Conned (Radioactive)

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by ♣CrimsonParadiso♣, Jan 13, 2013.

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    Her therapist said it wasn’t her fault. He said the reason why she acts the way she does is because of the way her parents chose to raise her. Though she knows he always meant Brain washed her that way. Whichever one he chose to use for the day didn’t matter to her, as long as she got her house in. If it wasn’t for that court order she wouldn’t even be in therapy. She believed she was in perfect health, but she’s developed a sick sense of humor lately because she’s started to enjoy going to her therapy sessions. She gets to sit in those comfortable chairs or soft and watch the therapist try to Fix her. Today’s session was in the bag, no worries she gets to screw with him again next Friday.

    The street lamps burned the night air, making the air seem thick with humidity or possibly it was just the body heat from the several hundred people that would cram into the pubs on Friday nights. She’s walked this same path many times before and it seems she had forgotten which one is correct. The night was already half gone as more people pushed their way into the pubs. She quietly laughed at their stupidity as she approached her apartment building.

    Her apartment building looked more like a luxurious hotel, then a building that housed permanent residents. The front door had its own opener that would hail cabs for you or help you carry your bags if need be. He is a sweet old man who’s been working at the building for more than twenty-five years. Though on several occasions, much like tonight she chose to use the back entrance. It’s more private when you want to be alone or…be sneaky. The back door to the apartment building opens with a subtle creak as if the door was a part of an old long forgotten haunted mansion, though no one was around to hear it but her. She takes one last look around before she disappears into the building.

    Once inside the back stairwell she shivered slightly. Management always kept the stairwells much cooler than the rest of the building. ‘Saves on money’ they always said. Let’s just say they could at least spare a few bucks. Come on, the air in the stairwell was that of a walk-in freezer, you never wanted to move for fearful you would lose too much body heat. On most nights here in the city it was a nice change from the humid night air. On most days she enjoyed taking the back stairs ‘Staying fit and healthy’ were two of her folk’s rules but on her off days she would take the elevator.

    As she ascends the stairs she recalls her last therapy sessions to pass the time walking up the numerous stairs.
    “Did your parents treat you well Kyra?” He asked
    “My parents were loving people or at least that’s what I use to feel. They always wanted the best for me at any cost. Teaching me new things each day, showing me their trades. I never saw what they did as wrong, like most people”
    The therapist shook his head and jotted down more notes. Trying to analyze her brain and thought process. ‘Good luck’ she thought and laughed it off.
    “Everyone feared them, whether the people knew it or wanted to. ‘Fear earns you respect’ my parents told me ‘If someone fears you, they will most certainly respect you’ they drilled into my thoughts each night. My parents always knew the right thing to do, right thing to say…there was no way I was going to catch up…”
    She continued and he was eating it up like candy, she left him with one very disturbing thought.
    “But no matter what it took, I was going to catch up”
    The sweet ache of her muscles reminded her of the day’s events but mostly of the hike up the stairwell. She ascends the last flight of stairs more slowly; she always used the last flight as a cool down exercise. At the door to her floor she takes a left and walks to her door. She un-clips her carabiner and as she places the key in the lock the keys jingle, most likely alerting a certain mischievous companion of hers.

    Once she removes the key from the lock she lightly pushed on the door and it swings open. Sitting just clear of the door is her pure black companion with just a mask of white around his midnight blue eyes. She pats the side of her right thigh and he slowly walks over to her. She kneels down and picks him up to place him on her right shoulder. “How was your day Jak?” He opens his arms and spreads them out in a large circle telling her that he had a big day.

    She walks into the apartment and kicks the door shut. Then she plops down on the couch and Jak slides off her arm onto a cushion on the couch. She looks down at Jak as if he’s two again, she ruffles up his hair on top of his head and lays her head against one of the pillows on the side of the couch “I think I’ll go down to the local pub and celebrate my probation almost being over.” She gets up from the couch and walks into her room with Jak at her heels. He jumps onto the bed and shrugs his shoulder at her “The den silly” He nods his head then he points to himself “No you can’t go. I’ll only be a couple of hours” He hangs his head as she walks out of the bathroom in a new outfit. Then before she leaves, she pats his head and gives him a granola bar. She heads out of the apartment and exits out the front doors this time.
  2. [​IMG]

    Thick billows of grey-white smoke rose from around the city. The lights coming to life as the sun descended past the horizon. Even with the thick haze that was set across the city he still wore black on every inch of his typically tanned skin. Over his head a black hood hung there, and across his dirty blonde hair, was a mask which is need be he would pull it across his face. A black belt was strapped to his waist; a number of trinkets hooked to it, and at his back tucked into his black jeans was a nine-millimeter gun. He was never really a gun guy, in fact he hated them, but it didn’t mean he didn’t know how to use them if necessary. A small black cylinder rested in his hand, and lifted to one of his eyes every few minutes to check, check again on the status of his current investigation. Hours had passed like this bringing him into the darkest hours of the night.

