Participants:
| Scene Title | Bohemian Meltdown |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Marlowe and Kay want a few words with Godfrey over losing Yamagato's tech in Japan. |
| Date | November 24, 2019 |
Godfrey's Apartment - Cresting Wave Apartments
There was something so calming about being at the piano for Godfrey, the feel of the keys under his fingers and the sound of the hammers hitting the strings, producing the loveliest sounds. When he was particularly stressed or even just while he is thinking, he found it particularly refreshing to sit and let his fingers do as they will.
Which at the moment was a sweeping solo of Bohemian Rhapsody.
His eyes are closed, listening to each note, as the music echoes beautifully in the rather posh apartment he occupied at Yamagato. He was lucky that his neighbors didn’t complain too much. Only the truly late night sessions, when entertaining or he just needed it.
A tumbler of scotch is perched within easy reach, so when he has a spare hand to steal a sip. When he comes back to the present, Godfrey offers the phone, propped up next to the sheet music, a smug smile as he continues to play. He might be showing off just a bit for the person on the other end, too.
“So you’re in, yeah?” Godfrey comments without missing a beat or note. This was clearly a favorite of his to play as his fingers continued to find each key without him looking. “I rather like being on Ms. Nakamura’s good side.”
More Godfrey means that he likes his life, his money, and his apartment. Not to mention his reputation with the less savory types. He’d like to keep it all.
“Could help your situation as well,” Godfrey adds as if trying to sweeten the pot, to secure the help he needs.
A half-interested note comes from the receiver, the other end of the line perhaps only half-listening given the music. As much as Godfrey carrying about his day while FaceTiming usually helped Asi feel there, music tends to drive her focus. And the focus, well…
“Given what I’ve been up to lately, I’m really not sure that’s possible,” she remarks, only half-visible while she types away at her computer. It’s perpetually dark wherever she is, only the glow of the screens around her lighting up her hacker’s hideaway. Asi pauses in her typing to glance sidelong back at Godfrey’s smiling image, noting the mischief in his eye.
She narrows her own. “But it could be fun.” she admits grudgingly, her head tilting toward her shoulder while she thinks, leaning back in her chair. “So there’s that, even if it doesn’t earn me a turned eye from Yamagato.”
Asi lets her head hit the headrest on her seat, peering up at the ceiling. In a nearly deadpan tone, she chimes along, “So carry on, carry on…” before lapsing back into silence while he plays.
The acoustics of a multimillion dollar apartment designed by top architectural engineers is quite telling. If the neighbors complained, sure there would have been changes. But thus far Godfrey Wells has avoided any direct comments about his play at whatever ungodly hour he so chose since his arrival. Yes, the acoustics are very nice and pristine reflective surfaces cast the slightest nuances on to ears trained for them.
Which is why he can hear it when what sounds like a mixture of popcorn kernels popping in a microwave and a zipper very loudly unzipping come echoing down the way. Even Asi’s mic picks up the noise, garbled though it may sound via noise-cancellation technologies. The other thing is the sight at the source of it - his front door, sparking with bluish white fits and miniature bolts of lightning travel up and down the center of the door before it splits and blossoms inward in a cacophony of creaks and what appears to be a fluid shattering of its materials.
In a way, the door opens on its own. Standing at the other side of the threshold, hand placed on one edge of the gaping hole she’s deliberately made in the door instead of knocking or ringing the digital doorbell, Marlowe Terrell is something of a terrifying sight. Her golden irises stare into the apartment with a searching sweep, gravitating to where the man she’s hunting for sits at the piano.
She steps through the hole in the door, heels clacking on tile. She looks like she’s dressed for a business meeting or just come from one, solid suit and slacks, natural wiry hair pulled up out of the way for the moment. A moment which, if her tightly pursed, painted lips and furrow browed expression were enough to judge, is one of ill temper.
“Whoever he or she is, tell them to go, we’re going to have a talk,” Marlowe announces as abruptly as her entrance.
