Lothaire is a calm, composed individual, who rarely raises his voice, and carries himself with an air of cool sophistication. Whilst he is no stranger to violence, Lothaire does not engage in needless sadism, and outwardly appears to be a reasonably cordial individual, with the exception of extremely tense situations.
The vampire’s gracious demeanor hides a merciless and calculating killer, who will stop and nothing to further his understand of forbidden occult secrets. In a manner more typical of a Tzimisce than most Baali, Lothaire prides himself on his eloquence, and takes great personal offence at displays of impoliteness.
Lothaire views both Kindred and Kine as his own personal playthings, and enjoys studying the intricacies of their respective societies. The vampire delights in his own analysis of the world around him, and fascinated by that which brings both pleasure and pain to those who cross his path.
Biography:
Lothaire was born in the tiny village of Yerimiheh, in the Mexican state of Oaxaca. A small and impoverished community, the people of Yerimiheh lived in an underdeveloped and ill-supplied village, rampant with poverty.
Lothaire himself lived a childhood that was fairly unremarkable for a young man hailing from Yerimiheh, struggling with famine and illiteracy.
When Lothaire reached young adulthood, a man calling himself “Zavala” came to Yerimiheh, who styled himself as a prophet of the Aztec gods; bringing with him a cohort of zealous followers. Zavala had little trouble swaying the natives of Yerimiheh into joining his dark cult, and those who refused him soon found themselves sacrificed in the gruesome rituals that Zavala and his followers performed in the caves outside of Yerimiheh.
Zavala’s cult quickly assumed full control of Yerimiheh, and began using the townspeople as lab rats in their dark experiments. When Lothaire’s little sister was whisked away in the night to be used in one such experiment, the young man brazenly confronted Zavala in a display of defiance that had otherwise gone unseen.
Zavala found Lothaire’s rebellion amusing, and had his followers drag the young man into the caves outside of Yerimiheh, to take part in what he described as a “very special ritual”. Lothaire was brought before a pit of rotting corpses, including that of his sister, before Zavala revealed his true monstrous nature to his hapless prey, and drained him of all but the faintest speck of life. Lothaire was then cast into the pit, near death, and buried beneath a mound of necrotic flesh.
Believing these to be his final moments, Lothaire used the last of his strength to rummage through the pit of corpses in search of his sisters, but when he happened upon the young girl’s body, Lothaire felt something dark and primal calling to him from within her. Clawing through the remains of his sister, Lothaire drank the portion of Zavala’s vampiric blood that the dark one had hidden inside her, and found himself reborn as a member of clan Baali.
Zavala greeted Lothaire with open arms, taking him under his wing as his newest childe, and spent the next few decades teaching him the ways of the occult, as well as affording him the education that he had missed during his childhood.
Lothaire fed off of Zavala’s knowledge, but never forgave him for what he had done to Yerimiheh. Although the vampire became increasingly inhuman as the years went by, he secretly vowed revenge against his sire, and Zavala was far too arrogant to suspect him. Once he was certain that he was starting to surpass Zavala's own dark knowledge, Lothaire trapped his sire, and his followers, in the caves outside of Yerimiheh; lighting a fire which was spread to consume them, and the rest of the village.
After that fateful night, Lothaire began traveling the world in search of greater knowledge of the occult; expanding his understanding of hellish magics, and furthering his own dark plans.
Lothaire is a calm, composed individual, who rarely raises his voice, and carries himself with an air of cool sophistication. Whilst he is no stranger to violence, Lothaire does not engage in needless sadism, and outwardly appears to be a reasonably cordial individual, with the exception of extremely tense situations.
The vampire’s gracious demeanor hides a merciless and calculating killer, who will stop and nothing to further his understand of forbidden occult secrets. In a manner more typical of a Tzimisce than most Baali, Lothaire prides himself on his eloquence, and takes great personal offence at displays of impoliteness.
Lothaire views both Kindred and Kine as his own personal playthings, and enjoys studying the intricacies of their respective societies. The vampire delights in his own analysis of the world around him, and fascinated by that which brings both pleasure and pain to those who cross his path.
Biography:
Lothaire was born in the tiny village of Yerimiheh, in the Mexican state of Oaxaca. A small and impoverished community, the people of Yerimiheh lived in an underdeveloped and ill-supplied village, rampant with poverty.
