Splat!

Participants:

brennan_icon.gif chamberlain_icon.gif kendall_icon.gif raphael_icon.gif

Scene Title Splat!
Synopsis There's snowballs flying at noon and four men in New York of varying ages descend upon the financial distract for differing reasons and get pelted by two little girls.
Date January 11, 2010

Financial District - Small park


Splat
Splat
THUD

A myriad of snowballs fly through the air of the small park in the financial district across from tall buildings, not so tall buildings, doctors offices, small business's that cater to the local populace. Dryclearners even. And a small park that usually see's businessmen sitting, eating sandwiches at a hurried pace while talking on cellphones and wheeling and dealing through their hurried stolen moments.

Today it's the home of two small children, who are ganging up on a tall broad shouldered man in a winter jacket, doctor's coat peeking out from below as snowballs fly from behind a bench where the two brightly colored sprites are flinging their projectiles with squeals.

SPLAT
SPLAT

None are immune to being targeted since three year olds don't actuall have great aim. THe cold bitter weather does nothing to dissuade them from having fun with their father. Presumably the man cowering behind another bench, the stretch of pavement between them that brave souls can walk through while a young woman sits off at an adjacent bench, having her lunch and keeping an eye on things.

Kendall is out and about. Why? Because school doesn't start on a Monday this year, but a Tuesday. Go figure? Eh, he's not complaining, one more day of freedom. Which probably explains why he's outside despite the freezing cold weather. Soon enough he'll be shackled to a desk, so enjoy freedom while you can, right? Thus, he's in the perfect position to get smacked in the face by a snowball. "HEY!"

Michael Chamberlain is simultaneously taking a walk and eating a hot dog, despite the potential difficulties entailed in walking and eating at the same time. As such, his stride is at a casual, easy pace, his general mien inattentive with mild and internal distraction. Foil crinkles brightly under his hand as he chews, squeals and shouts drawing his attention. Beneath his winter hat, above his winter scarf, his mouth curves, touched with bland humor and something like schadenfreude.

Aloud, he ventures an observation, dry voice pitched to carry with the ease of a man used to being heard. "Common hazard, being a moving target." He has yet to be tagged with a snowball, but you know, it's only a matter of time. Despite the frigid chill of the air and the crispness of the snow that crunches under Michael's boots, there is no steam to mark his breath as he speaks.

Walking through the park wearing a long dark blue trench-coat with black suit pants under it and some expensive black boots, Leonardo Raphael Maxwell walks through the park, accompanied by one Cassius Potts. The so-called 'bodyguard' wears a simple leather jacket, wrinkled black suit pants, and scuffed up black boots.

"Here we go, snowballs." Leonardo says as one flies right for him. He catches it in a black leather gloved hand, and then another comes right after and smashes into his face. Spitting, he whispers to Cassius, "It wouldn't be very ethical to have children assassinated, would it?"

"Bad PR, boss." Cassius quickly answers with a snicker, then runs off ahead, throwing light snowballs in retalliation, which causes said boss to shake his head and sigh.

Kendall gets an apologetic look from Brennan as he's hit with a passing snowball by the arm of an errant girl child who only squeals and covers her mouth in fear that she might get in trouble for actually hitting someone other than her father. Chamberlains comments don't go unheard from his relative safety - no matter how temporary it may be. "They are vicious vicious creatures! Nothing moves too fast for them" Another snowball goes winging by Brennan's head when he pops up to peer over the top of the bench. "Gentlemen. Having a good day? Not too chilly for everyone I hope?" Certainly not for his brood. "I'm sorry, little kids, what can you do, they see snow and" He lifts his hands in apology to Kendall.

Which means he doesn't see the ones that hit Raphael or really give much heed to the scattering of the children away from their hiding spot when the man's bodyguard gets into it. The nanny does and is sitting up and paying attention to him.

The natural reaction to getting hit by a snowball, after the original exclamation, is to of course arm himself and retaliate. Kendall throws snowballs back at the kids, but since he's not that much beyond kid himself, they won't have the same velocity as the bodyguard. "Oh… it's a hazard in winter." he replies to Brennan.