“Ah, but your newfound status could be useful in your search for—-”
Whatever else Godfrey might have said is interrupted by Marlowe’s dramatic entrance into his home. Asi sees him turn to look behind him, giving the technopath a partial view of the display. Brows lift high on his head as she simply steps through the melted door.
“Hell hath no fury…” he says under his breath, only loud enough for Asi to hear.
It takes him a moment, but Godfrey recovers. Taking a deep breath, he turns back to the keys with a nervous tug at his vest. “Ah… Marlowe! I take it you’ve heard then?” he calmly asks as he starts up playing again, fingers moving smoothly over the keys. “I must admit, I expected you long before now.” The words are a bit flippant, filled with a calm, but Asi can still see the edge of worry. A hint of the terror he’s feeling. “Please, do make yourself at home. A drink maybe?”
Taking a moment to sip his scotch, Godfrey adds, “And don’t be rude, luv, say hello to Asi.” It seems that despite the technopath’s fugitive status, the two were in communication still.
The noises jolt Asi upright in her seat, the screen blackening while she waits to see who's come to assault Godfrey. It being Marlowe comes as a shock, one that leaves her without words. She remains on Audio only.
All the better to hide her expression as she watches what's going on. Though Godfrey not seeing the hard side eye he gets for his comment and behavior is lamentable, the additional distance between whatever is about to unfold between the two is welcomed.
Marlowe had made it clear through months of unanswered messages and calls gone to voicemail she didn't want anything to do with Asi. It's a distance she tries to respect now by keeping silent, only observing from the little camera lens on the phone propped against the music stand— much like someone would awkwardly keep to themselves if they were there in the flesh.
Marlowe will very much make herself at home. Does Godfrey know how it was like in her home back when? Dramatic arguments and all? Probably not, but he's about to. With purposeful strides and golden irises fading back to their normal brown (although no less filled with annoyed anger), she closes the distance from the front door to the piano, coming fully into view of the phone camera lens.
"I've been busy," she comments flatly on her lack of appearances until now, "being drugged and kidnapped, rebuilding an island, you know, the usual." Her gaze flicks to the wet bar briefly but then returns to Godfrey once he mentions the technopath. Impeccable brows lift up. Her first instinct is of course to look around for a physical form of said technopath. When it's obvious Asi's not there, that's when the search shifts and she finds the blackened screen of the phone. Through a single blink, Marlowe conveys a lot - confusion, hurt, anger, betrayal.
"Ohisashiburi, Tetsuyama-san." The chilled polite distance of her greeting is clear, even for Godfrey.
What with the door not really able to drown out noise from the hall, there’s little to mask the approach of another visitor to Godfrey’s abode. There’s the soft sound of the elevator arriving on the floor, and heels clicking smartly on polished floors. There’s also the heavily southern-accented Jesus Christ that serves to announce the arrival of Director Damaris.
One hand resting against her hip, angled slightly back, Kay steps through the remains of the door, eyes wide as they sweep down and up to take in the scene. “Marlowe?” That at least explains some of the mess. Her gaze drifts from the chief of technology to the business liaison, then to the phone and back the others physically present. “Is this a bad time?”
The music pauses again so that Godfrey can give Marlowe his full attention. Turning again to look behind him. “Kidnapped?” The inquiry is surprisingly calm for such news. “This is the first time I have even heard of this.” The accusation is thrown at the fiery woman. He almost sounds insulted. Dark eyes watch Marlowe’s movements with vague interest and maybe some concern at what more she might melt. In fact, he plans to ask her to not and maybe about the kidnapping, but there is that elevator ding and subsequent the arrival of Kay.
“Ah! Kaydence.” Godfrey brightens yet again. “Come, come. You are just in time, luv. In fact, you saved me from tracking you down. Please join us and don’t forget to say hello to Asi. She and I were just discussing her situation before the goddess of destruction descended upon us.” It wasn’t completely honest, but they didn’t need to know that…yet.
