693/The Wonderful Thing About Tigras

The Wonderful Thing About Tigras
Date of Scene:	30 May 2017
Location:	Vancouver area, Canada, then New York area
Synopsis:	Tigra learns more about her target, then they work together to deal with an issue.
Cast of Characters:	Tigra, Ares

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Tigra has posed:
Tigra waggles a few fingers Oliver's way, perhaps confident their paths will cross again sometime, somewhere. John is her main focus now and as the two begin to walk, they present quite the striking contrast. He, big, tall, and with an oversized carnival prize. She, well, a humanoid tigress. What more need be said there?

The shift in location makes it easier to speak without trying to hide half their words under whispered breaths. "Guy's name is Milton Burl. I think he used to be some kind of actor who died before I was born, but the name was spelled differently."

She waves off the small talk and shakes her head. "Anyway, as he tells it, there was this auction and you outbid him out of nowhere for a few things and intimidated the auctioneer into not taking any more bids. I'll be honest with you. It sounds like sour grapes to me. He wants the stuff for himself, but he didn't exactly give me the money to pay you with, and I have a feeling you're not interested in that anyway." Hands gesture outward slightly, palms up. "So, is there a story behind this you'd like me to know, or should I go party for the next couple days and tell him I came up empty?"

Ares has posed:
    The gleeful smile on Shrek's face looks positively disturbing considering the wide eyes and empty gaze of the giant stuffed ogre, but he's hoisted around easily enough on the arm of John Aaron, occasionally running into a stall or another, his big feet at times colliding with a passerby here and there. Not that Ares notices.
    Yet as they walk she has his attention, his gaze sidelong towards her as he listens to her words. A small grunt is given at the name given, not one of recognition, simply acknowledgement. But then she continues on and his gaze distances ahead. A moment and he steps forwards ahead of her slightly to make sure a group of kids get out of the way, but then slows his step to end up beside her again. "The Roman artifacts." He gives a nod.
    A few more paces as he gives thought to her words and the situation, then he murmurs askance towards her. "Why are you being so accomodating in this matter, Ms. Tigra?" For truly, a private eye erring on the side of the subject of an investigation as opposed to the client... that usually only happens in Sam Spade novels.

Tigra has posed:
"The Roman artifiacts," Tigra confirms as he verifies the last part of what she suspected. The answer he gets first is a mixture of serious and less so. "Why? You look big enough to make me go splat if you really wanted to, and ending up as Flat Cat on the Roadkill Cafe menu is not my idea of a good way to go out."

After that, she adds, "Just because I agree to investigate someone, that doesn't mean you're guilty until proven innocent. The truth of it is it's his word against yours. He wants me to steal the stuff back from you, and I'm not real big on that sort of thing. I don't know if you bullied your way into winning those bids or not, and I don't know what you wanted the stuff for, but you know cats are curious. I'm just not too keen on the dying part. For all I know, you're just a collector with a lot of money who also happens to be an expert archer." The tail continues to sway, but there's a hint of additional rigidity to it. Beneath the surface, she's somewhat tense.

Ares has posed:
    At her verification he nods again. They've reached the edge of the fairway, the last vendors and ticket-takers there still doing a brisk business. But he holds his words until they find a nearby benchseat where he can set Shrek down to the side and then he takes a seat beside it. At this level he looks up at her and perhaps doesn't seem quite as intimidating as he normally does so. But his eyes still have that subtle preternatural vibrance.
    "And you have sharp edges about you, Ms. Tigra. I am sure you could handle yourself quite well." He leans back a touch, sliding his leg over his knee as he looks thoughtfully towards the parking lot, perhaps seeking his rental car, but then looking back towards the feline being. "But I have no intention on doing you harm. If you stole the items I would be displeased..." He flares his hands slightly, "But it would not be worth doing you injury."
    But then, perhaps for the first time that evening, his lip quirks and a ghost of a smile threatens his features. "Not to say that you should. I would, of course, prefer to keep them. But still."
    There's a pause then before he adds, "I purchased them primarily out of... a feeling of sentimentality if you will."

Tigra has posed:
Tigra keeps pace easily, especially since John Aaron is setting one she doesn't have to speed up to match. When he plants himself on the bench, she watches him for a couple seconds as he begins to say more, then she takes up a spot of her own. Only, her way of doing it is to perch on the back of the bench, her hands and feet used for balance, tail as well.

"I've been in a catfight or two, yeah. But, I don't like to fight unless there's a good reason for it." Expression runs from expecting to hear what he says about not wishing for her to steal the artifacts to a brief arching of a brow when told it wouldn't be worth trying to hurt her, to amusement when that hint of a smile pops up.