    Still as it got later, and darker his continuous movement let his mind slip to his mentor. To the hours he had spent training, the rough nature which the bulky man maintained. Still Caspian couldn’t get their last meeting out of his head.


    Caspian was slinked against an old sculpture, his back pressed closely to the damp teal stone. The darkness was shielding him from any prying eyes. The bushes, trees, and forestry were the thickest in this portion of the park, and for that reason alone Charlie preferred this meeting place. Charlie was always paranoid about his old friends turned enemies following him, or current cons finding out and tailing him. This caused them to have a peculiar little ritual. Charlie would wander into the clearing, sing a soft melody which they had already decided upon, before walking back and forth a few times. Caspian was not to enter the circle until the tune was heard again.

    Tonight before the second tune was heard, a rustling of bushes was heard, and even if Caspian couldn’t see, he heard a different form enter the clearing first. Caspian froze, this hadn’t been part of their plan, and as requested by Charlie no counter measures were to be taken if something like did happen because then both of their covers would be blown. Instead he stayed stiff, his jaw clamped shut, teeth gritting – he could see nothing. I thought he was just paranoid, Caspian thought to himself. He wanted to dare a glimpse, see who the second figure was, help his friend, if that is what he needed.

    “Interesting part of town you choose,” the voice was cynical.

    “That doesn’t mean much, at least not coming from you, Victor,” Charlie’s deep voice was heard, a decibel higher than normal. A meaning was hidden in there. ‘Doesn’t mean much,’ was his way of saying ‘don’t move, we can salvage this’.

    “Is it Paul, or Charlie? Or is there another name I should know, one that holds more than even those?” the rogue voice spoke, and the thudding of boots could be heard.

    “There is no need for that,” there was a strain in his voice, but it had returned to the normal tone, this time Caspian didn’t think there was anything hidden in his words, but that they would tell him enough without deeper meaning. A gun, that was the only thing which would cause Charlie that must strain in his voice.

    “You have something that belongs to me,” the man said sharply.

    “I told you who has it, and it isn’t me,” said Charlie.

    “Well, you can’t say I didn’t try to give you a chance, but I dislike liars,” the man deemed Victor commented with a sneer.

    Caspian finally poked his head from around the statue to get a look, still remaining close enough to it, that he was hidden by the shadows. His heart was thudding heavily, as he watched the scene, but nothing could have prepared him for what he saw. The man was in a long trench coat, with salt and pepper colored hair. Charlie and Victor were in the clearing with a single street lamp beaming down on them. Even in the evening there was a sort of haze which rested over the city, over the clearing. Although when the two shots were fired even with the silencer on the end of the gun, Caspian nearly let out a cry for his beloved friend. Instead he pressed his body against the statue again, and got out his phone. He was facing away from the man, and either way he was going to dial nine-one-one in hopes that his friend would survive. H pressed the phone against his chest, shielding the light, just in case Victor came around the statue.

    “That’ll teach you to steal from me,” the final words were spoken from Victor before another rustle of leaves was heard, and he was gone. Still Caspian didn’t move, even when the voice on the other end of the line requested an answer he was frozen. Did he go to his friend and risk his own life? Compromise the police assuming it was him who had committed the crime?


    Even now, in the present his heartbeat had increased to an angry thumping in his chest as he thought about it. Again he lifted his eyepiece up, glanced in the window, and this time saw no one there. Glancing around at the rest of the man’s home, he was now frantic. This man had murdered his friend, and for all Caspian knew, he was now after him… A steady hand lifted to his bunched face mask and pulled it down over his face – only leaving his eyes, nose and mouth a small hole for functioning. That is when a click from behind was heard, and he quickly scrambled to put his eye piece in his pocket, the other hand latching onto his belt and removing a grappling gun.

    When he loaded it, he glanced behind himself and saw a figure, but it was too late the gun was pointed at a random house, a random patio, and he fired it. As quickly as it was fired, the line wasn’t secured but he wasn’t going to wait to do that, or leave the other end of his rope to someone who potentially wanted him dead. He looped the rope around each of his hands twice, and stood on the ledge. Glancing back for one more hopefully look at the intruders face, he dropped from the building, free falling before the rope tightened, and he was being thrown towards the building where his grapple had latched onto.

