Post by Rister Graas S6 on Sept 15, 2019 13:17:48 GMT -5
Wyron lets one of his back legs and tail tangle down from the beam he's settled down upon – he will never understand why some people like the rustic design of exposed support-beams, but it makes his job easier. Even if he hadn't expected to see Jas here. But... he was almost glad he could see him. He had known the man was recovering fine, but it was good to actually see it himself. Besides while getting hurt hadn't been fun, it and the resulting conversation with Jas had knocked some cobwebs out of his mind. Which he had needed. Drama had never suited him. And he could let himself love, without burdening Jas with his feelings. Although something had changed, Wyron thought with amusement as Jas's eyes caught and this time actually held on the cat on the beam. Silly, really, to do so in a fight. Especially as he would know that he wasn't a threat, not in the usual way at least, if he already recognised him.
Wyron allowed himself a kitty-yawn with a flash of white fangs and then set his head delicately on his paw to watch Jas finish despatching them. It was three horrendously unprepared men – this whole assignment was far below what Jas was used to dealing with, although he had just finished recovering – so it was somewhat reminiscent of a fox in a hen-house. So somewhat Wyron wasn't particularly surprised when somewhat furious eyes snapped back his way shortly. Rather than wait for a lecture, he lifted his head and considered the ground for a moment. But he was still sore, the burnt scar on his chest still aching quietly. So instead of taking a jump that he wouldn't have thought twice over on a good day, Wyron stood up and walked delicately down the beam to take a far shorter jump. His paws touched only briefly on Jas's shoulder as he used it as a way-point to jump onto the desk from that. Plus this solution helped him neatly avoid the blood, impressively little of it as there was but still, that had spilled on the floor. He picked his way across the table delicately before hopping off that, only for a man's shoes to tap lightly on the ground as Wyron straightened.
“Good evening, Jasper,” he greeted calmly, before rounding the table to swiftly extract a small key to the table drawers from the inside vest pocket of one of the men. “I'm surprised to see you here, although I suppose I should say thank you. It made things easier,” he said, straightening again and moving to go and sit at the chair behind the desk to look through the documents. He could have picked the lock as he was perfectly able to pick a lock with one hand as well. Had been taught to do just that when he still had both hands by great-aunt Leandra. But it made things neater to have the key. “Dad did tell Cayden and I that you said you don't care about us looking in on you from time to time. However you do realise that it's our job to run intelligence before and after you take your jobs and yours are tricky enough that I generally end up having to do most of it myself before you're handed the folder to plan your strike. Well, I've let Cayden ran a few lately. And Kellen did one – you can probably guess which one.” Wyron couldn't help the chuckle as he recalled that one. “While the bombs are not sustainable, it certainly took everyone by surprise. But they need to practice and if they mess up, I trust you'll be able to handle a surprise regardless so I take extra care with Rin's. And outside of work, what we do is our own business. Besides you never really even know when Cayden or I are there, so it's not like we interfere with your work. So your message has been delivered, but we'll carry on doing whatever we want. Regardless, today I'm not even on official family business.”
Wyron paused to consider the numbers in the file, flipping back and forth a couple of times on the pages, before snorting. “Accounting fraud, I think,” he said, flipping the folder closed and tossing it back. Interesting in general terms perhaps, except the man himself was now dead and this wasn't what he'd been after. He tossed the folder back in the drawer and moved on, leaving Jas to his clean-up of the bodies. And despite hoping against hope, he found what he was looking for. Wyron looked at the pictures for a long moment, before turning back to the accounting file. With the pictures, the information on real estate and what he knew – it wasn't a pretty picture that pieced itself together in his mind. He didn't have any time to loose. Except if this was even nearly as bad as he suspected, he wasn't recovered enough – physically or magically – to take it on himself. Except...