The business liaison motions Kay to the wet bar, which is always well stocked. “In fact, Marlowe here was just about to tell us what possessed her to melt my door.”
Shifting on the piano bench, Godfrey looks at Marlowe expectantly, crossing legs and folding his hands where they can hook over his knee. “Though I suspect I know why. Yamagato is quite the cesspool of rumors I have found.”
The screen stays black, even if the person behind the curtain is definitely not at rest. Marlowe's shots across the bow incite worry, more so than her dramatic entrance, or even her cold attitude. The proverbial slate of what Asi was working on is wiped clean, a new, fevered search taking its place.
Godfrey wasn't the only one taken off-guard at the mention of a kidnapping. And what her search reveals isn't helpful, either. Only one odd record that could coincide with the event Marlowe was talking about… but not (that she could see) police reports, or a single news article. In the midst of her search, or perhaps her general desire to be as inobstrustive as possible given she's not actually there, Asi keeps her silence.
Except for one thing her conscience won't let her get by without: "Marlowe, buji desu ka?" the phone projects.
Marlowe twists a fuming look over shoulder at Kay's arrival, but the question about it being a "bad time" gets fielded by Godfrey first. Better that way, as it gives her a better chance to compose herself from the initial surge of her storming in. There's a lot going on inside the so-titled goddess of destruction, but where she normally may have immediately fired back a sassy remark before, she doesn't appear to be toying with those options at present.
"Marlowe tte…" she starts in response to Asi's inquiry after her wellbeing, chin lifting at the black screen of the phone device. But almost as soon as her reply to Asi starts, she heads it off and redirects. "I'm not here to talk about me," continues the tech director with a stiff rolling back of her shoulders, purposefully trying to push away those thoughts. She'll get to it later maybe.
"I'm here about the Cestus-II." Her naming of the subject at hand (pun unintended) couldn't sound more bitter. "Records show it has not been returned as scheduled, and the automated tracker disabled. It was last signed off for to be placed in your hands, and accompanied you to Japan." Kay almost certainly has also heard the rumored existence of the updated prosthetic limb - the original design prototyped by co-designer Marlowe, and then aimed and directed at targets by Kay herself - had been made and sold. And now with Marlowe's presence, it would appear the rumors floating through the photoreactive air in Yamagato are true at least in part. But the all important question climbs out slowly as she pins Godfrey with an accusatory stare and tone. "Where is it?"
The hand at her hip eases away slowly as Kay lifts her chin slightly as understanding of the situation comes to her. “Ah,” she intones flatly. “Well, that’s one mystery solved.” Chiefly the source of Marlowe’s anger.
Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Kaydence casually makes her way to the bar and sets about fixing herself a drink. Something tells her she’s going to need it. “Asi, long time no see,” she greets, casual as can be. “Still can’t see ya,” she quips further as she drops ice into her glass.
Amber liquid splashes against crystal, ice crackling softly. “I’d like to know the answer to Ms Terrel’s question myself, actually.” Damaris looks up from her work and lifts a brow to Godfrey for a second or two, then turns her attention back to her glass. There must be some perfectly reasonable explanation that will clear this whole thing up and then they can put in the requisition to fix his door and everyone will be able to sleep soundly tonight.
Right.
“Haven't a clue,” Godfrey supplies.
It is mostly said in that aggravatingly conversational tone of his, but there is an edge of frustration. “And I assure you, Ms. Nakamura has already given me quite the dressing down and docked my pay severely for my….” They get to see a flicker of irritation, before he turns back the piano keys, “miscalculation.”
It really irritated him to be out that much cash for a mechanical arm, he will now be paying for through the rest of his life.
How would he live on what was left?
(Spoiler alert: He’ll be just fine.)