Lothaire himself lived a childhood that was fairly unremarkable for a young man hailing from Yerimiheh, struggling with famine and illiteracy.
When Lothaire reached young adulthood, a man calling himself “Zavala” came to Yerimiheh, who styled himself as a prophet of the Aztec gods; bringing with him a cohort of zealous followers. Zavala had little trouble swaying the natives of Yerimiheh into joining his dark cult, and those who refused him soon found themselves sacrificed in the gruesome rituals that Zavala and his followers performed in the caves outside of Yerimiheh.
Zavala’s cult quickly assumed full control of Yerimiheh, and began using the townspeople as lab rats in their dark experiments. When Lothaire’s little sister was whisked away in the night to be used in one such experiment, the young man brazenly confronted Zavala in a display of defiance that had otherwise gone unseen.
Zavala found Lothaire’s rebellion amusing, and had his followers drag the young man into the caves outside of Yerimiheh, to take part in what he described as a “very special ritual”. Lothaire was brought before a pit of rotting corpses, including that of his sister, before Zavala revealed his true monstrous nature to his hapless prey, and drained him of all but the faintest speck of life. Lothaire was then cast into the pit, near death, and buried beneath a mound of necrotic flesh.
Believing these to be his final moments, Lothaire used the last of his strength to rummage through the pit of corpses in search of his sisters, but when he happened upon the young girl’s body, Lothaire felt something dark and primal calling to him from within her. Clawing through the remains of his sister, Lothaire drank the portion of Zavala’s vampiric blood that the dark one had hidden inside her, and found himself reborn as a member of clan Baali.
Zavala greeted Lothaire with open arms, taking him under his wing as his newest childe, and spent the next few decades teaching him the ways of the occult, as well as affording him the education that he had missed during his childhood.
Lothaire fed off of Zavala’s knowledge, but never forgave him for what he had done to Yerimiheh. Although the vampire became increasingly inhuman as the years went by, he secretly vowed revenge against his sire, and Zavala was far too arrogant to suspect him. Once he was certain that he was starting to surpass Zavala's own dark knowledge, Lothaire trapped his sire, and his followers, in the caves outside of Yerimiheh; lighting a fire which was spread to consume them, and the rest of the village.
After that fateful night, Lothaire began traveling the world in search of greater knowledge of the occult; expanding his understanding of hellish magics, and furthering his own dark plans.
Cradled with the pompous peasantry of the Dream and clothed with the woven tapestry's of the truth's beautiful antiquities, Esther aligns her instrumental tune to the otherworldly harmonies with a gracefully pensive and distant ease of derision. Esther is steadfast in her beliefs and passive amongst conversations that try to sway her objective thoughts from her own knowledge of seeking. She prefers filling herself with the golden riches of history, and the past becomes ever more favorable in Esther's eyes as the secular lenses of modern society continuously kaleidoscopes into a crumbling entropy of foul smells and post-modern chaos.
She has little use for the workings of society and has given-up caring for coherence since the Romantic period, which was not as highly as elaborate or decadent as the lovely Baroque period. The intelligence of the World had dimmed its path in the likeness of the Enlightenment, and here she was, too pristine in her reflection to make small gossip about the dying world that the Camarilla was trying to preserve. However, it was true, this life was precious, each with its very own internal universe. Unfortunately, Esther can barely read the map of her own universal existence, lost to the soulless winds of the Embrace.
The Kindred's own journey has trained Esther to keep her nose nobly where it belongs, proven to be a much more efficient time spent of immortality, and thus, her dismissive, uninterested state could also be described as carelessly snobby, which is not too terribly far from the truth. In fact, it has been very well proven, she will not hesitate to bite when duty calls, as is tradition of her nature. For such reasons, she is seen with respect as an eloquently trusted keeper of secrets in certain parts of the Camarilla. However, playing puppeteer has never fancied this Ventrue. She prefers to be the one who purchased tickets to the show, sitting quietly in the shadows of the audience with her evening purse and date — judging the act.