“Jasper,” he said, his voice even in the way Dad's voice became when he was truly angry, even as he eyed the picture in his hand. The child had died recently, after having a sad start to his life with abusive and drug-addicted parents. A media furore had ensued, with changes to law and more money for charities and donations called for, with the Jas's target painted as one of the kind philanthropists out to help abused, abandoned and deprived children, lamenting about the loss in newspapers. From what Cayden had remembered of him, when catching sight of him in the news and some of the pictures Wyron had found, note quite so self-sacrificing or kind. And with him now dead, there would be only a limited timeslot to step in to see if any of the kids could be got out alive. “While I appreciate the difficulty it might pose and that you're only recently recovered,” he said after a moment, lifting his eyes to meet Jas's, “Do you take on private contracts? If not, you need to get out of here and back to Paris right now."
Wyron allowed himself a kitty-yawn with a flash of white fangs and then set his head delicately on his paw to watch Jas finish despatching them. It was three horrendously unprepared men – this whole assignment was far below what Jas was used to dealing with, although he had just finished recovering – so it was somewhat reminiscent of a fox in a hen-house. So somewhat Wyron wasn't particularly surprised when somewhat furious eyes snapped back his way shortly. Rather than wait for a lecture, he lifted his head and considered the ground for a moment. But he was still sore, the burnt scar on his chest still aching quietly. So instead of taking a jump that he wouldn't have thought twice over on a good day, Wyron stood up and walked delicately down the beam to take a far shorter jump. His paws touched only briefly on Jas's shoulder as he used it as a way-point to jump onto the desk from that. Plus this solution helped him neatly avoid the blood, impressively little of it as there was but still, that had spilled on the floor. He picked his way across the table delicately before hopping off that, only for a man's shoes to tap lightly on the ground as Wyron straightened.
“Good evening, Jasper,” he greeted calmly, before rounding the table to swiftly extract a small key to the table drawers from the inside vest pocket of one of the men. “I'm surprised to see you here, although I suppose I should say thank you. It made things easier,” he said, straightening again and moving to go and sit at the chair behind the desk to look through the documents. He could have picked the lock as he was perfectly able to pick a lock with one hand as well. Had been taught to do just that when he still had both hands by great-aunt Leandra. But it made things neater to have the key. “Dad did tell Cayden and I that you said you don't care about us looking in on you from time to time. However you do realise that it's our job to run intelligence before and after you take your jobs and yours are tricky enough that I generally end up having to do most of it myself before you're handed the folder to plan your strike. Well, I've let Cayden ran a few lately. And Kellen did one – you can probably guess which one.” Wyron couldn't help the chuckle as he recalled that one. “While the bombs are not sustainable, it certainly took everyone by surprise. But they need to practice and if they mess up, I trust you'll be able to handle a surprise regardless so I take extra care with Rin's. And outside of work, what we do is our own business. Besides you never really even know when Cayden or I are there, so it's not like we interfere with your work. So your message has been delivered, but we'll carry on doing whatever we want. Regardless, today I'm not even on official family business.”
Wyron paused to consider the numbers in the file, flipping back and forth a couple of times on the pages, before snorting. “Accounting fraud, I think,” he said, flipping the folder closed and tossing it back. Interesting in general terms perhaps, except the man himself was now dead and this wasn't what he'd been after. He tossed the folder back in the drawer and moved on, leaving Jas to his clean-up of the bodies. And despite hoping against hope, he found what he was looking for. Wyron looked at the pictures for a long moment, before turning back to the accounting file. With the pictures, the information on real estate and what he knew – it wasn't a pretty picture that pieced itself together in his mind. He didn't have any time to loose. Except if this was even nearly as bad as he suspected, he wasn't recovered enough – physically or magically – to take it on himself. Except...
“Jasper,” he said, his voice even in the way Dad's voice became when he was truly angry, even as he eyed the picture in his hand. The child had died recently, after having a sad start to his life with abusive and drug-addicted parents. A media furore had ensued, with changes to law and more money for charities and donations called for, with the Jas's target painted as one of the kind philanthropists out to help abused, abandoned and deprived children, lamenting about the loss in newspapers. From what Cayden had remembered of him, when catching sight of him in the news and some of the pictures Wyron had found, note quite so self-sacrificing or kind. And with him now dead, there would be only a limited timeslot to step in to see if any of the kids could be got out alive. “While I appreciate the difficulty it might pose and that you're only recently recovered,” he said after a moment, lifting his eyes to meet Jas's, “Do you take on private contracts? If not, you need to get out of here and back to Paris right now."