A Sample Of His Wares...


cat_icon.gif elle3_icon.gif

Scene Title A Sample Of His Wares…
Synopsis … is sent to Cat along with details about the source.
Date October 6, 2010

The Rock Cellar

A comfortable place, located in the basement of 14 East 4th Street. The red brick walls are covered with memorabilia from various icons of rock and places in rock history, creating a feel similar to that of a Hard Rock Cafe.

The left wall has two bars separated by swinging doors which lead to and from the kitchen. Directly across from the entrance is a two foot high stage with all the equipment needed for acts to perform there. The right wall has three doors marked as restrooms: two for use by women and one by men.

Thirty square feet of open space for dancing and standing room is kept between the stage and the comfortable seating placed around tables which fill the remainder of the Cellar.

The lighting here is often kept dim for purposes of ambience, and when performers are onstage the place is loud enough to make conversation difficult. Just inside the door is a podium where location staff check IDs and stamp the hands of those under twenty-one with a substance visible under UV lights at the two bars and by devices the servers carry. On the podium's front is a sign with big black letters that just about explain it all: If You Don't Like Rock 'N' Roll, You're Too Late Now!

Lunchtime on a Wednesday finds Cat seated at one of her favorite places to eat, in fact already having consumed that meal, and occupying her time by reading information connected to business enterprises both connected and not connected to her name in the public eye. She's seated at her customary table, the one which sits in partial shadows along a wall and affords a decent view of the interior while remaining unobtrusive. A glass of cola rests near her right hand, she's casually clad in hooded sweatshirt and jeans, before her in addition to the reading material is an empty plate which used to hold a burger and fries.

Her iPhone goes off, it's the front desk of the Verb just upstairs, telling her someone has arrived to see her. Instructions are given to send the visitor here to the Cellar, and the exchange ends.

The little redhead that makes her way down the stairs is someone who certainly will not invoke Cat's superior memory; in fact, the face is completely new, thanks to Julius' crafting of her face. She glances around thoughtfully, her purse tucked securely over her shoulder as she peers about in search of Cat. It doesn't take her long to find the familiar woman, slowly making her way over to her table with a small wave. "Catherine Chesterfield?" She offers a small, disarming smile, fidgeting a bit. Thank god for the new face…she'd probably not be walking down here, otherwise.

Servers and bartenders move around busily, there's still a decent lunch crowd in the place. The sound system plays something from BOC as the red-haired Elle makes her way to where Cat is spotted. One of those employees is about to greet the electrokinetic and get ahead of the spiel about offering something to drink and bringing a menu, but is a few seconds late as the woman heads for the boss. She knows in due course Cat will beckon someone over if her presence is called for, otherwise she leaves them to their business.

The voice, which also doesn't register as one heard before, prompts Cat to look up and register the face. "That's me," she confirms, "you're Madison Cole?"

'Madison' offers a faint smile as she reaches the table and Cat speaks to her, nodding slowly. "Yes ma'am, I am Madison Cole." She slips into the seat across from Cat. "I, ah, was sent here to see you by Richard Cardinal." She reaches into her purse, quickly pulling out a business card. This is slid across the table to Cat. 'Julius Reinholdt', an artist. "He said you might be interested in this man."

Fingers settle on the business card and draw it close to her, just enough that she can read it, then they withdraw and leave it. Cat's seen it, has no more use for the item. "I'm sure I'll find the man intriguing, given Richard sending someone to drop his name. Do tell, Miss Cole, about Mister Reinholdt." Her features show a mild interest as a hand reaches for her cola glass.

Before lifting her drink to imbibe from it, the hostess hat kicks in. "Are you hungry or thirsty, Miss?" Eyes search out the nearest server, her intent being to beckon the woman over in support of Madison's desires.

"I'll have some lemonade, actually." 'Madison' takes the card back, placing it back in her purse once more. "Well, he's a rather interesting Evolved, who may be of use to you." The woman leans back, running a hand through her fiery red hair. "He's able to quite literally change a person's identity. Face, bone structure, eye color, hair color, body structure, skin tone…you name it, he can change it."

