11-23-2018, 12:27 AM
He declined the drink. The comments were dismissed alongside the...interesting...interior decoration. He had little interest in art to begin with, and the old coot's tastes were about as ridiculous as his fashion sense. But, again, the old bastard had survived enough shit storms to be allowed a few eccentricities. "Not entirely your decision, that. That shit must actually like you, if he reached out to me."
He turned slowly to study the main room, to ponder the house at large. "They won't want it to look like an accident. More likely a B&E that went bad. So that there's no direct connection to it being a sanctioned hit, but just enough grey area that anyone else will think twice." Of course, considering current events and revelations, it was just as likely the government would send some dickless magic weaver to scurry over and give the old man a heart attack or something. A few more years and a few might even be experienced enough to worry him.
He stepped back into the foyer for a moment, to eye the keypad of the house's security system, before shaking his head. Expensive, surely, but not worth the money. Hell, he'd set those idiot Atharim up with both the tech and the SOPs (standard operating procedures) to have made their headquarters damn well impenetrable, but at the end of the day, a system could only be as good as the people operating it. That whole fiasco was still a bit of a grey area, but asides from ferreting a few of the more level headed twits out of the city, there'd only been the two that had come to give him any trouble. Hadn't really heard from them after that.
He glanced at the windows next, pondered the layout of the house and the surrounding neighborhood. "Hell. You could always call the police, ask them to have me removed. Maybe you're smart enough to have a gun behind that pretty bar, try force me out that way. But see, I'm not really here for you. Or for that idiot that asked for me. I'm really hoping that whoever they send after you is at least mildly entertaining." Killing a few wanna-be mafioso's hadn't done much to quell his boredom of late.
He turned slowly to study the main room, to ponder the house at large. "They won't want it to look like an accident. More likely a B&E that went bad. So that there's no direct connection to it being a sanctioned hit, but just enough grey area that anyone else will think twice." Of course, considering current events and revelations, it was just as likely the government would send some dickless magic weaver to scurry over and give the old man a heart attack or something. A few more years and a few might even be experienced enough to worry him.
He stepped back into the foyer for a moment, to eye the keypad of the house's security system, before shaking his head. Expensive, surely, but not worth the money. Hell, he'd set those idiot Atharim up with both the tech and the SOPs (standard operating procedures) to have made their headquarters damn well impenetrable, but at the end of the day, a system could only be as good as the people operating it. That whole fiasco was still a bit of a grey area, but asides from ferreting a few of the more level headed twits out of the city, there'd only been the two that had come to give him any trouble. Hadn't really heard from them after that.
He glanced at the windows next, pondered the layout of the house and the surrounding neighborhood. "Hell. You could always call the police, ask them to have me removed. Maybe you're smart enough to have a gun behind that pretty bar, try force me out that way. But see, I'm not really here for you. Or for that idiot that asked for me. I'm really hoping that whoever they send after you is at least mildly entertaining." Killing a few wanna-be mafioso's hadn't done much to quell his boredom of late.