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Description
He didn't even NEED an updated reference, but he sure got one!!

Lyle, Lyle, Lyle... a literal one-off, never brought up after his small stint working with Carmelita and accidentally producing a Pip. He was never supposed to be important or even interesting, but here he is, occupying my thoughts, making me mad bc now I'm attached.

Lyle P. Brooke is an American correspondent for Interpol, he enjoys his work and takes a more relaxed approach to his work, which ends up yielding more positive results than not. Obviously, Carmelita doesn't make friends with him so easily, thinking his seemingly aloof attitude towards their work as flippant disregard to the law. Yet, as soon as she let's him peruse her case notes, he successfully makes criminal profiles for long-standing unknown criminals, and is able to narrow down suspects within a few weeks. His pattern recognition is ineffable and excels at his job, he's also good at close-up-magic, and hiding pencils in Carmelita's hair without her noticing.

He's also one of the first people to genuinely not roll his eyes at her obsession with Sly Cooper. In fact, he's interested in how the obsession started and, in his own mind, creates a profile of not just Carmelita, but of the slippery ringtail himself. Talking with the Inspector helps her open up, something she seldom does, apparently, and Lyle takes this as the great honor that it is. Who knew treating someone as a person would make them like you? After a while of this fledgeling friendship, Carmelita shows him her, current, life's work, her Sly Cooper case, and the complicated feelings she has towards the raccoon thief and his crimes.

She's a hard woman, focused and dedicated to law and justice; but she had developed a strange relationship with the criminal, falling in love, maybe? There's a lot of grief and a twinge of regret in her story, she thought she could change him, to make him obey the law after he seemed to lose his memory. And it seemed like it was working, but she knew it was too good to be true, she was extremely hurt. Her truest love was always the Law, but Sly had cut out a perfect piece to fit himself into. It was just like him, to take something so precious and keep it for himself. Deflection, maybe?

Lyle let her talk, to vent, to explain, to make excuses, and simply listened thoughtfully. He got the feeling not many people got to see this side of Carmelita, not even her. She never let herself become emotional like this, she much prefered to use her stubborness, drive, and law-abiding compulsion to get her through her inner turmoil. It became clear that wasn't working anymore. Tears stung her eyes, blinking rapidly, trying to ignore them. But they persisted, the tears came, angry, hot and hurt, and it was clear to Lyle that she was well beyond her breaking point. Yet, she refused to stop, she needed to find him, for justice... no, for her own sake, her selfish reasons.

He was almost ready to tear up himself, her emotions pouring out affected him in a way he wasn't used to. His heart tightened with every expletive, every vemon-filled sentence. There was so much pain and anger she's built up towards the thief over the years, there was so much yearning and disappointment...

He did something he didn't normally do, if they had been friends for much longer, it may not have been so weird. Lyle stood up from his seat, and gently encircled his arms around the now furiously shaking woman. Surprisingly, she didn't pull away, she leaned into his embrace. She was tired, so, so, so tired. She wrapped her arms around his back and squeezed. When was the last time anyone ever listened to her? When did anyone ever put her -her thoughts, her emotions, her burdens - into consideration? Staining Lyle's shirt with tears and mascara smears, Carmelita stood there silently for a moment that felt like an eternity. After every torrential storm, a violent hurricane, there is a grey, miserable calm, several moments clouded before being able to survey the damage left in it's wake. Carmelita felt that calm, or whatever feeling depressingly empty was, she pulled away from Lyle, their hands holding onto each other's elbows. Her voice was strained, barely above a subdued whisper, but it still cut the silence like a knife,

"Thank you."

Description
He didn't even NEED an updated reference, but he sure got one!!

Lyle, Lyle, Lyle... a literal one-off, never brought up after his small stint working with Carmelita and accidentally producing a Pip. He was never supposed to be important or even interesting, but here he is, occupying my thoughts, making me mad bc now I'm attached.

Lyle P. Brooke is an American correspondent for Interpol, he enjoys his work and takes a more relaxed approach to his work, which ends up yielding more positive results than not. Obviously, Carmelita doesn't make friends with him so easily, thinking his seemingly aloof attitude towards their work as flippant disregard to the law. Yet, as soon as she let's him peruse her case notes, he successfully makes criminal profiles for long-standing unknown criminals, and is able to narrow down suspects within a few weeks. His pattern recognition is ineffable and excels at his job, he's also good at close-up-magic, and hiding pencils in Carmelita's hair without her noticing.

He's also one of the first people to genuinely not roll his eyes at her obsession with Sly Cooper. In fact, he's interested in how the obsession started and, in his own mind, creates a profile of not just Carmelita, but of the slippery ringtail himself. Talking with the Inspector helps her open up, something she seldom does, apparently, and Lyle takes this as the great honor that it is. Who knew treating someone as a person would make them like you? After a while of this fledgeling friendship, Carmelita shows him her, current, life's work, her Sly Cooper case, and the complicated feelings she has towards the raccoon thief and his crimes.

She's a hard woman, focused and dedicated to law and justice; but she had developed a strange relationship with the criminal, falling in love, maybe? There's a lot of grief and a twinge of regret in her story, she thought she could change him, to make him obey the law after he seemed to lose his memory. And it seemed like it was working, but she knew it was too good to be true, she was extremely hurt. Her truest love was always the Law, but Sly had cut out a perfect piece to fit himself into. It was just like him, to take something so precious and keep it for himself. Deflection, maybe?

Lyle let her talk, to vent, to explain, to make excuses, and simply listened thoughtfully. He got the feeling not many people got to see this side of Carmelita, not even her. She never let herself become emotional like this, she much prefered to use her stubborness, drive, and law-abiding compulsion to get her through her inner turmoil. It became clear that wasn't working anymore. Tears stung her eyes, blinking rapidly, trying to ignore them. But they persisted, the tears came, angry, hot and hurt, and it was clear to Lyle that she was well beyond her breaking point. Yet, she refused to stop, she needed to find him, for justice... no, for her own sake, her selfish reasons.

He was almost ready to tear up himself, her emotions pouring out affected him in a way he wasn't used to. His heart tightened with every expletive, every vemon-filled sentence. There was so much pain and anger she's built up towards the thief over the years, there was so much yearning and disappointment...

He did something he didn't normally do, if they had been friends for much longer, it may not have been so weird. Lyle stood up from his seat, and gently encircled his arms around the now furiously shaking woman. Surprisingly, she didn't pull away, she leaned into his embrace. She was tired, so, so, so tired. She wrapped her arms around his back and squeezed. When was the last time anyone ever listened to her? When did anyone ever put her -her thoughts, her emotions, her burdens - into consideration? Staining Lyle's shirt with tears and mascara smears, Carmelita stood there silently for a moment that felt like an eternity. After every torrential storm, a violent hurricane, there is a grey, miserable calm, several moments clouded before being able to survey the damage left in it's wake. Carmelita felt that calm, or whatever feeling depressingly empty was, she pulled away from Lyle, their hands holding onto each other's elbows. Her voice was strained, barely above a subdued whisper, but it still cut the silence like a knife,

"Thank you."