You stood at the balcony of your apartment, smoking. It was a rough day for you as you worked as a detective, although at times you felt more like an officer, and you were looking into the recent crimes committed by this master criminal... nothing obvious, but a lot of items that were collected from robberies (outside of explosions and disturbances, and whatever getting Harled means, that's all that really happens) were going missing.

At the very least, you had the complex's doorman--Tippy--to keep you company. You don't understand the whole door thing he had going but you ignored it, outside of the times he'd mess with the doors (and that time he got trapped outside by the sliding door)... again, you don't understand the fixation.

Outside of his correction on how to open doors, his knowledge on doors, the fact he might possibly have ADHD, literally just anything to do with doors and how cocky he can be, he was nearly perfect. Didn't smoke or drink, was often nice and kind-hearted, and certainly had looks.

The glass balcony door slid open and your roommate, Tippy, joined you, adjusting his hat. He stood next to you. "You know smoking kills, right?" He leaned against the railing, watching you with a subtle smirk.