Elle tilts her head toward Cat thoughtfully. "He seems to also have a hunger related to his ability. He has a habit of kidnapping people and changing their appearances against their will." She frowns. "It is Richard's belief that he needs to be taken off the streets and taken care of…"

Her expression darkens slightly, turning down toard the table. "But none of us would like to see him taken in to the Institute…"

Silence is held as she listens, little given away in facial expressions on hearing the account of Mister Reinholdt's talents and hungers, save for a brow which lifts in a somewhat Spockesque fashion. "That is interesting," Cat allows, "very interesting. I would define taking care of him as seeing he's given access to people who want their faces altered, and keeping him as busy as possible. Does he," she wonders aloud, "alter a person's DNA in practicing this craft? Height, basic body shape?" Speculation occurs within her mind as she regards the disguised electrokinetic, watching for mannerisms which might dovetail with those of persons she's met under other appearances.

"Precisely." Elle leans back in her seat, running a finger over her lips. Possibly a normal mannerism, possibly because she's not used to having lips in that shape. "I think he enjoys it more when he chooses what people look like, rather than them telling him what to do. He apparently already does this for fees." She tilts her head toward Cat. "Richard and I figured that your…association…could make use of it."

She raises a hand to examine her fingernails for a moment, smiling faintly. "I'm not sure if it changes your DNA…but I do know, from speaking with him, that he even goes as far as changing fingerprints, and that his changes last roughly one month."

She seems about to speak, but holds it back, as a server approaches the table in response to Cat's beckoning. "My guest would like lemonade," Cat states. "Thank you, Karen." Perceiving 'Madison' only wants that, because Cat didn't say otherwise, she nods. "Right away, Cat." And she's off to the bar.

"It seems the man sees himself as a sculptor," Cat muses when the area is again free of ears which shouldn't hear this conversation, "one who works on contract and commission, but prefers to create his own art." Silence returns as she lifts and imbibes from the cola.

But it's soon broken when she lowers that vessel. "How long have you been one of Richard's associates, Miss Cole? I find it odd he didn't send someone I already know, or come himself. Perhaps that's the point in itself, sending someone altered by Mr. Reinhardt to tell me about him, providing both information and a sample of his wares in one move. If, of course, you're not someone who knows enough about me and Richard to play a confidence game."

'Madison' tilts her head toward Cat thoughtfully, her eyes briefly trailing after the waitress. Then, she turns to look at Cat, her brows raising. "I think you're correct. That's about the impression I recieved from him, at least."

As Cat questions her, the redhead smiles faintly. "You'd assume correctly, Miss Chesterfield. I haven't been working for Cardinal very long at all." She leans forward, resting her arms on the table. "I've recently…defected from a certain organization that nobody really likes." She steeples her fingers, peering quietly at Cat. "Cardinal saved my life."

"Doctor Chesterfield," she corrects with a dry chuckle, "if we're being formal. But Cat will do just as well. Congratulations on your successful escape." Silence again, as the server arrives with 'Madison's' lemonade and places it before her, then departs.

"Richard is a dynamic sort," she states. "Let us not speak of organizations such as what you escaped from for the moment, I find they put a sour taste in one's mouth, and it would be unfortunate if you can't enjoy your drink."

"I must agree, Cat." 'Madison' offers a warm smile, taking the lemonade and sipping at it. "In any case, I hope you will help with the issue of Julius. He did use his ability on me, I won't lie about that much. He's— he's not bad, I don't think. Aside from the kidnapping part, and changing me without my consent, he was…fairly nice, if not a bit silly for giving me his business card afterwards." She smirks, sipping more of the lemonade down.

Her eyes close, the head shakes. "A kidnapper who alters his captive and lets her go, after giving the woman his name. Not only do we need to keep this man busy, it seems we maybe need to teach him the value of discretion. Artists can be so eccentric…" Cat trails off.

Elle smiles faintly, her head bobbing in a small nod. "Possibly a good idea. However, I did have him at gunpoint, in a way." She promptly let him know that he really didn't want to mess with her by putting a nice scorch mark in his wall. "I think he had different plans for my release than what actually happened, so…" She shrugs, sipping at the lemonade.

The reply 'Madison' gives draws a quiet chuckle from the panmnesiac. "Hear, hear," Cat replies. She seems content to sit her and let the redhead quietly enjoy her lemonade before thanking her for coming and going about her day's affairs.

Which may well include a visit to a Redbird's lair for purposes of verification.

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