Brent Hayden

*straightens his cuffs and makes a vaguely contemptful face* I've been coming here for how long and you still don't know my name, Daley? You're not that much of a moron. *frowns* Hayden. Brent Hayden.

Right, yer real name?

*snorts* Please.

Shoa . . . age?

*boredly* Twenty one. What is with the questions?

Appearance? Or do I jus' put down 'ugly as sin' an' save ya da trouble?

I beg your pardon? *laughs* Whose face are you looking at, Daley? *is very tall, around 6'3, lanky and broad shouldered, with short dark hair, brown eyes and the healthily tanned skin of a leisurely lifestyle* *is handsome in a rather generic way*

What's yer story?

*looks askance* My "story"? You know who I am. *shrugs dismissively* *is from a prominent Philadelphia shipping family, and is in New York to study at Columbia* *however, rarely studies, spends most of his time gambling away his daddy's money, plotting mischief, and tormenting the nearest female*

Dat da one yer tellin' da bulls?

*snorts* *doesn't even dignify that with an answer*

Single tanight, or datin'?

*laughs out loud* I think you know the answer to that, Daley. *always either has a beautiful woman on his arm, or is in hot pursuit of one*

Any weapons? Ya drop 'em on da table.

*holds his hands out innocently* I don't carry weapons. *after a moment, rolls his eyes and digs out a beautifully made pearl handled pistol* *places it on the table* Take good care of her, she's my pop's baby.

What's yer game?

*laughs at that* Everything. And I always win. *usually because he only takes calculated risks where he's certain he won't lose* *tends to be a fairly poor loser, even though he has large amounts of daddy's money to throw around*

Anythin' else we should know?

*chuckles* I doubt it. *spies one of the waitresses and smirks, leaving without bothering to excuse himself, since the interview is over when he says it is, and that's that*