"You did pay for them, after all. Legally, they're yours. But..sentimentality? He wasn't very forthcoming with me when I asked him why they're important enough to send me all the way out here to find you, or how he even knew you'd be here. You don't happen to know why he wants these things so badly, do you?" Tigra wonders, hoping to fill in one more blank if she can.

Ares has posed:
    "Mmm," Ares draws the corner of his mouth between his teeth, biting into the flesh for a moment, not worrying it but more like a mild scowl being contained, curiously animal-like in its own way. But he spreads his hands slightly, as if brushing away the questions though he does answer them. "Mr. Burl, if he is the man I believe him to be, comes from a family that is not comfortable with loss. In competition, business, social connections... what have you."
    He pushes a hand over his short stubbly hair and lets the grimace blossom a touch further. "I knew his father some time ago, I believe he is just not used to... losing." But then there's a pause as something seems to occur to him.
    Oh at a glance one might get the impression the large man is a brute, mindless, living from moment to moment. But there is a cunning to him, she can perhaps see it as he looks away from her with his brow furrowed.
    For a moment he scans the crowd, then he looks back towards her. "It also strikes me that chances are he hired you for your... unique gifts, Tigra." For once he does not say the 'Ms' as if getting more at ease with whatever read he's taken of her. "Which leads my thoughts to the likelihood that he is not one who would put all his eggs in one basket, as it were. Tell me, are there others perhaps as gifted as you in your field, but perhaps not as... ethical?"

Tigra has posed:
"A sore loser, then," Tigra decides, rolling her eyes. "Probably born with a silver spoon in his mouth, super rich family, probably the sort that own casinos, build a bunch of properties, own country clubs, go hunting just to take pictures with their kills, scam people out of their own money by selling stupid, overpriced crap they make you think you just have to have.."

She clears her throat, coughing into a hand. "Got a little off track there, but you know what I mean." Her tail slows down after moving in a more agitated, pointed way while she spoke, but the man's hypothesis leads to a thoughtful look across her face. "You know, that wouldn't surprise me. If he did /any/ homework on me at all, he should have known I wasn't just going to steal anything for him. Yeah, there are probably others out there who would. Aren't there always bad apples?"

Ares has posed:
    A most severe scowl appears on his features and if the weather was more dark she might almost imagine a thunder cloud manifesting over his head. His manner grows stern and he gains his feet, "Most likely... he assumed I would become distracted with you and your charms, giving him time to procure the artifacts." Since, to be fair, he has been known to get distracted by a pretty face in the past.
    Shrek is hoisted by his giganto belt-buckle and slung over Ares' shoulder even as he digs into his loose jacket for the cellphone within. He swipes it active and then keys a number, turning away from Tigra for a moment while lifting a finger just enough to signal for her to grant him a moment. The phone rings...
    "Alexander. No I did not get you a pokey man. No. It is a Shrek. No. Nevermind. This is important, child. Listen!" For a brief moment his voice rises and she can probably imagine the youngster on the other end snapping to attention.
    "Tell Pluto to keep watch, there might be an intruder. If he breaks in call the authorities. Defend yourself if you must. Do not kill them. No. No. What did I say? Good soldier."
    Click. He frowns and looks at the phone, then back to Tigra.

Tigra has posed:
"...damn." Tigra realizes John might just be right with his suspicion, and she hops off the back of the bench into a slight crouch of readiness while he...gets on the phone. This leave her to stand back up and, while listening, scuff at a few claws as patiently as she can. The Shrek is glanced at. What movie was that franchise on now? The eighth?

Once the phone call is over - Pluto? - she asks simply, "Want a temporary partner?"

Ares has posed:
    If she had some insight into the way his mind worked she might not be so quick to volunteer. Oh he believes she is most likely as she seems, but ages of being involved in the great game between gods has left him with suspicion and a compulsion to consider the worst possible cases in situations such as this. So when he looks at her he sees a possible partner, but also perhaps this is all tactics, subterfuge. Perhaps she is seeking him to take her to the relics, or to expose some sort of weakness.
    Yet the main thing that overcomes this momentary hesitation is not trust in her, though again... she has given him no reason to distrust her quite yet, it is perhaps arrogance in his belief that he can handle whatever is thrown at him. After all... he is Ares.
    "As you would, come with me." He moves towards the exit from the fairgrounds, turning towards the parking lot but keeping to the sidewalk that circumnavigates it. Perhaps she might be getting the idea of a road trip in mind, perhaps a mad dash to the airport. But as they continue to an out of the way area near a picnic area but away from the parking lot, he hands Shrek off to her and asks. "Hold this, please? If you don't mind."
    And there, in the middle of the picnic benches he closes his eyes and seems to focus inwards.

