APPEARANCE
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PERSONALITY
Positives: - Witty
- Intelligent
- Sly
- Crafty
- Inventive
Negatives: - Arrogant
- Over confident
- Easily bored
- Depressed
- Unmercifull
Likes: - Money
- Authority
- Solitude
- Knives
- Explosions
Dislikes:
- Snitches
- Thugs
- Cruelty
- Unhealthy food
- Abuse
HISTORY
Papers ruffled and the file was opened.
"Dexter Crowley, DOB unknown, approximate age of 27. Born in Naruki, parents missing, presumed dead. Father owed a large debt to a notorious loan shark and Dexter was taken into care. Lived in Karakura town with foster parents until of age when foster parents were found dead and Dexter missing, presumed hostage by said loan shark, paying off the debt his father accrued."
The reader shifted in his seat, his eyes drifting amused over the man opposite.
"Informants within the local mobs passed on confirmation of the child's acquisition, being used to ferry drugs across the town without raising suspicion. 'misplaced' files in the local adoption agency meant that the child's absence from the system was not even noticed until a good 20 years into Dexters service under their wing. As far as can be told, he was only used by one of them for drug services, rewarded with a roof and food, meaning this supplier had one of the more successful movements of his stock in all of Karakura."
The reader smirked.
"This is where the plans changed, and fast. Papers were forged, references conjured and a history created for Dexter Crowley. Allowing him to take a place in society while continuing his service. Making a name for himself in the trade for a 100% delivery success rate, with a brief side-line in collecting money from people who owed it. However this soon came to a close when people got the message that he would be sent around and this service was no longer required. Creating his own line of supply and demand behind the back of his employer, and soon taking over the business when the suppliers supplier saw the real power behind the scene."
The reader grimaced, cursing under his breath mildly. Looking up at the man and tutting quietly while shaking his head slowly.
"The remaining informant sent out one last message before his reported execution, stating that the drug dealer known as Dexter Crowley was now trading under the alias "Pinpoint". This was all I needed to submit into the local Police, the demand for all of his information was something he relished to give them. As a reporter it is my duty blah blah blah blah. I get the point"
He placed down the files, looking at the other man. Scenery passed beside them, out the tinted window of the limo. Children going to school, parents and traders on the way to work. A normal world. The limo passed them all, going the way they came and turning around by the river, parking right by the edge. The reader looked pointedly at the man who seemed to be perspiring a rather lot.
"Talk"
The man gulped "Um...sorry?"
"Sorry...Hm" he laughed. Laughing more, and louder, until he was rocking with laughter. The man looked nervous, smiling and then started laughing with him.
The reader immediately stopped laughing and looked at the man, who also stopped laughing and now just looked scared.
"Look, I am sorry alright? You were a name on my desk they asked me to write about, its not my fault."
The reader considered this.
"No, its not. However wrong place, wrong time and all that."
He adjusted his sleeves, the man opened his mouth to start begging. But before a noise escaped, a knife was sticking through the back of it. Cracking his spine and killing him instantly. The reader settled back down in his chair, lowering his throwing arm. He rapped on the roof, two large men coming into the limo, looking around and then dragging the man out, closing the door behind them. The reader smiled forcefully and composed himself, adjusting and straightening his suit.
A splash could be heard from outside, the limo rocking slightly as the thugs got back in the driving seat. Barbarians to a man, but a necessity for his business. Cheap muscle was a gods blessing, and there was no want of them when asked for. Pulling out a lighter, he set fire to the files, the only record of his life next to him on a metal tray, until there was nothing left. The limo went back around the block, the last of the mornings people going to their destinations. Until finally he arrived at his own. Picking up his briefcase and stepping inside, walking up to the lady waiting to receive him, she smiled, he smiled back. Here he was, the perfect cover for his new assignment, where little to no one would suspect his actions and he could keep an eye on the market first hand. "Welcome...Mr Crowley?" he nodded. "Welcome to Karakura high school."
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