"Bracing," Chamberlain says, crisply. His accent marks him plainly as a native New Yorker. He tucks one gloved hand deep in the corresponding pocket of his long, camel's hair coat. With the other, he continues to hold the bright-silver foil wrap of about half of a hot dog. In as much as it is possible for a lean, rangy lawyer of indeterminate middle age with a faint furrow lingering at his forehead to look chipper, Michael does so: at least, his mouth remains quirked up in a partial smile, and humor brightens his pale eyes as he glances with the arch of a look over all of these … you know, young people. Having fun. Doing young people things. My word.

Cassius starts rolling up a snowball from behind a tree, then yells, "Hey, Elf boy!" before jumping out and tossing it at Kendall's face.

Leonardo stops near Chamberlain and Brennan, groaning lightly in exasperation. "Next time, when I'm going to meet up with a sexy red-headed therapist, I'll remind myself to not have him escort me. How are you two doing?" he asks the two older men, holding out two business cards. Leonardo Raphael Maxwell, President of Maxwell Development Corporation. Numbers, emails, etc. Very high quality card! Christian Bale would be proud.

Brennan takes the business card, a passing glance for the face of the white card before it's slid into a pocket and likely to be tossed into the box of others that are passed to him on a daily basis. "That you need an escort" Brennan points out "To see a therapist," He shakes his head, offering his hand to chamberlain and to Raphael since the kids are now occupied with a bum rush to Kendall since Cassius is attacking with snowballs.

"Dr. Harve Brennan" He offers up with his handshake. 'Stealing a lunch time snowball fight with my girls before I have to see patients again"

Kendall bum rushes right back to the kids, leaping past them and likely getting pelted by more snowballs in the process. He glances over towards the old people after this, however, eavesdropping. But since they're not talking to him, being a /kid/ and all, he'll just stay quiet.

Michael's eyebrows lift once more, as he unearths his hand from the depths of his pocket — his other hand being quite occupied with the hot dog he still hasn't bothered to finish eating. He takes the card, gloved fingers sliding soft black over its small and rectangular surface. His eyebrows pinch together, not quite a frown; indeed, the look he tips toward Leonardo is mildly puzzled, but it is a good-natured, amused puzzlement. Avuncular puzzlement. "Doing well," he says. "I haven't got a business card handy, though. Michael Chamberlain, City Proscutor's Office."

There is still a hot dog in his right hand. Thus, Chamberlain does not offer a handshake to anybody, but rather a vaguely apologetic facial shrug, well contributed to by the bob of his eyebrows. His look rolls toward the girls, a flicker of something wistful reflected in his pale eyes before he looks away again, this time back toward Dr. Brennan. "How old?"

"Oh, she's not my therapist, I'm just going to see her." Leonardo leaves it at that, crossing his arms as he watches the others play in the snow. Cassius being one of the older people doesn't stop him from getting on his knees, starting to work on a pile of snowballs for the kids to throw at Kendall. "Fire on the Elf kid!"

"I can't say I've thought much about children myself, though it would be nice to have a successor I could be proud of one day." Leonardo smiles, nodding as the others introduce themselves. "Looks like a meeting of important people."

"Three, twins. I have a third but she's at school today" A look of pride on his face as he looks at the two who are chasing after Kendall still who gets an extremely apologetic look from the doctor for being subjected to two three year old terrors. Who wouldn't be getting that kind of look especially when one latches onto one ankle and proceeds to beg to be dragged across the snow. keep going, keep going.

"You look at them as successors?" Dark brows wrinkle as the short shorned man that is the doctor looks at Leonardo. "Shame to think of them as just sucessors. They're little people, in training and innocent to the world around them. They don't know about things beyond their front door or beyond their nose. They only know the sun rises, and that cartoons are on television on saturdays and how to use the perfect pouty lip to get chocolate pudding out of their dad when their mom says no. Successors?" He shakes his head. "Maybe when they're as old as us. City prosecutor" Chamberlain gets a second look but no recognition. "Must be up to your armpits in cases these days"

Kendall laughs as he's latched onto, and he limps his way across the ground. Meanwhile, he's still being hit by the other one. He actually limps over to Brennan. "I think I have something that belongs to you, sir." he remarks, looking down at the limpet.

"Chance," Chamberlain demurs. "I'm just on lunch. First appearance hearings in—" He lifts his hand, shaking back his sleeve to check his watch. He wrinkles his nose. "Well, a little while." He catches his lower lip in his teeth, a huff of breath past in a long, low hiss. "Mm. Case load's heavy, sure. Case load's always heavy in New York." He fails to remark on any excesses of crime, perhaps finding them politically sticky, but instead glances after the three-year-olds. "My son almost killed me, that age."

