Jonathon never was one for the publicity his title received, and instead chose to live as conversative of a life as possible. He detested the papparazi, as well as the flair that adorned his appearances in public. They wouldn't happen if it weren't for his advisor, a mustached man that had one served his father before him. He had insisted on such things to withold his appearance to the public. The truth was; He hated. He hated the money, hated the hoity-toity attitude of his 'collegues' and hated the attention. He had never wanted to follow suit in his father's endeavors, but it was all willed to him and, in turn, forced down his throat. Yet, he was still ever the philanthropist, only anonymously. He enjoyed donating large sums to causes that actually stood to better things. He just chose to remain unnamed as a benefactor. On this particular early afternoon, he was informed of a type of 'commotion' in the Town Square of Wing City. He chose to scope it out, however, on his own, to maintain subtlety. He wasn't going to be able to covertly get any information if he had pulled up in a flashy limo.
No. Instead, here he was on foot, wearing a suit much cheaper than any of his actual ones, and a cigarette hanging loosely out of the corner of his mouth. He wore sunglasses to both better conceal his face and keep the sun above him out of his eyes. The heat was far from sweltering, but he still found himself reaching up and loosening his tie considerably as he approaced the booth he had be told about. It was more populated that he had initially imagined it to be, much to his chagrin. Just more introductions that he would have to suffer through. Still, the purpose of the booth, a founding of a neighborhood watch, interested him and it might prove to be something that would siphon more money out of his pockets. He threw his cigarette to the pavement below him and snubbed it with his heel before plunging himself into the crowd, eyes scanning for whomever might be heading the booth.
The one person who wasn't any kind of busy at the booth was dressed in a white shirt and a grey pencil skirt, like a proper office woman, though the red bowtie was a bit old fashioned. Her hair was short, slicked back, and she was wearing a thin pair of glasses, golden rimmed. Her nametag said Ariel Moore.
What most people didn't realize was that this was a gettup, and that Ariel was one of Giles' bodyguards. Though Delta wasn't wearing any sort of armor, Moore's was cleverly hidden with the chameleon setting on her skin suit and visor. She scanned rooftops for any sign of life, or rather, any sign of a potential sniper.
It was she who approached Jonathon, holding out a flyer to him. "Hello, my name is Ariel Moore. Might you be interested in the Wing City neighborhood watch? Supported by Giles Fabron and Julian Harris."
Jonathon cast a glance up and down the woman that had approached him once before sighing and running a hand through his disheveled hair. He then lowered the hand to grab the flyer from the woman's outstretched hand and held it at a distance in front of his face to read idly. "I suppose I might be, Ms.?" he responded, using his free hand to take off his sunglasses, fold in the temple, and place them in the inner pocket of his suit jacket.
"Moore," the woman repeated. "Ariel Moore. You are?"
Jonathon blinked, only once, before turning his eyes to the nametag pinned to her front as his mind processed that she had already verbally introduced herself to him as well. This was the effect being in public had on him, even when he wasn't being recognized. He awkwardly rubbed at the back of his head before letting his hand flop lazily to his side.
"Riiiiiiight. Ms. Moore. Right. I'm Jonathon Lectre."
Ariel popped an eyebrow. "It's good to meet you, as well. Well, if you're interested, that'll be just great. Have you been part of a Watch before?"
He paused a moment after hearing her question to watch her, waiting for any spark of recognition to light up her face. He saw none, and for this, he was grateful. He visibly relaxed at the lack of indication and held out his hand for her to shake. "Right, nice to meet you. And no, I haven't. My father was, once upon a time, but that was when I still just a kid."
She slipped her hand into his, grip firm, but not crushing, as she shook. "I see. Well, you've got a chance here to give to the community with nothing but honest participation. Wing City is littered with crime. I'm sure you've realized. Most of that crime goes unreported. There have been murders in broad daylight that took a crowd hours to take action against. By that time, it's far too late. In an effort to stop this, we are initiating this watch to stimulate awareness and action. How does that sound to you?"