As fingers press into the piano keys, the melody isn't quite recognizable, yet. But it is haunting, with deep notes. “Did any of this information tell you why she sent me to Japan?” He’s curious to see how close the chest Kimiko played it. The melody slowly evolving into Moonlight Sonata.
“And if I do tell you, both of you,” He heard you Kaydence, “I would appreciate you not storming into the boss’ office,” Godfrey says in a flat tone. He’s heard the rumors Marlowe… Glancing up from his fingers to the blacked out phone. A warning really to not supply that information either. Asi knows after all. “It’s not widely known information; so she’ll know who told you and I do so enjoy living. I’ve seen the condition she leaves those that piss her off.” He remembers Kam’s dismembered body. “And I can’t do anything about getting it back when I’m dead, now can I?”
Asi sighs finally at the dramatics of it all, eyelids flickering in an attempt at patience. Her fingers hover over the option to re-engage the video briefly before opting not to after all. She sees little chance it'll somehow make the conversation go any smoother.
"Sagashite oru wa, Tekku-cho." she promises, properly cowed away from familiarity thanks to Marlowe's cold snap. The tech director's continued distance earns her what Godfrey hadn't— a promise to assist. Maybe getting back into Kimiko Nakamura's good graces might not be a priority for her, but salvaging her relationship with Marlowe…
Asi missed her friend. Poorly-timed phone calls and all.
As if in late reaction to realization of Kay's presence and purpose for being there, Marlowe folds her arms across her chest, huffs, and quietly watches the woman pour her drink with a small amount of desire for one herself. It's a decent distraction to the irritating tone of Godfrey's response. She squints back at him as if trying to pierce through the business liaison's devil-may-care facade, and the news he shares of the outcome of his meeting with Kimiko smoothes only some ruffled feathers.
Some.
The polite language spoken earns the black screen at least a regarding look where Marlowe had been pointedly avoiding it from when she'd stepped in. Then her gaze drops to her reflection in the piano. A few more seconds of silence tick by before she states for all in the room, "I know enough. Monica came to see me." Although the contents of their conversation go unrevealed, she adds, eyes lifting back up and sweeping to each face (or screen as it were), "But more importantly… I want that arm back. That technology, it does not belong in the dirty hands of someone who doesn't know what they're doing. Or worse, in someone's hands who does."
Arms uncross and she puts a hand on the piano's shiny surface, not to start a destructive use of her power upon it, but for support. “And if I have to get it myself, I will.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Kay assures Marlowe. Resting her hip against the bar, she folds her arms over her midsection, her drink held in one hand, head tilting to one side as she regards Godfrey, as if she might discern what he’s holding back.
It’s Yamagato. Everyone in this room is hiding something from everyone else.
“If I have to go boots on the ground myself, we’ll get that tech back.” It’s been too long since she’s been out in the field herself. Admittedly, that’s because she’s well aware of how absolutely outmatched she is by their enemy. Monica was capable. Kay’s role is support, but she remembers a time when it wasn’t so.
Taking a sip from the tumbler held loosely in her fingers, Damaris takes a moment to savor the taste - Godfrey only stocks the best, after all - before leveling her gaze back on the man once more. “My job is to clean up messes without involvin’ the boss.” Lifting her brows, her expression entreats him to share the gory details.
“On that, luvs, I agree.” Godfrey says, finally pulling the cover down over the keys. “I don’t take well to having things snatched from under m’ nose.” Turning, he slaps hands on his knees and stands. “I do have a reputation to uphold after all. Last thing I need is people thinking I’m easy.” He gives Kay a twitch of brows as he brushes past for the bar.
The phone with Asi is left where it is, a good spot. Godfrey watches the amber liquid fill the glass, while he gives them something to ponder, “Ever wonder why she even assigned me to do that? Take the arm to Monica in Japan? A task that would surely catch the eye of criminals?” As far as anyone knew he was simply a businessman.