    “Oh for fuck’s sake,” he said mainly to himself as his hands were being squished by the rope, and his body was soon to meet something he was sure he wouldn’t enjoy. Luck had partially been on his side… He swiveled slightly so his back was facing whatever it was he would bash into. Glass was the accidental victim, as his body smashed into it, his hands released their grip on the rope, and his body rolled across the carpet, pieces of glass lodging themselves into his hands. He had been a bad spy on the rooftop by taking off his gloves, and tucked them into his pocket. Caspian was dumbstruck for a moment, grumbling uneasily at the pain which the collision had caused. His bleary eyes glanced at the glass door he had catapulted through, the rope dangled from above, partially in the apartment. Glass was scattered everywhere, and he struggled to get to his feet, the trauma of the impact, and fumbled fall taking its full impact on his body.
  3. The night air was beginning to transition into crisp morning. There were only a few hours left of the sweet dark night. Kyra strolled down the almost bare streets of Manchester's main downtown rode to her favorite pub, The Den. The pub was scarce of people, a few in the corner playing pool, just two couples slow dancing on the small dance floor that lay next to the pool tables in the back. Through out the pub there were people scattered among the tables in the small hole in the wall pub.

    From her swivel stool at the bar Kyra could see everything and everyone. she turned back around to the bar and finished off her rum and coke. after placing the half sized glass on the bar, Bolton the bartender, walked back over to her. "Can I get you another drink Sophia?" Sophia, a name she came to know quiet well because of her current situation. Kyra felt it was best she use one of her alias' till the heat about her parent's died down. She bit her bottom lip, lightly contemplating getting another drink. She released her bottom lip from its hold and the dim light from the bar glistened off of it. "Sure, how about a green fairy with a twist this time" Bolton nodded his head and begin to fix her drink. Kyra dipped into thought, almost tomorrow was almost here. Saturday was one of her favorite days of the week, no work, no therapy, and especially no probation officer meetings. A day to herself and she didn't have a clue as to what she wanted to do.

    Other then drinking by herself, her night wasn't anything special but she had expected that. Kyra didn't really have any friends in this town and she didn't care to make any, for soon she would be leaving it behind her when her probation was over. Kyra paid her tab not to long after getting to the bar and made her way back home. She was already getting tired from the long day and since she wasn't able to sleep the night before it was probably a better idea that she go home.

    Once back at home Kyra stared at a tv program zoning out while Jak sat on her lap asleep. She could have fallen asleep right there however fate had other plans for her. Kyra barely caught the nose from down the hall in her apartment, Jak was already on high alright with his fur standing on end. She held a finger to her lips telling him to remain quiet and then told him to stay on the couch. Kyra carefully got up from the couch and tip toed over to the living room closet, in there she grabbed a metal baseball bat. Had she been able to own a gun she would have pulled that out, however circumstances sucked right now.

    After retrieving her bat she carefully made her way towards her bedroom and quickly opened the door "Whoever you are you have a lot of balls breaking into my apartment" Kyra called out after flicking on the bedroom light. Her eyes quickly scanned the room to find that her sliding glass door to her bedroom was destroyed and that glass littered everything from the floor to the tables and even her bed. Then her eyes fell upon the intruder, it was hardly new seeing someone clad in all black. What stunned her was the fact that someone clad in all black was standing in her room surrounded by her shattered glass door.
  4. Caspian was suffering from some form of shell shock, or just disoriented from busting through the window and being slammed into the floor. His hands throbbed, likely a nice red rope burn across them on both sides from the wrapped rope. Still one lifted to rub at his masked head which currently throbbed. A groan was given, and he twisted his body until he was on his hands and knees. Finally pushing himself up from the ground, he turned to look out the window and at the rooftop which he had come from. A moment later the door behind him crept open with a creak, and he leaned forward, and buckled his torso downward so he could see out the window and up to the rooftop. A moment after he peeked he saw two figures, and one pointed downward towards him before disappearing. From behind he heard a female’s voice, and he sighed heavily to himself, “damnit.”

    Part of the angry words were directed towards the girl, towards the men on the roof, and mainly towards his luck as of recent. One of his sore hands reached back to latch onto the gun at his back. When he had it in his grasps he pointed it at the girl. He stepped towards her uneasily. He had a feeling she didn’t notice, while the light may have come on, he was still maintaining his resolve. He would get out of there to safety, hopefully before those people got him, and back to the safety of his home.

    “I don’t want any trouble,” he didn’t bother trying to mask his voice, it was no use. “Let me leave, and no one gets hurt.”