Michael's eyebrows lift as he looks down to the one hooked onto Kendall's leg, his smile pulling rue at his lips despite himself. "Children as legacy is hardly an uncommon sentiment," he says, his voice dropping quieter, more contemplative as he says so. Probably not thinking about successors to fortune, him — government salary just really is not that good.

"It's certainly how I was raised. Etiquette classes for as long as I can remember, taught how to handle myself in business situations through little lessons my father would teach me. Of course, my mother wanted me to be a lawyer." Leonardo shrugs, watching Kendall and the child with a curious look. "Though how I took the company from my father was not so much being his successor as it was years of planning corporate mutiny, but, what's one to do? Business is a game of chess."

"All in how your raised it seems" Never mind that he comes from a family of lawyers himself and bucked that trend. "Legacy yes, successor no. Two very different things in my mind. Speaking of legacy…" Kendall's dragging over a daughter and Brennan shakes head. 'Genevieve. Whatever shall I do with you. Apologize to the young man. For the snowball to the face at least"

"You have a son?" He inquires, curious about the look that Chamberlain gives at the mention of his own kid nearly killing him at this age while he himself leans over to scoop up the dark haired girl from around Kendall's leg and thank him for bringing her over.

Once freed, Kendall backs away from the adults. "It's fine. She's got a strong arm, she should play softball when she's older, she'd be killer on the pitcher's mound or whatever they call it in softball."

"I always thought chess was a violent kind of a game," Michael remarks in a tone of casual observation, glancing at Leonardo with only a marginal lift of his thick, expressive eyebrows. Bland interest reflects in his pale eyes, the breath puffed past his nose wholly invisible and steamless despite the frigid chill on the air. He turns, slightly, on his heel, as he glances back at Brennan again. "Ah … yeah. Just the one." Discomfort settles over Chamberlain like a mantle, and he looks toward Kendall for the readiness of his distraction. "You play ball yourself?" he asks. It's almost like there's a 'kiddo' hovering on the edges of awareness, but he doesn't actually say it.

"The king never gets his hands dirty." Leonardo is quick to point out, though hangs back as he watches Chamberlain with Kendall.

Cassius brushes himself off, walking up, moving his head to the side to crack his neck. "I'll go tell Bella you'll be late, if you're gonna hang around with these guys."

"Buy her a nice coat, something green, and classy." Leonardo pauses, giving that a second thought. "Green, classy, and I want you to tell this to the person working in the store. Nothing under five hundred dollars either." Cassius gives a casual salute, then is on his way down the path.

Reading between the lines is easy. There's something there, maybe loss, maybe something else with regards to the prosecutor's son. Brennan delves away from the topic to something else out of respect, manipulating Genevieve while his other daughter has hie'd off to the nanny. That being, Leonardo flaunting his wealth with no small amount of discretion. Which just raises his brows. "I should get the girls inside before they catch a cold. We're so spoiled by their mother and the warmth" Brennan digs into his wallet, producing a five and passing it over to Kendall. "Hit up Starbucks, get yourself something hot to drink. It's cold out here and they can't have done you any favors by hitting you with snow"

"Thanks!" hey, if he got paid for being attacked by little kids, he'd let it happen more often. Kendall quickly pockets the cash. "Kendall Cunningham, nice to meet you." he introduces, then moves off. Maybe he's going to go do as suggested?

Frown knitting his brow, Chamberlain glances around at the snowbound city as if with new eyes. He lifts his by now cold hot dog and takes a large bite of it, foil crinkling as he chews and lowers the thing. Once he swallows, he says, "Nice meeting you and your girls, Doc." He resettles his weight on his heels, tucking the business card in his pocket and then tugging at the fall of his long camel's hair coat. His coat, an elegant sartorial investment, might have cost more than $500, but… "Nice present," he says to Leonardo with a tone of light irony.

"I'll see you all around, then. Enjoy the rest of your day." Leonardo nods, then heads into the direction of Cassius with his hands in his pockets. "And you can't spare any expense for a beautiful woman!" he yells without looking back, laughing.

"Nice to meet you too" Brennan offers, a dip of his head to the prosecutor and to Leonardo before he heads towards the nanny and his other daughter. Time to brush off clothes and head across the way to the medical building. back to work for him and back to home for the girls.


Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License