𝓑iography
In the wake of the Long Night, the Sun was gleaming behind the triumphal arch of New Rome, offering a warm entrance of refuge from the setting Sun of the West as the Dream prospered in the haven of the smokey incense and reflective grandiose splendor like a golden halo in the midst of the Dark Ages. It was the end of the 11th Century when the illuminating manuscriptured Monastery of Studius was sliding from the centre of Byzantine religious poetry. However, despite the disposition, during this ending era of glorious hymnography, Esther Ponecius was born to a noble family, graced with prosperous wealth and an abundance of lavish privileges. Her parents raised her with great strictness through private tutors for education and the arts, grooming her in hopes of a more prominent future than the one they inherited from their ancestors. The same treatment was granted to her other siblings, dressed in the same vestments of honor and truth. Above all, the Ponecius family was taught the importance of upholding the beautiful, and in such a time, it was hard to miss the ancient beauty that embellished their furnishings and lifestyle.
The crude of their living was received as a merciful gift of Confession and the ever-flowing miracle of the Eucharist. There were threads of hope, sewn into silk garments that held true to Esther's heart that one day she might be chosen to be Empress if her prayerful life could be magnified. However, as time seemed to pass, fleetingly in perspective amongst aristocrats, there seemed to be no significant worth in holding her material riches so close to her heart. The fine scents and soft weaves were illusions of what was yet to come, as taught by the scholars of the Roman Empire. The only warmth she could find was from the burning flames that flickered on the Holy Table and the skip in her heartbeat when the taper-bearer Rodericus Terzi illumned the Divine Litrugy on the path walked by the hypodeacon. No riches in the world could express the burn of her rosy emotions flushed inside the embroidery of her head covering when she watched him light the candles.
Esther's prayers were not unnoticed by Rodericus. Perhaps it was her patterned attire, richly dyed and fitted for regalia, binding her to the costumes of the mosaic saints depicted on the walls of the Church. While mutual matrimonial love existed during he Dream, Esther's privileged lifestyle condoned any sort of romance between the two neighboring parties involved. For the Ponecius' family, Rodercius was not as wealthy of afamily and sharing Holy Matrimony with him was the antithesis of how Esther was raised. For the Terzi family, a covenant had been made that Rodercius would denounce the world and wear the monastic vows of a new name while abiding his remaining time inside the teachings of the Monastery of Studius. The two disciples were adamant not to part from each other but also determined not to be disobedient to the will of their parents, most often associated with that of the Divine Will. Both conjured a plan for Esther to cross-dress and join the Monastery. And that is what they did. At the age of sixteen, Esther disappeared from her home to took up living as a monk, side-by-side former Robericus for three years.
In 1204, the Crusaders destroyed the Monastery. She watched as the murals and pillars holding the city together were pillaged, alongside many of her brothers and elders that dwelled in the monastic family. The Esther was not spared during the Lasombra attack. She tried to find Rodericus before making her way to the Cathedral for protection. However, she failed broken-heartedly in both attempts and was capture, and for the first time during her monastic struggle, it was discovered that there was a female living abreast the monks, untouched and unsoiled.
She was miraculously saved by an Elder Monk who having gone to protect the Library of Saint Jean Studius, Elder Name, a Ventrue, bestowed some sort of mercy upon her as a young virgin, attempting to fend off the hungry Crusaders who had maimed and heavily wounded the nun before attempting to deflower her. Elder Name was willing to die protecting the Library, but it must have been Esther's astonishing rendition of expose that turned his attention to save the rarity from perishing. The obedient Kindred, having willed her mortal life as a nun for a romantic relationship that would never blossom in the likeness of Marriage was righteous in purity and blood. There was no doubt in his mind that she would make a worthy Ventrue, full of dignitas and noble respect for the etiquette of the Clan:
Elder Name instilled in her the knowledge that she had saved him the night of her Embrace; yet he had also died that night in Face for having withdrawn his aid from the Library of Saint Jean Studius. She was not to disrespect him in any way, shape, or form. He was her Sire even after Final Death. Thus, her training was founded on the obedient hierarchy of which granted her First Death. He taught her the Truth and opened her eyes to the powers of the Undead. Elder Name thickened her knowledge and skin with trials and tribulations, all to be expected of him as a Ventrue Sire. He unveiled the lies she had been living as a human and stripped her cassock for more worldly beauties that resounded trinklets of delicate lace and frou-frou intricacies of the historical ordination that was paving the carpets in the World of Darkness. However, underneath her feminine assuage, a masculine boldness was pressed under her thumb: For the love of Rodericus, under the dearest Obedience of Elder Name, she would honor the Dark Father, through Enoch the Wise.
