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ForeverMischievous
Star
- Joined
- Jul 29, 2011
"Brother? Your aware that your inviting a possible thread, directly into your 'home-base' right?" A deep, brooding voice questioned, as a large body leaned against the doorway into a large office. The office was beautifully adorned, with a 1970'ies style to it, with a large desk in the middle. By the desk, in a large comfortable office chair, sat an equally large man, wearing a black suit, fit with a black top-hat upon his brown haired head. The man in the chair grinned, showing off a shining white set of teeth, in the dimly lit office.
"Of course I am, Erick. Do you think the mind that instigated the biggest heist in the country, that had four robbers put in prison, without any knowledge of who actually hired them, leaving the instigator with only two people to share between, would 'accidentally' invite a thread into his home?" The large man questioned, moving his eyes towards his brother, still standing in the doorway, now expelling a soft chuckle.
"Point taken.. Show off..." The man in the doorway, wearing a more simple white shirt, to a pair of black suit pants. "But then what, exactly, is your plan?" He asked, as he pushed off the doorway, and the man behind the desk rose from his chair.
"You always have to ruin surprises with your abundance of questions, don't you?" The man asked, laughing as he opened a shelf, pulling out a pack of cigarettes, from which he swipped a cigarette out in between his lips, lighting it with a lighter on the table, putting both, unlit, objects into one of his inside pockets.
"I'd just like to know what I'm walking into, when I get out there with you, facing down a 'vigilante'.. As to not get shot in the crossfire, when you have the minions open fire..." Both laughed, as the leader of the two walked towards the door, putting an over his brothers neck, leading him out of the office as he blew a cloud of smoke from his nose.
"This mansion holds many secrets.. She'll have no where to go, the second she enters this place. And don't you worry. I have no intentions on having blood spilled on my carpet. One, hardly hidden mistake, was much more then enough. That nosy journalist, slash, vigilante, isn't going to get another good story about me, with her own death in my halls.. Noo. I've got other plans." He smiled, as they walked down the hallway.
It'd been many years, since Jason had, in a fit of rage, killed his mother, and 'rescued' his brother from a life of drugs, abuse and neglectance. A life, that'd made him happy, that he'd been the one put away for adoption. It had been a mistake, one one that'd been hard to push under the carpet. He'd had to pull several strings, and pay off many a corrupt judge and officer. But the deed had been kept a secret, until the day the, soon to visit, journalist, had put up her post in the papers. It'd given him, and the judges that had dismissed the crime, in a very bad light, and he now had to cover his tracks, once again. ANd he'd start, by removing the instigator of the discovery. Miss Caitlin Froemming. Journalist, and secretly vigilante. A dangerous cocktail to bring under a crime lords roof. But her trusted both himself, and his men. She'd been promised an interview, allowed to record the entire conversation. She'd get several hours of footage, or at least that's what she'd been told. But he had no intentions of letting her leave the house, with anything else she might use to her advantage. If, she'd ever leave the house at all.
The Mansion she'd been invited to, was that of the wealthiest, most powerful man in the country. At least, one of them. He was so influential, that basically no one dared question him, or his actions. There'd been several cases up about him, trying to prove his mischievous and evil deeds, but nothing had ever been proven properly, or remained in court for long. He'd always left, with a smile on his face, and with one less problem to worry about. But this time, someone had found a crime, that they could actually have him up on. Something he intended to not see happen.
The evening was dark, and brooding, rain tickling down the courtyard of the massive mansion. A butler was stationed outside the door, hidden away from the rain bellow a half-roof, where he stood with his arms crossed, gazing out into the night, awaiting a very important visit to arrive. One, he'd been told to take good care of.
"Of course I am, Erick. Do you think the mind that instigated the biggest heist in the country, that had four robbers put in prison, without any knowledge of who actually hired them, leaving the instigator with only two people to share between, would 'accidentally' invite a thread into his home?" The large man questioned, moving his eyes towards his brother, still standing in the doorway, now expelling a soft chuckle.
"Point taken.. Show off..." The man in the doorway, wearing a more simple white shirt, to a pair of black suit pants. "But then what, exactly, is your plan?" He asked, as he pushed off the doorway, and the man behind the desk rose from his chair.
"You always have to ruin surprises with your abundance of questions, don't you?" The man asked, laughing as he opened a shelf, pulling out a pack of cigarettes, from which he swipped a cigarette out in between his lips, lighting it with a lighter on the table, putting both, unlit, objects into one of his inside pockets.
"I'd just like to know what I'm walking into, when I get out there with you, facing down a 'vigilante'.. As to not get shot in the crossfire, when you have the minions open fire..." Both laughed, as the leader of the two walked towards the door, putting an over his brothers neck, leading him out of the office as he blew a cloud of smoke from his nose.
"This mansion holds many secrets.. She'll have no where to go, the second she enters this place. And don't you worry. I have no intentions on having blood spilled on my carpet. One, hardly hidden mistake, was much more then enough. That nosy journalist, slash, vigilante, isn't going to get another good story about me, with her own death in my halls.. Noo. I've got other plans." He smiled, as they walked down the hallway.
It'd been many years, since Jason had, in a fit of rage, killed his mother, and 'rescued' his brother from a life of drugs, abuse and neglectance. A life, that'd made him happy, that he'd been the one put away for adoption. It had been a mistake, one one that'd been hard to push under the carpet. He'd had to pull several strings, and pay off many a corrupt judge and officer. But the deed had been kept a secret, until the day the, soon to visit, journalist, had put up her post in the papers. It'd given him, and the judges that had dismissed the crime, in a very bad light, and he now had to cover his tracks, once again. ANd he'd start, by removing the instigator of the discovery. Miss Caitlin Froemming. Journalist, and secretly vigilante. A dangerous cocktail to bring under a crime lords roof. But her trusted both himself, and his men. She'd been promised an interview, allowed to record the entire conversation. She'd get several hours of footage, or at least that's what she'd been told. But he had no intentions of letting her leave the house, with anything else she might use to her advantage. If, she'd ever leave the house at all.
The Mansion she'd been invited to, was that of the wealthiest, most powerful man in the country. At least, one of them. He was so influential, that basically no one dared question him, or his actions. There'd been several cases up about him, trying to prove his mischievous and evil deeds, but nothing had ever been proven properly, or remained in court for long. He'd always left, with a smile on his face, and with one less problem to worry about. But this time, someone had found a crime, that they could actually have him up on. Something he intended to not see happen.
The evening was dark, and brooding, rain tickling down the courtyard of the massive mansion. A butler was stationed outside the door, hidden away from the rain bellow a half-roof, where he stood with his arms crossed, gazing out into the night, awaiting a very important visit to arrive. One, he'd been told to take good care of.