    He noticed the safety was on, and silently cursed himself – he really was out of it ever since Charlie. With one quick movement he undid it, before having the gun back in his hand pointed at her. He used it to wave her away from him towards the exit, “Go on, show me how to get out of here, no funny business.”

    He was worried for a number of reasons. He had no idea who the people who were looking for him, they pointed and disappeared … which could mean they were on their way to finding him right at that moment… but there was no way he could stay where he was for fear of them coming directly to the door. Of course he could go back to using his cord out of the window, which was now likely dangling all the way to the ground… he thought about it a moment. The men had disappeared, and this female was on her way into the other room. He walked over to the door, the gun still pointed at the girl. He checked to see if there was a lock, and when he noticed there was he locked the door, and slammed it shut rather quickly. If nothing else it would be a faster escape with his rope, the men wouldn’t know where he was, and would hopefully assume he was in the building still.

    Approaching the rope, he tucked the gun at the back of his pants again, he put his gloves on this time, no need for further hand wounds. He would have to jump a short way, but nothing to worry too much about – thankfully the disorientation seemed to have worn off. Taking the leap a little further back to ensure he was close enough to it, he grabbed the rope and it swung back and forth for a few moments, before he loosened his grips, allowing his body to slide down the rope. His gloves felt as if they were on fire, but he was nearly there, and he would stop at nothing. That is when he saw the men running past the alleyway – not even offering a glance to at the scene they had witnessed earlier. “Well, I made the right choice,” he said to himself with a raise of his brows. His body now rested a foot or so above the ground. He mentally prepared himself this time, and dropped. Landing on his feet he straightened to his full height before he ripped his mask away, and removed his long sleeve black hoodie leaving only a dark blue t-shirt. He balled them up under his arm, and began casually walking away from the scene.
  5. Jak was fidgeting on the couch, he really wanted to go check on Kyra to see if she was ok but he stayed where he was like a good boy. Kyra would praise him would she. All the while Kyra was standing at the ready to smack the intruder over the head and was just about to when she saw something shine from the light. It took even her eyes a minute to adjust from the sudden light and saw a gun. See now this was why she wished her PO would allow her to have a gun but nooo he was afraid she was going to use it to murder people or hold up heist like her parents. To be honest she probably would have but she mostly wanted it to protect herself, her PO didn't understand that her parent's had enemies and most of them knew about her. "If you think that stupid piece of metal scares me then you are dead wrong" she hissed at him but all he wanted to do was leave. That made Kyra breath a little easier, this guy wasn't one of her enemies here to kill her but in the back of her mind she made a note to get her sliding glass door fixed and maybe double paned this time.

    She slowly walked out of the room making sure she could still see the guy out of the corner of her eye but just as she made it past the threshold and into the hallway the door was slammed shut. "Just great. I swear if you break anything else in there I will hunt your ass down" she screamed at him through the door and listened for a response but she kind of knew she wasn't going to get one. At this point Jak couldn't take it anymore and bounced from the couch to come running at Kyra's leg. He used that to vault himself up to her shoulder and hugged her neck tightly. "I'm alright Jak. Just some idiot crashed into the room. Would you do me the honor?" She told Jak and then held a hand out to the door, he nodded his head and slid from her shoulder. Jak ran off to the kitchen to grab a few things and then returned to locked door.

    It took Jak merely a minute and he had picked the lock to the room and the door swung open. Kyra looked around and then carefully walked through the glass towards her balcony where her eyes saw a rope hanging down. She knew better then to think he was still there but honestly the guy was rude. Kyra let it go after she took a deep breath. "Let's get started" she told Jake and her companion started to pick up some of the glass. She went to the kitchen and grabbed a broom and dustpan.

    It took them most of the early morning to get everything cleaned up and to figure out what to do with the gaping hole that used to be a glass door so the apartment didn't become freezing cold. With the hole covered and the room door closed once again Jak and Kyra slowly made their way back out to the living room, there they both curled up on the couch and wrapped themselves in a blanket. Might as well catch some sleep on the couch till the glass door was fixed.
  6. The two men were held up at the entrance to the building, but Caspian didn’t know that. All he knew was that he was on the move – away from the buildings he had been scouting, and towards safety. He would tend to his wounds, which he had eyed briefly in the passing street lights. The good news was that there would be few curious eyes inquiring about his wounds, glass slashes included, and the better of the news was that the wounds weren’t too bad. Bruising would occur as well as potential digging for glass from his hands, with a few stitches, but it would heal quickly. Rather than wading through back alleys, and watching his back he instead hailed a cab when he was a few blocks away to a downtown district. It was close to his home and renown for being a rambunctious party area. While Charlie had his quirks, so did Caspian. This was a prime example of one of them.

