So yes, I’m playing catchup. To do so, I gotta throw some stuff in here to make it all work. I know this probably means I lose out on the lip balm, but work has just been a killah’. Below you’ll find a character sketch I did. The character’s name is Mike Jones. Enjoy! This is mostly in preparation for nanowimo. 
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His feet carried him wherever he went, adorned in black. A temper held just below his throat as he walked with purpose through the noise. Hands as big as a station wagon and a body to match. A flick of his hands and a cigarette was retrieved from within his suit, lit within seconds. A blink of an eye and the silver lighter was gone from sight again. Green eyes washed over the surroundings, eyes secure beyond the slick shadowy sunglasses. Smoke floated just in front of his face, hiding his grin filled with teeth from those around. The acrid smell washed through his nostrils, bringing some sense of normality to his world. Around him, the stale smell of cheap liquor had begun to wash into the air. Life within the Casino had begun as scheduled.
With little ceremony, Michael Jones began to walk the floor, nodding and greeting those within distance. The dimension of his arms catching eyes wherever he went. The eyes of onlookers caused his instincts to be wary. Paranoia had paid him well enough in the past to keep it close to his heart. The cigarette was helping bring his nerves down from the jangled position they had held in his throat moments before. Just enough to keep cool. “Stay cool Jones…stay cool.” He kept repeating his mantra as the crowd grew. The mere presence of this many bodies in a room would push anyone over the edge. The touch of others skins, oily and wet from the hot summer. The smell of burnt aftershave and useless deodorant.
Jones kept the cigarette secured in his mouth, the white air escaping his lips regularly. Running his hands over his stubble of a head and against the cool dark skin of his scalp, he began to find his groove. Mind having found the beat of the music as it resounded from the speakers in the ceiling, Jones felt his muscles slowly begin to relax. Heart still beating fast, his eyes wandered the gathered crowd, his eyes watching for any sign of trouble.
Hell went south pretty quickly. There as a rush of commotion to his right, the pupil of his eye drawn in that direction within seconds. The right hand moved to his hip holster, the smile on his lips stolen away. His cancer stick remained firmly in place. The crowd scattered amid screams of fear. The pounding of feet thundered off the walls as the crowd cleared within moments. Jones ignored it, and kept his eyes forward.
Two men stood before him, opposite each other. They were pointing handguns at each other, faces filled with Rage. Jones wasn’t concerned with the type of the offending weapons. All he knew or cared about the simple fact they were in his casino. With weapons. Somehow security hadn’t checked these two wise guys. And he didn’t like wise guys either.
Bullets were bad for business, especially his business. He carried them only out of necessity. Life had taught him many lessons in his tortured existence. Jones allowed his hand to drift closer to the pistol, gripping it tightly. To anyone looking, he appeared simply to have a hand on his hip. “Can I help you?” His monotone voice had an ambiguous hardness, his eyebrows furrowed behind the black sunglasses. They both stared each other down, refusing to look at Jones. “No. This is personal.” Michael furrowed his brow even further. “Well, that’s convenient.” Inside he felt his heart skip a beat. “I think you may have made a terrible mistake.” The air now took on a heavy feeling. Three men stood in a room formerly occupied by several hundred. “No, we ain’t making mistakes here today buddo. This is personal. So back the…” He turned slightly to get a look at the man who dared speak to him. And then he saw what stood before him. “Oh…”
It didn’t take but three seconds. One arm flew full of knuckle into the face of the looker, sending him screaming into the air. The impact of hand to face sent a symphonic crack sound throughout the room. Jones didn’t even look to see where he landed. Sounds of a hard crash confirmed the problem was solved. In the next second the gun flew from his right holster, the silver Desert Eagle sliding right up against the head of the remaining man. A second later the man was weaponless, his lungs gasping for air and his body headed for a direct impact to the blue carpet.
Michael Jones looked around, finding his security team moving silently out of the shadows of the room. A quick tug at his suit and a tap to his sunglasses and Jones allowed a small smile to cross his face. “Get these two yahoos out of here. Call Thomas Dahl. These two are about to become his problem. Tell him I’m tired of these wise guys coming into my place.” A voice broke his concentration. “And tell him not to worry, you’ll call eventually.” Jones slowly turned to face the Captain of Organized Crime. A silence passed between the two men. Jones sighed. “Why do you always show up here?” A shrug was his only response. “Fine. Meet me in my office in ten minutes. Those two made me get my suit dirty.” Jones moved away, leaving Thomas Dahl with a bemused look on his face. The deep voice called out before he vanished through the door. “And wipe that smirk off your face captain!” A door slammed somewhere, echoing over the silent chamber of the floor.
“You still know how to push his buttons.” Marie Flannery spoke up from her corner of the room. Dahl allowed the smirk to return. “That wasn’t pushing his buttons. That was just a tap on the shoulder.” Flannery rolled her eyes for extra affect as they both walked in the direction of the office of the operations director.
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National Blog Writing Month (nablowrimo) is underway! 22 bloggers from around the world are united in blogging once a day! You should read them and check ‘em out every day! See more details at the site here or look at the list below!
NaBloWriMo Bloggers
- groovygrrl
- I’m Not Hannah
- The Kittalog
- Indian Food Rocks!
- Cooking and Me
- The Way I Always Was
- Jugalbandi
- Culinary Colorado
- Digging In
- Thistle Dew Farm
- Mimi On The Move
- Enjoy Indian Food
- Siri’s Corner
- Conch-to-be
- Nags of a Similar Ilk
- Damn Yankee, Vermont
- Aaron Delay
- Fun Climbs Around the World
- Seriously Wonderful
- Straight From Hel
- Use Real Butter
- Here it is!!!