After her acceptance as a Ventrue, Esther made her way to the Empire of Nicea to live under Anna Comnena and made herself useful with the calligraphic education from the Monastery of Studius, by corresponding and helping transcribe the traditional manuscripts sought forth by John III. This skill later resurrected itself for her after the shattering death of the Marble Emperor John Paleologus Constantine in 1453 and the awakening from the Dream, when Esther continued pursuing the dead Cainite Dream, theorized as a Third Rome gloriously under Moscow’s gold, shining forth like the halos of New Rome during the Darkness Ages and helped the Kindred against the Lupine. The Ventrue traced her works with the literary genre of hagiography in pleasure to the Toreador (as her secret honor to Mi-ka-il's desertion of Western Rome) and preserved the art through the Enlightenment and sacredly scribing her political career eventually with the Russian's new found love of ballet and then as the Russian-American Company recorder who covered the details of the Camarilla's workings in North America on Kodiak Island (infamously known for Abbot Symeon Ivanovich Yanovsky's misinterpretation of the hagiography of Saint Herman of Alaska spread by of Valaam Monastery).
A year after the War of 1812 fueled between The United States of America and the British Empire and the end of the Russo-Persian War, she was captured by the Society of Leopold, under the guise of Inquisition of the Jesuit Order, imposing themselves on the heretics of the Russian Orthodox Church — as Esther reported incorrectly. There were many others taken captive and imprisoned Mission Dolores, California and eventually martyred. Esther escaped with several others by an acquaintance of her sire. The Kindred's alternate identity was "Ivan Kiglay." The Ventrue is still unsure of what his real name is, but there was something unquestionably stern about the Malkavian's presence that made inquiring further on his truth would be disrespectful and thus a strike against Elder Name.
Ivan and Esther took refuse in Fort Ross for some years. Ivan claimed that there would be a Rebellion that would oust the Kindred Princes in Russia; the golden opportunity would be snuffed by an iron shadow. His presence was needed in the conducting of political affairs in Fort Ross as the Russian presence became more influential. When Don Sebastian became Prince in 1870 of San Pedro, Los Angeles, Esther parted ways with Ivan, finding more dignity in the artistic developments conspiring south of For Ross. It was in Los Angeles that Esther resided under the Camarilla with anthological literacy and helped flourish the City of Angel's poetry scene through her Ancient hymnography skills. She has weaved herself through the music culture, keeping strictly to the fundamental classics that have helped pave the foundation for several celebrities in the pop light. Esther also has a strong hold in connecting the past to the present and operates several museums in Los Angeles. Despite the Civil Wars and political upheavals, Esther has kept to the shadows as opposed to exercising her Ventrue lust for power. There is a time and a place for everything, and as an Kindred, Esther has found that doing everything at once takes way too much time for such a short immortality.
𝓝𝓟𝓒s
➺ Grigoriev, Yuri & Alexandra - Esther's Retainers, Ghouls and daylight operators of her Domain.
➺ Kiglay, Ivan - Kindred friend to Major Russell Bell, the Malkavian Clan Whip and also, Sire of Peter Lapin (see below).
➺ Lapin, Peter - A Malkavian she has been bound with duty to protect in respect to "Ivan Kiglay."
➺ Miracle Mile - After the opening of Disneyland, Esther acquired the Neighborhood. Miracle Mile offers Esther a hand in shadowing her Ventrue powers as part of her domain.
➺Yuri Grigoriev School of Ballet - The Domain operated by her Retainer and Ghoul, Yuri Grigorev (see above).
I'm interested, just don't want to be subjected to random beatings and all. Don't really feel like playing a powerful character this time, just a gun toting human.
I'm interested, just don't want to be subjected to random beatings and all. Don't really feel like playing a powerful character this time, just a gun toting human.
That'll be a great choice @Grec :) You could always roll an inconspicuous Hunter class, or, maybe he's on retainer to take care of kindred affairs during the day...
Speaking of a Hunter, I wonder if @Fallen Muse will be reviving hers from Sunset...
Clan Feeding Restriction: Romani of Eastern European descent. Storytelling Note: Among many Ventrue, it was considered a bad omen to associate with the gypsy people, who they considered thieves and murderers. Regardless, Nicolaus keeps this hidden as best he can.