    Walking around the block twice, he would keep an eye in people’s glasses if during the day or in store windows, and other reflective surfaces to ensure he wasn’t being tailed. When he was certain of that alone, he wouldn’t walk back to his home; instead he would enter Sparky’s. It was a bar that he frequented. The bartender, Micah, had been close with Charlie and while both were sad about his passing, neither attended the funeral. They were the last two links to Charlie– the only two who would be able to locate any of his stole, or counterfeit items. Instead they celebrated the night after, clearing the bar out an hour early, before both got a little tipsy in his name. In their drunken stupor they had both swore to do whatever they could to locate and bring down his murderer. While Charlie’s death was a tragedy it brought the pair together. Caspian had found out that the third link in Charlie’s life – who had connected him to others, was in fact hidden right beneath his nose – Micah.

    Some days or nights when heading home Caspian wouldn’t wave, and walk through the bar to the back alley without grabbing a drink or food – but others, he did hang out. Tonight he opted for bed, and cleaning himself up, a nod was given to Micah, before he passing the bartop. Micah stopped him though before he entered the back exit.

    “Need a hand with that?” he nodded towards the bits of red which stained his hands.

    “I’ll get it, if you don’t mind I’ll swing over when your closed up, and let you have a go at any leftovers,” a smirk rose to his lips. He knew he’d need some help, he could use his left hand, but not as well as his right – which would result in some bits of glass still hidden in his wounds.

    “Alright,” he smiled at his new friend.

    Caspian’s apartment was a studio apartment, the only one located in the building, but it was fenced off located at the back of another restaurant – one he was sure to never be seen at. The neighborhood was picked intentionally to overshadow him. The only pitfall of this was that it caused him to constantly be jumpy over noises even with the neighborhood being bad. Caspian sat at his kitchen table, the dining room light on, and another desk light directly over his hand. Scattered close to his right hand were a number of gauzes, one stained heavily in blood, a clean one and another decorated with glass. A needle and thread were also resting beside him. He had been hard at work tending to his wounded hand and arm since he arrived home – the rope burn had made working a little harder, his hand unsteady and constantly in pain even after a number of advils. He hadn’t noticed the quietness which had fallen over the streets due to his intent concentration. It wasn’t until he heard his gate creak open – or was it shut now? – when he realized he was too absorbed in his work. Still resting at his back was the gun he had used earlier. Quickly taking it out with his better hand he pointed it towards the door. A knock came before Micah’s voice was heard, “Hey you never stopped over, is everything alright?”

    He thought a moment, walked quietly towards the window, and glanced around not noticing anyone behind his friend, still, he held the gun directed there as he replied.

    “C’mon in, I’m alright, could use some help though,” he yelled his words.

    Micah entered without company, “Whoa buddy, calm down. Just me, I wasn’t followed.” Micah was in some cases more careful than Charlie had been, hell, Caspian hadn’t even known who Micah was until Charlie had passed away… but Micah Knew Caspian that was for damn sure. Caspian lowered his gun, and moved back to his seat at the table.

    “Lock that up will ya,” he said casually as he began working away at his hand again.

    “Gotit,” he said moving the locks accordingly before sitting next to Caspian, “Give me that kid.” He wagged his fingers towards himself, requesting the tools which Caspian used to remove the glass from his arm. Happy to be free of the task he did as he was told.

    “While I work on this, we needa talk,” he spoke seriously, just as he dug into Caspian’s arm. A high pitched grunt was given from Caspian, he spoke between gritted teeth, “Go on.” The second trip down his rope had caused some of the glass to become embedded deeper into his hand, and unfortunately that was what Micah was stuck digging out. While he had felt the pain when he was escaping, he wasn't exactly going to stop midway and worry about a way to make it do less damage to him.

    “I got a lead, and I also got you a cover that can make scoping out these guys a little easier,” he didn’t look up as he worked, instead his steady hand moved the glass to the gauze with ease, wiping the blood free, and continuing. “You’ll be Caspian, but you won’t be Varenkov anymore,” he finally looked up at his friend, “This is a deep cover, the info is gonna be close to the real thing, as close as it has ever been. So you gotta watch your steps.”

    “I got it, what am I gonna be doing?” the features of his face were illuminated, showing just how curious he was.

    “Parole officer,” he said with a sneer on his face, “I know how ironic, you, serving the suits.”

    “Are you shittin’ me?” his face fell slack, shock clear there.

