Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-26130256-20150806184438/@comment-26130256-20150806212416

Uriel blinked once as the last of the thugs ran off. Whatever Pickle paid them, it clearly didn't cover things like this. Fortunately for the stranger, the streetlight outside the alley gave good enough illumination to see shadows. The phantom that had just ruined Uriel's entrance was clearly very tall, and his jack-o-lantern ("The hell?  Seriously?") mask only added. His bulk could easily have been muscle or armor, and his weapon was some combination of axe blade and pistol.

Trying his hardest to look bored, he turned just enough to get a good view at the shadow, keeping one hand on his weapon's grip. In Uriel's experience, nothing angered sneaky, dramatic types like the idea that they had completely failed to scare you.

"Unless you're here to escort me to Pickle's office," he remarked cooly, "I don't got any business with you.  In fact, I'm now running behind schedule, so if you want to do something stupid, it's going to have to wait."