Appearance: A man of above-average height, Nico stands at six-foot-one, lean muscle, short dark hair with streaks of graying along the sides, and light facial hair which is generally kept short. A series of articulate tattoos of animals, mythos, and symbolic eastern European imagery cover most of his upper body and arms, depicting exploits of centuries past. He carries himself with confidence, tall and proud, a friendly smile to friend and stranger, and a wardrobe designed to accentuate a no nonsense man of integrity and strength of character and will.
Personality: Pure alpha, dominant, even-tempered, mentally tough, and competitive, Nicolaus gleans with a genuine confidence that very few seem to have in this current age, especially among the younger Kindred. Whereas his demeanor may come off as arrogant, it couldn't be further from the truth. His rough exterior is balanced by a charismatic approach to others and generally friendly disposition.
As a creature struggling with a dark past of unforgivable actions and consequences, he is quite determined to right many wrongs and while he strives for perfection in everything, he rarely achieves it according to his own standards and those imposed by the Ventrue. Yet still he persists.
And a quirk, some would consider “bad form” for a Ventrue (let alone a vampire in general), is that Nicolaus holds onto certain humanistic qualities, such as having food set out during meal times but -as expected- not actually eating, smoking cigars, or simply leaving a pair of glasses in his shirt pocket. Many of his peers consider it a negative reflection on him, but it does little to dissuade the gestures.
Prague | Blackriver Citadel | circa 1785
“You've been found guilty of treason against your Sabbat brethren, sharing secrets that jeopardize the interests and security of this Sect, and conspiring with the Camarilla!” The thin, pale, dark-haired Lasombra read from an unfurled scroll, eying the caged vampire across from him with much gile and suspicion. “In turn, you have been stripped of your title as ‘Inquisitor’ amongst the Black Hand and are hereby subject to summary judgement by way of a thousand blade cuts and incineration until Final Death has destroyed your existence.” A wry grin formed across the creature’s dried lips. “And mark my words, your confederates will be found and destroyed and you will therefore be stricken from the manuscripts, never to be remembered again.”
“Remembered for what exactly?” The other scoffed, clearly unimpressed with the series of charges that, while true, were still overly exaggerated.
The Lasombra tilted his head slightly as his face contorted into the epitome of anger and disgust. “You Ventrue lackeys are all the same, stubborn to the last, and yet you insult my intelligence by assuming I am not aware of the prestige, the Dignitas, that you’ve managed to acquire for the past one hundred years as a member of the Sabbat?”
He stepped closer to the thick steel bars of the small cell holding the prisoner.
“And if it wasn't for your Sire advocating on your behalf, the Black Hand would have had considerably less tolerance for your continued insolence. In fact, many of us within the Circle are convinced she is just as guilty as her half-wit childe.”
“Kivaria has no part in this I assure you. Keep her out of your little ’witch hunts’.”
“Perhaps.” He paused, steepling his hands. “Regardless, your betrayal has ended here, and will prove fruitless as countermeasures are in place to ensure our secrets are kept well hidden from the outside clans.” The Lasombra smirked, his yellowed teeth peeking through the small slit between his lips. “You know nothing Nicolaus, and you will die a most horrible death with nothing.”
The prisoner stood for a moment as though he were contemplating the words of his accuser. “You may be right, but I am aware of one important fact...”
The Lasombra arched a single eyebrow. “Humor me Ventrue.”
“That you, and you alone, were responsible for the rape, sodomy, decapitation, and burning of the only woman I ever loved. And rather than owning up to such an ’accomplishment’ against a defenseless mortal, you pinned it on my Sire, causing decades of tension and mistrust in the wave of your deceit.”
The Lasombra cackled in a most horrific manner at the other's words. “So this was the catalyst of your treason? A mortal woman? Oh Nicolaus...you are a weaker fool than I thought- ”
“No!” He interrupted, leaning closer to the cage bars as he stared deeper into the darkened eyes of the Sabbat Inquisitor. “You, my friend, are a disgrace to your kind and an insult to all those who follow your skewed perceptions. You are a sack of sludge unworthy of the unlife Caine has granted.”
