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Description
*Jacques continued to crawl, albeit slowly due to his ruptured Achilles tendon, trying desperately to get to the alarm button at his desk. But the two shadows on on the floor before him never lost step...walking after him, never needing to speed their pace to be on his heels...*

With a *WHIP* of blood on the wall Neo the assassin splashed red all over his book case to flick it off, and then used her sleeve to wipe off the rest.

“Very good Ms. Politan...." cooed the now horrifying and familiar voice of Whitley, his son, as if he was complementing a boarding school friend on their suma. "But....wouldn't those wounds be much too clean for an animal like a White Fang Assassin or Zealot. Not to critique your work..." he added politely.

Neo looked from him to his father rhything away from them like a fish before finishing cleaning her blade, then nodded. He had a point.

Whitley went on, "So just a few more, shall we say, jagged, marks on him I think really should do.” Neo nodded expressively once, in an "aye aye captain" way with a petite grin on her face.

Jacques finally belted out what was roaring through his mind in pain, and confusion, and outrage, and fear, from the pit of his heaving chest:"Whitley! Why in the gods names...are you doing this!?!"

Whitey simply smiled the way he did whenever he got an business answer right that made his father beam, usually from seeing the big picture more than he'd expected for his age.

"Father...for the Schnee Dust Company of course. For business..." he put his hand up to hold Neo's blade off as he walked around him to finish his sentence.

"When the media that you so conveniently acquired to shape mass opinion on the treatment of Faunus workers....gets wind that a horrid, beastial, White Fang Extremist, broke in here to slay the father of the SDC...leaving a widowed and orphaned family....they're going to rally behind the executive decision to jump on what you always said was the largest grossing money maker.....War."

Jacques spat blood with tears of confusion and anger streaming down:"Stupid boy! What have you done! You're going to ruin us, you're supplanting me only to-"

Whitley interrupted him, loudly, but not shouting, just cutting him off, "NO. I'm outdoing you. I'm about to become the youngest, smartest, and most powerful president the Schnee Dust Company has ever seen...See stupid was not doing what was necessary, and losing sight of winning. Stupid was wanting to keep trade going in nations, knowing that the White Fang could just steal our munitions to make more conflict to generate more profit....and, just stopping there."

Neo kicked Jacques office door shut with her foot before prancing over to his desk like a little girl skipping, and dug into Jacques tub of expensive Vacuo cigars.

Whitley:"No more middle room...no more "steady balance." The White Fang's grown too bold recently and can't be contained for profit anymore...the occasional train bombing and factory depot and all the convenient deaths to outrage the public won't satisfy them any longer, so we're MAKING them turn a profit."

Neo tossed Whitley a cigar, he bowed to her and sat in Jacques chair, tapping his fingers over the very panic button Jacuqes had been trying to get to.

Whitley:"By engaging them in a war where we own a majority of the resources and armaments.....a war where the nations of the world now conveniently hate the White Fang now that they've hit Beacon, and eventually Mistral....as a little Birdie named Watts informs me..."

Jacques:"Arthur Watts is in on this?! I should've known, turning my own son against me- *Coughing violently against the pain* "

Whitley:"Oh father..." -with a condescending but sympathetic tone- "I did this on my own...Watts is simply a School Professor from Mantle who knows technology's, and has connections. He admires my prowess, and more than that the value of not holding me back. See when the dust settles....when the world hates Faunus as much as we do...we'll have all of their resource, and all of their prisoners of war and kind as the work force we need to pathe the way to a future where Atlas is on top again, like you always said we should've had before the "Great King and his great sword" spoiled it all.....only this time a jocked up fairy tail in'st going to stop us."

Jacques almost whimpered:"W-whitley I know i've pushed you, and your sisters....b-bu-"

Whitley:"You misunderstand me father, I don't regret a bit of it...and my sisters not handling it, or even not doing this sooner is their mistake. Just rest assured father, the SDC is in good hands..."

-he pushed the panic button and yelled into the speaker-

"Someone help us! There's a masked Assassin in our office-!!!!" before cutting himself off taking his finger off before Jacques could yell himself.

Neo just winked down at Jacques, re-raising her blade...

Jacques:"Wait- WAIT!"