Tigra has posed:
Tigra must not know the truth behind John/Ares. Otherwise, she might have just bounced on out of here already. That could still happen at any time, but..not yet. Wordlessly for now, she strides off with him toward all the vehicles - there are none here she's using - and ends up waiting with the big Shrek toy that's only about a foot shorter than she is. "Uh, yeah. Got it."

But what's he up to now? What's with the extra concentration, the determined look on his face? Mouth opens, closes. She'll wait, but a couple steps are taken back away from him. Something's pinging her tiger senses.

Ares has posed:
    At first it's nothing. It's just sort of quiet there at the outskirts of the parking lot. There's a steady stream of cars in queue to get out of there and on their way, but little attention is being paid over towards them, save perhaps a second glance shot now and then at the big green stuffed ogre.
    But then it feels even more quiet, strangely so, as if the sounds were having a hard time making their way towards them. Then there's a swirl of a breeze around them, fallen leaves being thrown into the air in a circular brush of movement that comes up around them.
    Finally his features set in a frown as the image of the world beyond them seems to freeze. No longer is anything moving, no longer are the cars rolling steadily forwards or the leaves flitting through the air. It's just him, her, and Shrek in a small circle of preserved reality that remains still as around them the rest of it begins to contort like a misshapen mirror placed all around them. The imagery flows, changes, then as the image becomes the most distorted... it begins to flow back together as normal.
    Only now, as reality reasserts itself they are no longer amongst those picnic tables on a fairground in Canada. No there's the familiar skyline of Manhattan distantly as they reappear in a wooded lot somewhere near. Perhaps Queens, perhaps across the river in Jersey. Wherever they are, it's a decent yard with a canopy of trees and even a gazebo, fenced in with a tall wall that is coloured to look like the wild around them.
    It's then, once things have settled down, that he opens his eyes and grimaces slightly. "Come, something is amiss." He begins to stride down the stone path that leads to the back of the house.

Tigra has posed:
It figures the Shrek would be getting the most attention. After all, someone must have been really good at those rigged games in order to win such a big prize. The biggest!

Of greater significance and attention is what's going on around her. The shimmering, the way things just slow to a stop, like the world pauses and what she sees runs away to be replaced by...what?

There's a momentarily dazed expression on Tigra's face that's quickly replaced by disbelief and wonder. "What just hap..whoa." They're most definitely /not/ where they just had been. Instead, it appears to be a residence. "Okay, I'm going to have to ask you about that later," she declares, but now with her bare feet on the stony walk, she and Shrek are on their way toward following. The tail flicks a few times, hinting at some agitation.

Ares has posed:
    As they move up the way, there's the sound of barking, loud heavy and deep throated /rowf-rowf!/ sounds clearly shouting an alarm in canine-speak.
    It's not very far up the path to the simple house. It's a two story cape pehaps, with an addition that grants it some more space. But other than that there really is little of remark about it. It's no Wayne Manor, not even a McMansion, and it might be surprisingly homey considering the man who owns it. But before more than a cursory glance can be taken the eye is drawn towards the silhouette of the being who stands outside the sliding glass door, its fist curled up and /banging/ on the back of it with a strength that might be surprising considering it doesn't shatter the glass when by all rights it should.
    Suddenly, at the sound of their approach, the creature turns its snout sharply around and bares fangs, its wolf-like maw and furry form hunched and angry as it attempts to intimidate Tigra and John Aaron. Behind the glass the guard dog keeps barking loudly, crouched low and its eyes glowing red as it seems to make ready to launch itself to the attack should the 'werewolf' creature break through the glass.
    But then, upon seeing their approach, the wolf-creature straightens up abruptly. "I am not gettin' paid enough for this." He holds his hands up and snarls again. And as he rounds they might see what looks like an arrow? Or a crossbow bolt embedded in his arm, a faint trickle of blood trailing down it.

Tigra has posed:
Her orientation back and wits about her, Tigra closes in on the backyard of the place, the stupid Shrek toy still in tow. "Nice place, at least," she admits, before the barking interrupts whatever admiration she was offering up. That's when she sees him.

"/Rover?/ Is that /you?/" she asks, trying her best not to laugh. "Don't tell me Burl tried to use me as a distraction and hired you to break in. Oh, jeez. I saw you around Mutant Town. How many other 'PIs' did he have to go through before he picked you?" Clearly, her opinion of the wolfman is not very high.

As the barking from within carries on and the glass remains unbroken, she readies to swing Shrek at 'Rover' - he hates being called that - only to whistle at the sight of the crossbow bolt. "That..probably hurts. You should probably give up before it gets any worse."