The Inquisitor snorted as he took a half-step closer to the cage, whispering to the condemned only inches from him. “You will die in the most painful way imaginable, Nicolaus Strøm. Your body will be divided and sent to the four corners of the world as a warning to all who would even consider betraying the Sabbat. You will-”
The Lasombra’s vile speech was suddenly cut short by a long silent dagger jabbed under his chin, and forced up through his skull, penetrating the gray matter within and causing a low guttural sound of blood and bile as it forced its way through his severed vocals. His expression, once full of smugness, had transformed into petrified fear, as streams of thick blood ran down the assailant's weapon hand and his target’s ceremonial black cloak.
“I will live...” Nicolaus hissed through clenched teeth as he twisted the steel dagger, causing the low squishing and popping sounds of cartilage and brain tissue. “And I will see that the Sabbat pay in blood, even it takes me until my last nights.” He pulled the dagger quickly from the vampire’s bloodied head, and immediately pierced his heart, which caused the Lasombra to instantly go rigid as the very source of the creature’s unlife was struck the final debilitating blow. And with the blade embedded firmly in place, Nicolaus grabbed the keys to free himself from the cell, allowing the stiff body to fall hard against the stone floor, before kneeling down next to the dying Sabbat Elder.
“And by the way.” He said, pushing the vampire’s head to one side and exposing his long, veiny neck. “Kivaria gives her regards...”
And with that, the Ventrue sank his fangs deep, draining every last bit of the creature’s vitae, his essence, his soul, and with it a renewal of strength surged through Nicolaus as the stroke of Final Death took the withered and rotting corpse of the Sabbat.
Countless decades ticked away on the great clock of immortality, as time was trivial to one who lived forever. Nicolaus was on the run, embedding himself into the Underground realms of Europe, Asia, and eventually, the Americas, building up what he had lost when he severed his ties to the Black Hand of the Sabbat, and much of the Kindred world for that matter. For over two centuries he kept hidden among the mortals, gaining vital contacts, amassing wealth from various business deals, investments, and black market transactions. If living amongst the Ventrue had done anything, it increased a sense of resourcefulness and survival, and his various professional backgrounds and a solid business acumen allowed access into the upper echelons of society where he could keep tabs on both kindred and kine from a safe distance. However, as with any influential individual with a network spanning multiple continents, the shadow that once covered him was slowly fading away as the light of truth and Kindred interests crept back into his life.
Among the handful of Camarilla clans, Garou within the Glasswalker tribe, and mortal business partners who had dealings with him, his Ventrue brethren had the most interest (and gain) from his influence, and as trust developed over many decades, his acceptance into their Sect had become a natural occurrence. The Elder Ventrue of Los Angeles invited him to join their ranks and enter into a pact with the Camarilla, hoping his vast network would allow their clan to continue greatness and stability in an otherwise Anarch-driven society. Even as much, Nicolaus not only had to prove himself to the Inner Circle -and those leaders within control of the Free State-but to his own clan, gaining sought after Dignitas that was lost to the ages, which would again place him amongst the elite of his kind.
Eventually he was appointed the “Servire” position, assisting the Archons of that time with intel and just about any other duties required. Near the tail-end of the Twentieth Century, as Lucinde was selected as Justicar representing clan Ventrue, one of her first tasks was to hunt and capture the notorious Samedi diablerist, Genina, which she did, increasing her prestige amongst much of the kindred population. For Nicolaus and his part in assisting Lucinde and her coterie, he was appointed position of Archon, and more specifically “Alastor”, allowing virtually unhindered freedoms in order to bring those kindred who are in severe violation of the Traditions to justice, whether by trial or fire.
Nicolaus knew, however, that the exploits of his life leading up to present would come full circle, and that two events were inevitable: His sire would resurface and come for him as either friend or otherwise, and the Sabbat would track him down to exact their own twisted brand of judgement…
Aside from several Servire at his disposal, below are key NPCs utilized to better solidify the information gather network
Elizabeth Salahori: (mortal) Retainer & companion to Nicolaus. Has vast connections with Romani, even those within kindred society. Her and Nicolaus have kept their nearly fifteen year relationship on the downlow, and while their closest associates are aware of the bond between the vampire and mortal, they also fear it may upset the integrity of the long-standing Traditions.
Jack Frost: (Nosferatu) contact and friend. Nico saved his life from a fiery attack years ago. Jack uses what pull he has to lend any Underground intel, also acts as a guide to Nico if the need arises to traverse vast networks of sewers and tunnels.
Detective ? - Mortal retainer- works out of LA precinct