Turning to Kay, Godfrey offers, “The ‘boss’ played our Monica dirty and used her as bait to lure out Adam. When that didn’t work; I was sent with the arm, to give her the ‘good’ news that it was all a ruse, and bring her home.”
However, he doesn’t wait for the others to say anything, turning to lean against the counter, one foot hooked over the other. “And who better to sneak something like that into another country unseen? Why a former criminal, of course.” Godfrey lifts his glass to salute the others before taking a deep drink, he was going to need it tonight. “Not quite sure how she knew, but she did and what I was capable of doing to ensure the mission get done.”
And now they know his dirty little secret… well, one of them.
“I don’t know for sure who took the arm, but I plan to get it back, at all cost,” Godfrey continues on nonchalantly, like he didn’t just drop a bomb that could implicate him in its disappearance. There is a dangerous glint in the british man’s eye. “Losing it makes me look weak to m’ old enemies and, of course, m’ reputation. I walked away from the old life, I don’t need it hauntin’ me.”
Godfrey points at the phone, glass in hand. “So, I called her in, to help me find them and punish them for daring to steal from me..” He leaves it up to the technopath to explain what he asked of her.
There’s an audible intake of breath as Asi contemplates interrupting Godfrey to answer some of his wonderings out loud, but she waits for him to finish, surprised he gestures in her direction as though she were actually there. Who needed work on holographic projections and realistic androids when apparently a simple lens on a screen could command respect when needed?
“While we’ve been talking, I’ve already started digging for it. Black market channels, Dark Web information … I’m not coming up with anything so far, but I’ve only just started. So far, I’m thinking this points to deliberate espionage, though. With your shadow war with Praxis, I’m not unsurprised, but I need a short time to dig into what proxy they used to obtain the arm. Once I know that, I can …”
A brief pause elapses as she gets caught up in reading the screen before:
“I can find out the associates most likely to have it.”
Another beat.
“Recovering it, though…” Asi muses, not having an immediate answer for that.
Marlowe had been reflecting upon her complexion in the sheen of the piano's glossy surface. But as Kay mentions her job duties not involving the boss, the woman sweeps her glance up and stares warily at the PR Director. Messes. Indeed. Discretion dictates she doesn't inquire further at present, however. But no doubt, Kay's seen the flicker of fear in Marlowe's regard towards her.
Moreso when Godfrey speaks on his reasons behind his actions. Our Monica gets the furrowing on Marlowe's brow to the phrasing, a lifting of her chin at the start of indignation. It doesn't get farther than that. "Except that it wasn't entirely unseen," she responds to Godfrey. "Someone - multiple someones - knew about it and it's painfully obvious that somewhere along the lines, it was an inside job." The general assumption made clear, she exhales a deep sigh. That she wasn't able to stop it in time is a source in the spike of the tech director's frustration.
Marlowe curls her hand into a loose fist and glances to the blackened phone screen. "So this is it, then? We wait until something gets dug up and in the meantime, hope that the other side doesn't have a technopath or engineer who can crack Stark's Arc Reactor?" She withdraws to fold her arms over her chest, dispirited expression drawing her gaze down to the floor. The feeling doesn't linger, however, as she comes to a decision. Eyes lift and she looks to the present faces before turning back to the phone. "If you don't keep me informed of what you find, Asi, I swear to god." She points an accusatory finger at the black screen. "Toriaezu, kari ga aru yo. You owe me."
The PR director’s face stays perfectly placid as Godfrey shares the details of his predicament. Too placid. She’s well-practiced at keeping a straight face when ridiculous questions are being lobbed her way, or when the (truthful) answers to those questions would shine anything less than a pristine light on the company or its affiliates. But she’s been serene since the mention of Monica, but the knuckles bent around her glass have gone white.
“Given what you’ve said,” she begins, words issued forth at a leisurely pace, “I’m all but certain Praxis has our property.” Anyone else would be trying to sell it to the highest bidder. “There isn’t anyone else with the money and resources to make use of Marlowe’s technology.” There’s a dip of her chin there, giving credit where it’s due.
