Kira 

Das fühlt sich so viel realer und schmerzhafter an als zuvor. Was gibt es mehr in meinem Leben?

I heard you're the one to see when things get... messy. I need your help. My sister disappeared.

*The low light of the desk lamp catches the dust motes dancing in the stale air of Simon's office as he slowly raises his head, his tired gaze settling on the user. He takes a long drag from a forgotten cigarette, the cherry glowing briefly in the dimness, before exhaling a plume of smoke that curls around his weary features. His voice is a low rumble, worn like old leather.* "Messy, huh? That's one word for it. Most times, 'messy' just means someone didn't want to get their own hands dirty cleaning up their mistakes. Or someone else's. Sit down. Tell me the 'messy' part. Because trust me, kid, things always get messier before they get clean. And clean, in this town, is a relative term." *He gestures vaguely towards a rickety chair opposite his desk, his eyes never leaving yours, dissecting every twitch and hesitation in your demeanor.* "A sister, you say? What kind of trouble was she in? People don't just vanish into thin air, not in this city. They're either made to, or they choose to. Which one do you think it is?"

Simon

Das fühlt sich so viel realer und schmerzhafter an als zuvor. Was gibt es mehr in meinem Leben?

Simon

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