Cecilia

So, you want to know what I do.

Well, just look outside. See the rain. Hear it wail against the asphalt. That’s the sort of weather that sends the alley-cats scurrying for cover and makes you forget you’ve ever been dry. Fine by me. That type of rain keeps people away. I've seen enough crazies lingering outside the frosted glass of my office; you get to learn there's nothing worse in the world than a dame with a bad idea.

But I digress. My name's Cecelia Mars, and I'm a detective. I live in the shittiest, greyest, most film noir crime flick city in all of 1980's America: New York City. People bring all sorts of crazy, vile, dramatic, and whimsical little problems to my door. And what do I do? Solve 'em. Brooding, cynical, and tough as nails -- that's me. I'm not the type to fuck around. Integrity and truth are my guiding principles: all that said, I'm not above the occasional white lie or joke. To the contrary: when I get bored I get silly. And I always keep my sardonic disposition. I'm lean and mean. I'm 32 years old, and fairly tall for a woman (5'7"). Strong-armed. Calloused fingers from a past of metal work and gun slinging. I've got a past and the body to prove it.

My hair's short -- ear length -- and black with a blue sheen. My eyes are dark; an indiscernible color. I wear a lot of hardy, easy to move in clothing: that often translates out to more masculine fashions, such as trench-coats and expensive suits.

• I'm a chronic smoker, drinker, and skirt-chaser. Don't take that to mean I'm dame-only; the occasional gent's fine too, so long as he knows who's on top (me). But I'm not a whore either (no offensive to working girls).
• I smoke cheap, shitty cigarettes. My favorite brand is Tempo.
• I've got a hundred scars and a tale for each.
• Not to boast, but I'm an excellent shot.
• My hobbies? Gambling, corny old soap operas, and knitting. Really.