Featured: Cocktail for Betty (L.A. Noire 4F)
Song of the Siren (L.A. Noire 4F)
"Last night, tomorrow evening…" Elsa mumbled as she sorted through the music sheets. Placing them down upon the table, she fanned them out for Cole to have a look.
Picking one up, he narrowed his gaze at the page.
Elsa sashayed over to the counter of her apartment's kitchenette. Pouring herself a glass of red wine, she asked, "Weren't you going to dust that for fingerprints, detective?"
He smirked at her. "I'm not always so focused on my career."
She sat down upon the stool at the counter. A spent cigarette smoked in the ashtray at her elbow. She swirled the wine as if in contemplation. Tilting her head to the side, she regarded him with an appraising look. "Ah yes, forgive me for forgetting that you are a man unto yourself."
Cole took the snub with a roll of his eyes, and Elsa blew a kiss at him.
The words danced before his eyes as he turned the pages quickly, wondering at them as the tune played over in his mind. "Sentimental," he observed, setting the papers down.
Mature contentThe Fool (L.A. Noire 4F) nightchildmoonchild 0 6
Mature contentThe Confession (L.A. Noire 4F) nightchildmoonchild 2 9
Mature contentA Chat in the Rain (L.A. Noire 4F) nightchildmoonchild 2 11
Mature contentSkin (L.A. Noire 4F) nightchildmoonchild 2 0
Mature contentCleito in Tinsel (L.A. Noire 4F) nightchildmoonchild 0 0
Mature contentCocktail for Betty (L.A. Noire 4F) nightchildmoonchild 5 0
Zombie Man (L.A. Noire 4F)
Ralph stood back in dismay as Phelps knelt down to inspect the strange, unidentified object he had found. Suddenly the Golden Boy gets caught in an affair, a factory blows up, and the world goes to hell. He expected to see dogs playing poker next.
He tried to grin at the absurd situation, and somehow force reality into the form he once knew, but all his effort afforded him was a breath of smoke. Placing his fist to his mouth, Ralph coughed in a few failed attempts to breathe normally again.
Phelps remained before him as was, covered in soot and carefully inspecting the part. There was Cole's intuition that once found a gun on the roof of a building.
Ralph had seen the newspaper, and heard the story over, backwards, and sideways at the station. Cole Phelps was an adulterer. How he could reconcile that with the image of the man who had had his back during numerous cases that had taken violent turns in the past, he hadn't a clue.
It would be easy to point the finger at Phelps, and say, "f
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Gunpowder Phoenix (L.A. Noire 4F)
They called it the war to end all wars.
Herschel balled the newspaper roughly in his hands before throwing it into the wastebasket. The paper was left to scream "US DECLARES WAR" to no one.
Columbia graced American walls again, as did Uncle Sam, the radio shrieking for the boys to march dutifully off to war once more. While Flash Gordon shot baddies with a blaster, boys barely out of high school were given big toys to play with.
Lynch solemnly greeted him as he stepped out of the car. The remains of an old maid who kept to herself, were laid out in the front lawn. A broken picture frame lay on the living room floor, the image of a young solider in a doughboy helmet, singed at the bottom, staring sternly back at Herschel from near his foot. A tragedy, her neighbors would say, that she and her house were lost. These things just didn't happen.
Coughing at the rain of ashes that fell into his nose and mouth, Biggs cradled his friend's body close. He knew it was useless; Winters was
Mature contentSugar High (L.A. Noire 4F) nightchildmoonchild 2 3
Bogeyman (L.A. Noire 4F)
"You think he moved?" Wanda Phelps whispered, peering through the leaves of the bush.
"Dunno," Shirley whispered back.
Wanda grasped her friend's shaking hand. "Our mommies will find us, and he'll go away."
It had been a ritual for the two to creep behind the park bushes, the ground beneath them covered in shapes drawn by a stick as they pretended to be secret agents. Their mothers had glimpsed them slipping behind it, but said nothing to keep the illusion of secrecy. As Marie had her hands full with her younger daughter, Shirley's mother watched them from a distance.
Wanda had been about to slip in when she caught sight of a lanky man clad in a shabby coat and hat sitting on a bench. Meeting her eyes, he flashed her a crooked smile. Startled, Wanda darted in after Shirley.
The girls glanced through the leaves again to see their mothers, Marie holding Wanda's sister close.
Looking back toward the bench, Wanda saw that the stranger had disappeared.
The door cr
Little Boy Lost (L.A Noire 4F)
Sitting in Dr. Fontaine's waiting room, Ira gulped. He hadn't been to a psychiatrist before, and feared that the doctor would deem him a lost cause.
A door opened, causing Ira to stand quickly.
Elsa held the door open with one hand. "Go right ahead, Dr. Fontaine would like to speak to you next."
Ira stood transfixed for a moment. Apart from Courtney, very few people acknowledged him, or, much less, gave him common courtesy. Yet, this woman was holding open a door for him.
He passed her with a nod, assuming she was Fontaine's secretary. This assumption dissipated, however, when he noticed the puncture scars on her arm as she took her hand from the door.
Their interactions in the following weeks were minimal, and Ira admitted his conversational skills were a little rusty. "You're not from around here, are ya?"
Elsa's eyebrow rose in amusement. "You do not sound like you are, either."
Ira shrugged. "Ain't got nowhere else to go. I lost my family, and the guys," he sighed, "They don't talk
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Turn Back (L.A. Noire 4F)
Stefan rattled his glass of scotch, the ice bumping up against the sides. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, he'd have to order a few more rounds when Roy Earle was picking up the tab. He'd behave himself, of course, fine establishment that the Blue Room was. Earle wouldn't have bothered allowing him to tag along, had he not been the Golden Boy's partner.
He smirked. Cole was utterly starstruck upon entry to this place, and he could only wonder as to how enamored he would be by the enchantress Roy had promised to show him. Stefan's smirk slipped, and he thumped his thumb moodily upon the napkin beneath his glass.
Work was work, and home was home, but the lines did blur on occasion, such as when he'd asked Phelps about his preferences when it came to women. It had been in good humor that day, sunlight streaming in through the car windows, and no one but the two of them privy to the conversation.
Stefan craned his neck to look back toward the front door. Roy was another story. Co
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