You know how they always picture cupid? That naked little cherub that flies around with a little bow and arrow shooting folks? Well that's sort of what happened to me, except my Cupid was a woman, with a .45 straight through the heart. Sally Monroe, stole my heart on a Monday Blew it out of my chest on a Friday. I might tell you the story some day.
Times have been strange. Nobody knows why, but all sorts of crazy creatures have been coming out of the woodwork ever since shortly after the great war. Creatures from your nightmares, vampires, werewolves, fae. Hell, the world's practically turned upside down, all this stuff from the storybooks suddenly real.
I guess, I shouldn't be complaining, this whole fiasco is the reason I'm still walking around. Woke up in a body bag two days after being shot. I have to say , even with all the crazy hoopla going around these day I still expected being dead meant six feet under. Not going to the mortician every few days for embalming fluid top offs and body work. It's hard staying presentable when your body is constantly trying to fall apart, and even with my ugly mug I at least want to be presentable.
Harry Angel, my partner took the whole zombie thing surprisingly well. I don't blame him, with all the crazy supernatural stuff going on our workload is as big as ever. I suppose I just take the term working stiff a little more seriously than others.
Nick Cross is your classic private investigator, Cheap gray suit covered in a double breasted trench coat and fedora. A shoulder holster under his jacket holds a Colt 1908 Pocket Hammerless .380 ACP. As a zombie he is a pale reflection of his former life, white skin and sunken dark eyes, he does seem to take good care of himself. He keeps his short brown hair neat underneath his gray fedora. He smells mainly of a cheap spicy cologne and cigarettes, though to those with heightened senses he smells off, not bad, maybe it's the smell of magic. on the left side of his chest carved into his chest, visible only without a shirt, or to those who can actually see magic is a single rune, thrumming with a low constant power it looks similar to a stylized Japanese Kanji and is about the size of dollar bill.
For a dead man he seems pretty chipper and just seems to take most things in stride.
After serving in the great war, I came home and service on the Police force for a few years like a lot of us did, but after the start of prohibition my friend and I just sorta got tired of it. Harry and I decided to go private and open our own detective agency. We're pretty damn good at our jobs too, with a client list to back it up.
As for my hobbies, I suppose I like boxing. Still go to the gym and practice. Oddly, since I've died, I can hit harder than I used to, and I don't feel pain which is a plus, but I don't heal. I have to stay on top of my mortician's appointments so I can keep myself looking fresh. I've also had to learn a bit of the trade myself. Helpful for when I have to stitch something back on. Good thread and mortician's putty are my new best friends.