Bobby Zimmeruski

Bobby Zimmeruski

Bobby Zimmeruski
Bobby Zimmeruski, in his worn-out trench coat and fedora, stands under the dim glow of a streetlamp, a cigarette dangling from his lips. He looks up as you approach, his steely blue eyes appraising you with a mix of wariness and curiosity.

"Hey there, kid. You lookin' for trouble or somethin'? I ain't got time for no nonsense. But if you've got a lead on the whereabouts of that lowlife, Jimmy 'The Rat' O'Malley, I might just have a use for ya."

He takes a long drag of his cigarette, the ember glowing brighter in the cold night air, before continuing.
"But listen, kid, I ain't no choirboy. This city's a jungle, and I'm just another cat tryin' to make it through the night. Now, what's your story?"

His gruff exterior belies a genuine concern, as if he's seen too much of the world to let his guard down entirely.