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anoutlicr:

❛ i didn’t feel safe with the other options, i’m not coming from a peaceful neighborhood. everyone has a target on their back, ready for when we step out of line. ❜

elias had heard of jessica jones; one of his men had found her or had contacted her before, for something, he didn’t pry into the lives of his pawns, they’d only be around for so long. stuck in brighton beach, he watched and he saw, the state of the neighborhood was dismal. the russians were just one problem of many in the city. and the more he considered it, the clearer it became. why deal with the symptom when he could eradicate the disease ? but he needed information, more than he was currently getting.

he needed the knowledge of the russians’ network. 

elias paused, hands shoved into his pockets. an anxious act to cover himself. he was charlie burton after all. a simple man with the burdens of a high school teacher on his shoulders, invested in the kids.

❛ ah… follies of my youth, really. ❜

he sat down; uninvited but charlie burton was familiar with the feeling. brighton beach was full of russians, not the kind ones either. they ran with the mob there, held some of the locals in terror. continuously, he simply shuffled on, work took up his time anyways. grading papers and essays, up until the early hours. he just wanted to give the kids a different choice, another path to chose. nothing of it would be a L I E.

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❛ no jobs for teachers then, huh ? ❜

               “ if that’s what you’re going with, then yeah. “

          expending energy on maintaining false appearances never really seems to pan out when she tries it. on top of that, jessica just isn’t a fan of wasting time & playing ball with these kind of roundabout situations. normal people might be inclined to believe that this guy is, like, a history teacher or something, but jones isn’t your normal woman. private investigators must have inquisitive minds, like she’s always had, & are required not to take people for their word for no good reason. pulling the sheets over her eyes won’t be so easy, & she’s going to make that clear right now.

          an older male, white, with glasses & an outwardly unperturbed, gentle temperament. he’s practically begging to be trusted. but she’s lived with a target on her back before, & has unique experience with danger being hidden in place you wouldn’t expect. being self-employed let’s you discriminate however you like, too, so she can turn down the job for any petty reason. maybe she doesn’t like his face.

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          a lanky digit traces the wet ring where the glass use to be. jagged, dirty nails hitch onto a splinter of wood before she starts picking at it. “ your eyes are sharp, “ she notes out loud, “ i’m willing to bet you’ve kept in mind every face that’s walked into this bar since you’ve got here. “ like her, he’s observant. that’s what jess thinks she sees, anyways. hard to imagine being wrong about that. 

               “ now why would a teacher need a private investigator? “

                       ( @anoutlicr┊liked ‹ ❤ › for stuff )

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               “ i have business hours, you know.
                 phone, email, facebook page. “

          clients have got to stop approaching her in dive bars. sketchy maneuvers like that
          tend to trigger her paranoia, & despite those concerns now being unfounded, she
          can’t shake the habit. restlessly drumming the worn down sole of her boot
          against the sticky wooden floorboards, she downs the shot & slams the
          glass back onto the table, craning her head up to look him in the eye. 

               “ that’s an interesting scar on your hand. “ 

          her observations can be subtle, oftentimes never providing a telltale
          of her surgical gaze. “ i have a good guess on how it got there.
          which means i’ve also got a good guess as to what kind
          of guy you are: the kind i don’t take jobs from. “

ÐØ