London, Jon's Safehouse
Jon's flat was a humble little nook in the city. What used to look like a rotting old, abandoned flat furnished only with a single bed and a few cabinets packed with medical supplies and healing tools, was renovated nicely, and actually looked like a home. Furnished, though minimalist, not too cluttered in the open area. Sconces along the wall were dimly lit as far as they stretched in the foyer down the hallway and even up the stairs. The living room was dark and that lead into the kitchen and dining area on the first floor. Jon had a place at his base of operations but this apartment was established to be not only his house in town but had a room deeper into the house and up the stairs that was tailored for use of a healer. The ticking of the clock he'd bought from the antique shop (because one of his apprentices said they thought it suited his humble abode) rang out, each click and tick of the metronomical rhythm was enough to drive someone insane if they'd have been subjected to this in silence for hours, as he had.
The folded copy of The Guardian sat on the kitchen table beside a cup of tea that was still warm with its hands-free stirrer still swirling about. The liquid would have cooled if it were any other muggle cup, but if he ever got the chance to return to it, Jon knew the temperature would be just right. However, the warmth or cool temps of his tea was not his main concern. That spot was reserved for what he'd just read in the headlines of that muggle newspaper. [AGENCY BUILDING ATTACKED] Keywords to note: Terrorist...The Devil of Judgment... Traitor... What irked him even more was the information that was released from the Wizarding side with a similar headline. The name that struck him so hard he felt like he'd been hit by a bus: The Dark Lady. The face of the woman who killed Elana Lenor...The witch who nearly paralyzed him.
Cora. She was alive...and working with Matt, of all people?!
It boiled his blood. He took deep breaths and waited there. He wasn't needed at home...The safehouse, that is. Kara had thrown them all out, or rather, he excused himself, since he didn't want to deal with any more reprimands for what he believed was doing the right thing--but he was going to show her that he could do right by her. He could even do right by Jace, even though he knew any sort of bridge of kinship between them was miles and miles away. Jon came here with the intent of scouting the city for any activity that might lead him toward the dangerous substance that poisoned the Alpha garou. Even though Jaleth was tasked to most of that research, the professor was confined to the walls of the compound for now, unable to speak with anyone who wasn't Gabe's contact with the agency because the public was still under the impression that Lenor was dead.
For the most part, Jon was free to roam about, so he used that to his advantage. Being distracted by this aggravating news did waste a little bit of time, but he would get up again momentarily, and head out.