    “Na, but one of the parolee’s could know something about Victor, I couldn’t place which one it was though, and can't tell you why, but it could be any of em,” he said his hands moving again, this time patching his skin up, and tying it together.

    "When do I start?" he asked comically wondering when he needed to brush up on his laws.

    "Tomorrow, someone will run you through all of the stuff, get you all the files, and just be sharp. If anyone checks on you it's a safe bet we should watch 'em," he tugged roughly at the string, causing Caspian to flinch.
  7. Her night was a little more pleasant then her day was but it still revolved around things that would seem revolting to most normal people. Kyra turned on the couch almost knocking Jak off her hip and her dream shifted. Her father was giving her a lesson on killing someone without being caught and her mother was putting together a suit case of everything that Kyra would need. This was going to be her first mission on her own and she was rather excited about it. Kyra was to infiltrate a home that had a priceless vase inside it. Her parents wanted it and they set everything up for her.

    Kyra shifted on the couch once more but found herself falling and then made contact with the floor. "Dammit" she called softly and got to her knees. So sleeping on the couch wasn't the best idea but at least she slept for a little bit. The sun was already in the sky and this was going to be one hell of a day. After picking herself up off the floor she wandered down the hallway to her bedroom and picked out an outfit. Low cut blue jeans, a black halter top and some high heels. Kyra figured that she could do some shopping after her meeting with the PO and then she could go off to the main boulevard to shop some.

    She walked into her adjoining bathroom and closed the door. Kyra turned to look at herself in the mirror 'I wish mother and father could see me now' she thought to herself and sharply turned away from the mirror. She had done most of her growing up and her parent's weren't even allowed to see her, there so many things Kyra wanted to tell them but the stupid authorities would let them. She finally pushed those thoughts out of her head and got into the shower, Kyra only had a little while longer before she was to meet with her PO and she wasn't even sure if she was running late. Her alarm clock was in her bedroom for which she couldn't even sleep in last night, if she was late for her meeting she was going to teach that guy a lesson if she ever saw him again.
  8. It wasn’t until late when Caspian was fully patched up. A few cuts across his hand and arm with bruises, cuts, and stitches. For the most part if he wore long sleeves only his hands issues would be prominent to anyone looking. He had gotten additional information from Micah before heading to bed. Four hours of sleep was rough on a body that had taken a mental beating. He still rolled from his bed, dressed in a nice pair of jeans, and a button down shirt, before heading to the office. He grabbed something on the way to ‘work’ to eat.

    When he arrived a lady showed him around, Martha, was her name. She was a pudgy woman but one who had been there too long. She showed him all of his cases, which was honestly six too many, at least he thought so. He had two meetings today, and the rest were later in the week. His main job was to make sure all of his parolee’s were following anything outlined in their agreements. Sighing heavily he began over viewing all of the work. He flipped through page, and page and page before he finally glanced at the clock. Jumping slightly he got out of his seat, scrambled to his feet, and grabbed two files quickly before rushing to the elevator. He was to meet her – oh shit, where again?

    He scurried over to Martha’s office, knocking quickly before glancing at his phone again for the time.

    “Where, uh where do I meet them again?” he spoke with a bit of stress in his voice.
    She smiled sweetly at him, “Typically at a location specified in the folder, or in your office. If you call them you can always clarify.”

    “Right, thanks,” he rushed back over to his office, and flipped through the folder.
    They were meeting at his office for this visit and hers next time around. The last PO had specified each week it was to meet where. A sigh of relief was given as he settled back into his desk; putting a number of the folders away so she wouldn’t see them. He waited reading over her file this time, since he had only flipped through two of the others.
  9. She decided that it was time to get out of the shower and finish getting ready for the day. Kyra turned the water off and got out of the shower to dry off quickly. She then slipped on her jeans and next was her bra then her shirt over. Kyra dried her hair as much as she could with towel and then left it at that. She snatched her shoes off the floor from her room and quickly walked out into the living room, her eyes darted over to the microwave and she still had at least twenty minutes to get there, well that was a relief. Jak had made a little nest of her blanket and was already curled up and sleeping once more. "Be back later Jak" she called and slipped on her shoes.

    Kyra hurried out the door grabbing her peacoat from the coat rack and her keys off the table near the door. She quickly locked the door and rushed out of the building. It would take at least five minutes to walk to his office and that depended on the street lights and her not looking around at all the shops. But she did that anyways, part of her mind wondered if she could afford the items she wanted to get and the other part was thinking of ways of how to trick the people out of the things she wanted.