Kay turns her head enough to regard Godfrey from the corner of her eye, taking a sip of her drink again. Whatever she intended to say to him, she decides against and instead turns that narrowed gaze to the phone. “Asi, if you can dig up a lead, I can chase it down.” Again, she turns her attention to Marlowe, “And you’ll be the first to know what I know.”
The business liaison’s focus is on the contents of the glass loosely held in his fingers, a small smile ticks up at the corner of his mouth as he listens. Smug? Maybe. Amused? Probably.
“Whatever we find, we go in together,” Godfrey offers out smoothly, thought there a tone to it that is rather final. Looking over at Kay, a brows tip up in challenge. “It is my job on the line after all.” Him standing aside and letting her go in… it was not up for negotiations.
Swirling his glass, Godfrey turns thoughtful then a hand slipping into his pocket, “And I agree. Praxis potentially has it. Which… if true, complicates an already delicate matter. Last thing we need is this coming back to rest at Yamagato’s doorstep. Which,” he lifts the glass with a sigh, “means stealth is going to be in our best interest.”
“Kari…tte,” Asi echoes back, as confused as amused as she is about that. She shakes her head to herself, recovering with a swift and false-enthusiastic, “Hei, hei, Tekku-cho.” She imagines that even though Marlowe’s shifted back to being more of herself that Asi hasn’t earned that right yet.
Maybe after she comes up with a solid lead.
“As much as I would like to see you at work, Kay, I agree we should take this on together. I will forward what I find as I find it, and I hope you will do the same. Let’s set up a group chat for it.” In the dim lighting, her eyes narrow at a thought. “Any punchy name recommendations?”
"Given the reach of Praxis Heavy, how many assets and locations would we have to search," Marlowe questions with a huff of exasperation at Kay and Godfrey, arms folding again in containment. "Each moment spent following one possibility is another spent in wrong hands."
She doesn't state it directly again, having placed her participation card in the mix prior. But she does gain a wry, thin edge of smile. The thinnest, it seems, as she puts forth another realization. "The Cestus II wasn't my idea, but I'll search its design files. If there's a feature that can be activated on it somehow, even if it is to destroy it…" She's willing to sacrifice it. However, the consequences of it she knows or can guess, given the look that she gives Godfrey.
As for Asi's question on name recommendations, she casts her gaze ceilingward, silent asking for inspiration. It comes in the form of a faint, breathless sounding laugh. "Shitennou."
“I’m all for teamwork,” Kay is quick to assure everyone in the room, waving a hand through the air to dismiss the idea that she might try to take over this operation of theirs. “In fact, I would prefer not to have to tackle this on my own, and I wouldn’t want to see anyone else here do that either.”
Tapping her nails against her glass, she takes in a slow, deep breath as she considers the angles. “We understand that each of our lives is forfeit if we fuck this up, right?” Brown eyes move from player to player of this game, even the phone perched on the piano, holding each gaze for a moment. “So we don’t keep each other in the dark. There’s been too damn much of that already.”
Kay runs her tongue over her teeth, staring down at her drink with an annoyed expression. “I’ve been charged with replacing Monica on my team. Once I have my new recruit, I’ll assign them to this task.” Harrying Alcatel-Lucent can wait a while.
Godfrey listens to each woman in turn rather intently, interested in what each has to say, and nodding in agreement with each point. “Excellent. Glad to know that we’re all on the same page.” There is some relief in that. No one had any illusions of the dangers ahead of them. “As soon as the lovely and talented Asi has some news, we’ll plan our next move.”
Godfrey looks as pleased as a cat that caught a canary.
“Well then luvs,” The business liaison pushes away from the counter, making his leisurely way back to the piano to pick up the blackened phone, offering Asi a brilliant smile.
“I’d say that Operation Arm-a-gettin is a go.”