Ares has posed:
    'Rover' gives a low growl that ends in a grumpy chuff of exhalation as his teeth snap at the air. He turns, "I ain't sayin' anythin'." The wolfman looks back and forth at them, then back at the dog, then at the damn glass that wouldn't break. And the mystery of the bolt in Rover's arm is solved when from the second floor window a young kid of maybe ten with a blonde mop of hair leans out with a crossbow and takes aim again.
    "Don't move furball!" The kid shouts even as the Wolfman winces at the words, then at the ones that Tigra throws his way. "You know what," The furred felon growls, "I'm outta here!" That was enough for him as Rover turns and /breaks/ for it, running full tilt towards the fence and looking to leap over it.
    The kid tracks the path of the werewolf's flight with the bow, only to have his fire checked by John Aaron lifting his voice, "Let him go, Alexander."
    The kid grouses, "Aww man." Then there's a beat, "Who is that?"
    "This is Tigra, she is..." There's a pause as John looks at her askance and her holding Shrek at the ready to lash out with such fury. For a moment he smirks, then he says. "A friend."
    To which Alexander /rooollls/ his eyes and drops back out of view into the second floor window, but before he closes it they'll hear him shout, "Ugh!"

Tigra has posed:
Tigra scoffs at the /dog/ by retorting, "You already said enough. Besides, your breath smells like a cross between toilet water and your own ass." She's just saying that, right? Right? Soon after, the young boy's appearance is noted and as 'Rover' nopes on out of there just before she's swinging Shrek at him, she sets the stuffed toy down instead.

"All right, it looks like you've already taught him good aim." She sounds impressed by this, then a wave is offered up toward Alexander before he disappears from sight. "It's strictly professional! Sort of. Maybe we'll explain.." The window shuts. "..it later."

Ares has posed:
    "I apologize for his behaviour." Ares looks up towards the window, frowning a bit, but then he turns back to look at Tigra and adds. "He's decided to be rebellious lately." There's a pause, and then a smirk creeps into place upon his features. "I am proud of him."
    But then he moves forward, walking up the steps towards the back porch, climbing onto the deck that borders the back of the house. He gives a nod to the guard dog that for a moment wags its tail happily, eyes Tigra for a moment, then turns around and trots upstairs, most likely to keep an eye on Alexander for now.
    Now, with a moment of time, John Aaron gives Tigra a nod and murmurs, "I appreciate you being so forthright with me. If you had not given me this information, then chances are matters would have been much more uncomfortable for me and mine."

Tigra has posed:
"He's a kid. It comes with the territory. It was probably going to be that or him darting down here to attack the tail," Tigra points out, though she's also scouting out the immediate area along with sniffing at any blood 'Rover' may have left behind.

She adds, "I guess you're right about the Burls and losing, but they must not have got very far with anyone else. I've seen that guy around a few times and he's no investigator. I guess in the end it worked out for the best. I hate being played like that, though." She really hates it, if the aggressive lashing of that striped tail is a sign. "In fact, I have a little report to file with our mutual 'friend' right about now. I don't think you'll be getting bothered again about this any time soon once I'm through talking to him. Glad I could help though, indirectly or not."

Ares has posed:
    A nod is given and John Aaron furrows his brow as if a distant thought had settled upon him and was displeasing. But he steps past it, and listens to her, giving a nod at the last of her words. He takes a deep breath. "I will need to address the matter with them as well, if only to insure they take no further action." He rolls a shoulder through its range of motion and grimaces, as if restless. "I do not look forwards to such discussions."
    But then he focuses fully upon her. "In any case, I am in your debt. If you require aid in the future then I shall grant it." For a moment he considers leaving it at that, but then he takes a breath and lets it out slowly before he adds. "I do not grant such boons lightly. Value it, do not misuse it. If you call upon me to help you move your piano I'll be terribly annoyed."
    He does a good job of keeping a straight face.

Tigra has posed:
Nodding slowly, Tigra shows agreement to that idea. "Yes, I think you should. That ought to get him off your tail." Though..John/Ares is lacking one of those. The sentiment is enough. "It's one thing to try to go after you. Involving a kid goes well beyond any lines to cross."

Now told of this debt and some kind of boon - people still do that? - Tigra considers him thoughtfully then chooses to go in a light-hearted direction. "Good for you I don't have a piano, then." She may not yet know just how to call upon him if it gets to that point, but things like that tend to have a way of working themselves out at the right time.

Of course, Tigra also now knows this man is much more than simply John Aaron. "See you around," is her simple, final reply as she starts back toward the front of the property, and on her way back to the place she currently calls home. Once she's pinpointed exactly where she is, of course. And..probably a cab, as well. Carpeted floor of car much better than hard pavement.