    She had to clear her head when someone yelled at her to get out of the way and she was hurrying across the crosswalk and then slowed her pace as she came to the office building. "Morning Martha" she greeted and the woman nodded her head but as she turned to go to the normal office she was told to go to a new one. That made her question what was going on but she did as she was instructed. Kyra knocked on the pane of the door to the new office since the door was open "Excuse me. I was told to come to this office today" she commented in her sweet tone of voice. It was just something she did for the benefit of her PO, keep on good terms with him and she just might get off early.
  10. Caspian had barely gone over the notes before he heard a voice, a rather chirpy voice at his door. Looking up he was struck with a sense of déjà vu. Nodding he sat upwards from his chair rather than leaning back, “Yes, yes, grab a seat, it’s Kyra right?” He said this with a smile, and he had officially put on his game face; in other words he was going to act more professional so that way he appeared as if he really did belong there.

    “I am Mr. Pratt, your new officer,” he said as he looked back down at her file, only letting his eyes skin over it, “I’ve been reviewing your file, but heck, why don’t we just have you fill me in.” He let his eyes rest on the file as he tried to place where the girl was from. A nervous hand lifted to his hair to run through it, a habit he had picked up in his time conning that appeared fairly casual – and if he had to pick a tell well, he was okay with that one because most people didn’t pick up on it. It was within those seconds of running his hand through his hair when he recalled where he knew her from – immediately his hand fell from his hair, and rested partially hidden by his desk on his lap. It was such a rare interaction, such a random incident that he really didn’t foresee her connecting the dots, but just to ensure his covers safety he kept his hands tucked behind the folder, or out of sight.
  11. Kyra was studying this man before her, she had never seen him before let alone around this office and at the fore front of her brain were several questions. First off why was she to talk to him? What was going on with her old PO? But at his words she about choked "What do you mean new PO?! What's wrong with my old PO? This doesn't mean that I still have time left on my probation?!" She exclaimed and was practically on the edge of her seat. Were they were doing this to her? She thought she only had a month max left on her probation but by the sound of this guys words that it was going to be longer then that. "Excuse my outburst but I was under the impression that I only had a little bit left on my probation" Kyra relaxed a little bit in her sit trying to get a handle on her nerves.

    There was no way that she was going to survive anymore of this checking up on, especially not with her jobs on the side. Her old PO was rather stupid so it made it easier for her to get away with just about anything she wanted to do. Kyra's brows knitted together at his request for her to share the reason why she was on probation, wasn't it his job to know about it already. "Alright short version, my parents were a con-artist and murder duo. They went several years following their missions and when they had me they taught me the tricks of their trade. However they happened to get caught and are now on death row, the judge went easy on me because I was a child at the time so I was placed under probation and ordered to go to therapy. End of story" she told him and then fully relaxed into her chair. "I'm sure anything else you need to know is in my file. Is this what today's meeting was about? A new PO" she asked him though was trying not to sound too displeased at the outcome today.
  12. The girl busted out with a number of different things not letting him talk for a good few minutes. Still she answered his question with apparent annoyance. He nodded his head, and looked up at her with brows raised in curiosity. Glancing down at his papers he spotted a little note from her previous PO.

    “Seems Mr. Andrews thought you need to continue with your full probation period due to a number of things, but he got promoted to another office, which is why you’ve got me here,” he said in a level voice even if his heart was thudding faster than it should have been. “As for why you are here, it’s simple because you had a meeting today. It was scheduled with your old PO, but yep,” he leaned back slightly in his chair, with his eyes on her – he always talked with his hands, and forcing himself not to was making him fidgety. His hands though remained hidden beneath the file which was open upwards towards him.

    From what he knew he was supposed to ‘counsel’ and guide his cases, to ensure they ended up on the right track when his job here was done. “So how are you holding up then aside from this news?”
  13. This was not right, not right at all and Kyra was not happy in the least. She sat ridged in her chair trying to think of why her old PO thought she needed to continue. She was behaving herself for the most part, still went to therapy, hadn't contacted or tried to contact her parents, so why? Was her main question but now she would have to put up with a new PO who she hoped knew how to do his job and wouldn't pester much like her old PO.

    "I'm holding up just fine. I've attended everyone of my therapy sessions, I've done the group counseling, never missed a meeting with my PO and I maintain my 9-5 day job just fine" she told him through partially clenched teeth. Kyra would find a way to deal with this news later, right now she was unhappy and she didn't care if he knew it. She was defiantly going to go shopping after this and spoil the hell out of herself and Jak. "So Mr. Pratt since you are going to be my new PO, how about we get to know each other a little bit. I haven't seen you around here before so what did you do before you came to work at this office?" That was one of her favorite questions to ask people, they usually squirmed to find an answer and when you went up against someone who observed and noted everything like she did it was hard to lie to her.
  14. The information that she had blabbed to him had helped him immensely. Already he had a feeling he knew the person who would be able to help him with figuring out who had killed Charlie. At least she would probably be able to help him figure out who Victor was if he at least seemed to be playing an innocent, laid back PO card. His eyes had still been plastered on the file, skimming over it looking for the information that she had provided – but it seemed bits of it were missing. That was when she had sprung her question on him, and a half smirk lifted to his lip. He folded the file shut, before leaning forward, and placing a hand on the desk – in plain view.

