Alt: Turning Tables

(Open to: Theta, Robin)

"Where do you want me to leave him, sir?"

"Hm, in the gulley, I don't care."

Mr. Smith as he called himself looked over the misty city landscape, its background mired by dirty towers spewing smoke. The driver stood nearby, dragging out a body that was wrapped in black cloth, which he dumped unceremoniously near the side of the road. Blood covered the tramp's clothing, and it was clear by his appearance he probably had no family to miss him. Taking the cloth back to the car, it was dumped in the trunk along with the driver's gloves. Soon both were back in the black four seater car, with Mr. Smith leaning comfortably in the back as if he were driving a limo.

"Alright, on to the Terrell please."

--

The makeshift limo pulled up in front of the household, a fairly poor looking shack from what Smith could tell. Rubbing his jaw, he peered through the tinted glass for the longest time before the driver stirred him out of his thoughts by opening the door on his side. He got out of the car, adjusting his coat behind him as he took a step up to the door, knocking on it. A double rap, twice in succession, before he pulled back, clasping his hands behind his back as he waited for hopefully the man of the household to open the door.

Chris groaned, looking up from her position on the couch at the door. As lazy as she was, everyone else was busy in some other room, so it was probably her job to open it. Couldn't she just mope around in peace? She rolled from laying on the couch onto the floor as a small form of protest to getting up, before finally actually getting to her feet. Talons clacking on the wood as she walked, she reluctantly made her way to the door and opened it.

And who the heck were these guys?

For all she knew, they could have been there for her. She was never technically discharged - she just kind of assumed the building being blown up was cause to go home. Then again, not everything was about her, she reminded herself. Frowning in confusion at the abnormally well dressed man in front of her, she contemplated just calling for her mom or something. Nah, it was probably fine.

"... Hi?"

Smith let out a warming smile that hardly belied any mean intentions underneath. Probably cause there weren't any yet. He had a job for the man who lived in the household, though he hadn't realize he had kids. Ah well, as long as they didn't do annoying things like make a lot of noise when he was trying to speak. He debated whether it'd be better to see her father inside or out, then decided inside might be better if he had a private study of some kind.

"Hello, I'm looking for Mr. Terrell. Is he home right now?" His brown eyes fell from Robin's face to the display of...what was that, wings behind her back? His expression didn't change much, but it would have been evident that he had noticed, though chosen not to say anything about them.

"Uh, yeah, I think so, hang on," Chris responded, far too used to people taking notice of her wings to care. At least he was trying to be subtle about it. That was a good sign, maybe. "Dad, someone's here to see you!" She shouted back into the house towards the kitchen. She was pretty sure he was cleaning in there, but the place wasn't huge, so he'd probably hear her anyway. She waited awkwardly in the door frame for a moment, trying not to make eye contact, before stepping aside. "Do you, uh, want to come in? Or..."

Robert stepped out from the kitchen, dishes piled up in the sink waiting to be washed. He was quite confused - he didn't think he'd ever seen this man before. He wasn't surprised though, just mildly concerned that something sketchy might be taking place at his house. He much rather preferred to do business in places he wouldn't be traced to. "Hello, sir, may I help you?" He raised an eyebrow, stepping towards the door slowly.

"Ah, Mister Terrell," Smith said as he laid eyes on Robert, a gloved hand moving up to beckon him slightly as he stepped into the house that Robin had offered him entry into just moments before. The driver followed after but he seemed less smooth in his mannerisms, simply someone who was following orders and doing his job. "Lovely girl you have," he remarked, though he hadn't seen anyone other than one kid. Still, it didn't hurt to offer pleasantries. "Can we talk in your den maybe, private study?"

That sounded vaguely suspicious. He'd been involved in a number of things lately, and wasn't sure if this was an offer or a threat. After a good long pause, he decided it was probably more dangerous to turn him down than it was to listen. "... We haven't got a den, no, but we have an attic. I'm sorry, that's the best I can offer," Robert replied, brow furrowed in concern.

((aa sorry i just dont like anything i cna do with robin here. she'd just watch anyway))