Cian (thebettingsort) wrote in emillion, @ 2014-04-27 18:18:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, !log, audrey leradine, cian wilde |
Who: Cian & Aud
What: Talking about financial matters
Where: Cian’s office
When: Today
Rating: PG-13-ish for language things
Status: Complete
They had an appointment. The damage in the poorer districts was significantly worse. The Nobles’ District had immediately been funded, but the Tenements felt as though it remained untouched. Had she worn a dress and nice shoes, it would have been significantly more difficult to get to Cian’s office through all the rubble. Arriving at the building, her hand came up to the door before she rapped three times. Fortunately, around here, the damage was mostly cosmetic. In a stroke of brilliant luck, Cian had found his office completely intact when he’d finally found the time to check on it -- and as Ash was temporarily sharing his living space, he found uses for the office rather often. Especially this: he’d rather stay out of the countess’ house if at all possible, considering there were rumors she was caring for a convalescing Spymaster. Yeah, no, fuck no. The knock, therefore, was expected, and having checked that the person on the other side of the door was none other than a particular ninja, he deactivated the security system and waved her in. “Coffee?” he offered. Business was business, after all. Unlike the street outside, the office was now impeccably neat, clearly fully restored from any destruction it had undergone. Cian walked around the desk, settled in his chair. “You said you had something for me?” he asked. Truth was, he had a notion -- the wedding had been called off, after all, or rather rescheduled to a more private venue. “Are congratulations in order, then?” Audrey had stepped through, sitting across from him at his desk. From her bag, she pulled a manila folder, sliding it across to him. “This is the account information. There’s still a lot more paperwork I’m sifting through. Stuff in my dad’s safety security box to still look at—assuming it’s still there. Need to dock five percent and transfer that over to Norwood, as well.” He chuckled. “All business, I see. Marriage got you suddenly money-minded?” He considered a moment before saying, “Not a bad change.” Better than the flailing and the occasionally ridiculous behavior. He hardly recognized the tiny of six months ago. Audrey had only managed to roll her eyes at him. Funny, how people changed when you weren’t paying attention. He took the folder, began to flip through it. Not badly invested, this trust, though a bit conservative. The number, while large, wasn’t a surprise anymore, having spoken with her about it in the past. “Congratulations indeed,” he mused, looking over it. “Looks like you’re one of the few, the proud, the people who profited from this clusterfuck. I’ll get… Norwood’s share sent over, tell him to get me an account number, unless he’s drinking away his sorrows somewhere. How much do you want to pocket?” he added. “Don’t take a lot,” he warned. “Figure out a living stipend -- you can be generous here -- and leave me with the rest, let me get you set up before you go off… buying schools or whatever it is you’re thinking. You got it?” “I don’t need a lot to survive, myself,” Audrey. “Most importantly is the house.” She had paused for a minute in thought. “How long until I could go help rebuild the city?” “Rebuild the -- what am I talking about, of course you fucking would.” He gave a pained sigh, shaking his head. “And here I was thinking you’d changed, tiny.” Though wasn’t he facing the same problem? He’d been pulling things out of various hidey-holes, too. He had to have a city if he was going to make any money. “All right,” he said, “I can give you a chunk, say maybe… fifteen. Twenty percent on the outside. Going to be a hit, you might have to live lean if it goes south. But I can guess where might be a good place to put the rest, hopefully grow you a cushion. No guarantees,” he cautioned, “but I can try.” “I’ve lived lean for more than half of my life. I should be fine,” she sighed, her eyes drifting back to the folder. “As long as the house and my sister are in check, what belongs to me doesn’t matter as much.” Frowning she fiddled with her hands on her lap. “What do you think will happen?” she mused off handedly. “To the city, I mean.” “It’ll get rebuilt,” he said with a shrug. “Limberry’s got enviable coffers, and whatever the fuck that woman wants, she doesn’t have it yet.” Which was a legitimate worry for another day. “Going to be a mess for awhile, then as things get put together, signs of the damage disappear, people will forget, go on. People will leave, others will take their place, figuring there are opportunities where there’s danger. So,” he finished, “same shit, different day. I think some of us’re too stubborn to leave, so we’ve got a fighting chance.” Audrey nodded along to his words, though she continued to look concerned. “Limberry’s presence here is troubling,” she mumbled, throwing her back into the chair. Crossing her legs, she watched his ceiling for a minute. “Hopefully they’ll at least give us time to rebuild before we have yet another monster rampaging through the city.” “Yeah,” he said, “there’s positive thinking. Not if, when.” He tapped his hand on the folder on the desk, said, “Cheerful, aren’t we, for a couple of people discussing a fucking fortune?” A crooked smile followed as he suggested, “Lighten up, tiny, we’re alive today. I’ll get this taken care of for you. Trust me.” Then, in case she needed confirmation, “When it comes to work, you can. The rest of that shit’s water under the bridge. Married woman that you are.” Audrey rolled her eyes, spunk finding itself back on her lips as she stood up. “Please, like I’d waste time on you again,” she mused. The blonde looked him up and down playfully, clearly teasing him. “There’s bigger fish to fry.” She stopped at the doorway for a moment, looking over her shoulder. “Thanks,” before she strolled on out, surprisingly in a better mood. |