Description
*Jacques continued to crawl, albeit slowly due to his ruptured Achilles tendon, trying desperately to get to the alarm button at his desk. But the two shadows on on the floor before him never lost step...walking after him, never needing to speed their pace to be on his heels...*

With a *WHIP* of blood on the wall Neo the assassin splashed red all over his book case to flick it off, and then used her sleeve to wipe off the rest.

“Very good Ms. Politan...." cooed the now horrifying and familiar voice of Whitley, his son, as if he was complementing a boarding school friend on their suma. "But....wouldn't those wounds be much too clean for an animal like a White Fang Assassin or Zealot. Not to critique your work..." he added politely.

Neo looked from him to his father rhything away from them like a fish before finishing cleaning her blade, then nodded. He had a point.

Whitley went on, "So just a few more, shall we say, jagged, marks on him I think really should do.” Neo nodded expressively once, in an "aye aye captain" way with a petite grin on her face.

Jacques finally belted out what was roaring through his mind in pain, and confusion, and outrage, and fear, from the pit of his heaving chest:"Whitley! Why in the gods names...are you doing this!?!"

Whitey simply smiled the way he did whenever he got an business answer right that made his father beam, usually from seeing the big picture more than he'd expected for his age.

"Father...for the Schnee Dust Company of course. For business..." he put his hand up to hold Neo's blade off as he walked around him to finish his sentence.

"When the media that you so conveniently acquired to shape mass opinion on the treatment of Faunus workers....gets wind that a horrid, beastial, White Fang Extremist, broke in here to slay the father of the SDC...leaving a widowed and orphaned family....they're going to rally behind the executive decision to jump on what you always said was the largest grossing money maker.....War."

Jacques spat blood with tears of confusion and anger streaming down:"Stupid boy! What have you done! You're going to ruin us, you're supplanting me only to-"

Whitley interrupted him, loudly, but not shouting, just cutting him off, "NO. I'm outdoing you. I'm about to become the youngest, smartest, and most powerful president the Schnee Dust Company has ever seen...See stupid was not doing what was necessary, and losing sight of winning. Stupid was wanting to keep trade going in nations, knowing that the White Fang could just steal our munitions to make more conflict to generate more profit....and, just stopping there."

Neo kicked Jacques office door shut with her foot before prancing over to his desk like a little girl skipping, and dug into Jacques tub of expensive Vacuo cigars.

Whitley:"No more middle room...no more "steady balance." The White Fang's grown too bold recently and can't be contained for profit anymore...the occasional train bombing and factory depot and all the convenient deaths to outrage the public won't satisfy them any longer, so we're MAKING them turn a profit."

Neo tossed Whitley a cigar, he bowed to her and sat in Jacques chair, tapping his fingers over the very panic button Jacuqes had been trying to get to.

Whitley:"By engaging them in a war where we own a majority of the resources and armaments.....a war where the nations of the world now conveniently hate the White Fang now that they've hit Beacon, and eventually Mistral....as a little Birdie named Watts informs me..."

Jacques:"Arthur Watts is in on this?! I should've known, turning my own son against me- *Coughing violently against the pain* "

Whitley:"Oh father..." -with a condescending but sympathetic tone- "I did this on my own...Watts is simply a School Professor from Mantle who knows technology's, and has connections. He admires my prowess, and more than that the value of not holding me back. See when the dust settles....when the world hates Faunus as much as we do...we'll have all of their resource, and all of their prisoners of war and kind as the work force we need to pathe the way to a future where Atlas is on top again, like you always said we should've had before the "Great King and his great sword" spoiled it all.....only this time a jocked up fairy tail in'st going to stop us."

Jacques almost whimpered:"W-whitley I know i've pushed you, and your sisters....b-bu-"

Whitley:"You misunderstand me father, I don't regret a bit of it...and my sisters not handling it, or even not doing this sooner is their mistake. Just rest assured father, the SDC is in good hands..."

-he pushed the panic button and yelled into the speaker-

"Someone help us! There's a masked Assassin in our office-!!!!" before cutting himself off taking his finger off before Jacques could yell himself.

Neo just winked down at Jacques, re-raising her blade...

Jacques:"Wait- WAIT!"