    “Kyra I don’t want you to lose sight of what the point of these meetings are,” he said rather calmly even though his heart was strumming to a new more rapid beat. Although, somewhere in his eyes there was a bit of cynicism. “So I will amuse you this once, but from now on, it’s not about getting to now me, it’s about getting to know you,” he said as he leaned back again and retracting his partially bandaged hand, realizing that she had slightly got him up on alarm. The girl was smart, and he could tell that simply from the one question she had asked – and that was something he hadn’t planned for. He would have to be on high alarm when around her, expecting anything at any moment.

    “I worked at a bar before I was here, to pay for school, couldn’t get a job for a good seven months, and now here we are,” he said with a small smile, as eyes looked around him at the office in response to the end of his statement. “So besides work, these meetings, and the group counseling, what is it you do in your spare time?”
  15. Kyra squinted her eyes at the guy for a little bit but then just relaxed herself, it seemed as though he was on edge himself and she wondered if this was his first time dealing with convicts. Though she had never really been convicted of any crimes but the others in this office treated everyone like they had committed a crime. Kyra watched him carefully and glanced down at his desk when he placed a hand on it, she wondered briefly how he had hurt his hand but then returned her attention to him.

    "Thank you for amusing me" she said though sarcasm dripped from her lips. So this was his first time being a PO to such people and her mind started to run with all kinds of ideas. Kyra wondered how much she could get away with around him or how far she should go to see what he would do. "Nice to know a bit about you" she said and was about to get out of the chair to walk around a bit, her muscles were starting to tighten from just sitting there and having a staring contest with him. "I'm just like most girls. I like to shop in my spare time and that's exactly what I plan to do so if we are finished here..." Kyra told him and got out of the chair "I'm going shopping" she finished and then held her hand out for him to shake it. She did that on purpose because she wanted to know exactly where his hand was hurt.
  16. His brows lifted curiosity, and suspicions weaving their way to his facial features. Something with this girl wasn’t right and for the life of him, he couldn’t place it. She was playing some sort of game with him and he had no idea what her means or purpose for it was. A nod of his head was given this time literally just to amuse her, in pretending he was being polite enough to respond. So far this girl was already proving a bit of a pain, which made him wonder how in the hell he was going to get more information out of her. With another set of words from her, he let his face relax, and a small devious smirk without teeth rose to his lips. It was all he planned on telling her about himself. While she wanted her words to be true some part of him had a feeling nothing about them were true – she wasn’t normal in any sense – even if she did enjoy shopping.

    “Right, is that how this normally works for the meetings? You stop in late, and decide when you want to leave?” he said a touch authoritatively, as she was already dismissing their meeting. “That is fine this time, but this isn’t going to be a walk in the park just because I am new,” he said as he looked between her face and her hand. Then as one last ditch effort to put the silent war he was attempting to wage against her, he latched onto her hand, and shook it.

    “Next time, I’ll stop by your house for the check in, which you should already have marked on your calendar from your last PO,” he said looking at her face – attempting to detect anything there.
  17. Kyra shook his hand taking note of the wound on his hand, it was almost like he had gripped a rope too tight but then she dropped her hand to her side at his comment "I wasn't late and as far as ending the meeting I didn't see anymore that we needed to talk about. This meeting seemed like it was just to introduce you to me and that's done" she told him and she was trying hard not to sound pissed at his accusations of her. Kyra took a step away from him, he was rather annoying at this moment. "I wasn't counting on this being easy. Nothing in my life is easy so keep your assumptions to yourself next time" she snapped at him finally and then headed out of the office.

    She wasn't going to stand there one more minute and let some newbie lecture her about her PO meetings. Kyra had been seeing a PO for years now and she was just peeved that she was tricked into thinking her probation was almost over. If that pissed him off the way she ran things then Kyra was going to get a lot of enjoyment out of messing with Mr. Pratt. Kyra waved an arm in the air acknowledging the next meeting and just walked out of the building. "Now for some therapy shopping" she commented softly to herself and proceeded down main street to find the shop she wanted.
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