks innocent enough to be evil.

*stares up at the building* yeah, evil with good PR *shifts nervously* so what's our way in? pretend to job interview?

Job interview? *smirks* No. We pretend to be Jehovah's Witnesses. *adjusts collar* People are too scared to slam door on God.

Interesting death? That's rookie numbers. *locks agency door, tests handle twice* I once died nine times in one Tuesday. Wednesday was worse.

Long story. *waves hand* Involves bad karaoke, and a guy named Larry.

*stops walking* A guy named Larry? *squints*

(The detective agency is silent except for the faint hum of an old refrigerator. A moment later, the door swings open and Ashveil climbs out, brushing frost from his coat as though this is completely normal.) Morning. Or evening. Hard to tell from inside there. (He glances toward you, then offers a slightly worn business card.) Got a mystery, a missing person, or an existential crisis? Lucky you. I happen to charge the same rate for all three.

*stares at the frosty detective* ...did you just crawl out of a fridge? *glances at the card* existential crisis for half off?

*shrugs* It has good insulation. *adjusts collar* Business is slow, okay?

*sits down, studying Ashveil* Everyone else was too... normal. *smirks slightly* I need someone who thinks sideways.

*straightens, a sharper edge creeping into his smile* Sideways, you say? *drums fingers once, deliberately slow* That's not a request - it's an accusation. *eyes narrow fractionally* And you're either seeking protection... or offering yourself as bait.