Participants:
Scene Title | Brass Tacks |
---|---|
Synopsis | Adam hires Scarlett |
Date | January 7, 2009 |
Central Park - Belvedere Castle
Constructed from the same stone as the Vista Point which supports it, Belvedere Castle seems to rise out of the earth itself. The miniature Gothic castle is easily visible from a distance, courtesy of both its height and the American flag fluttering from the turret's pinnacle. Its windows overlook views of Turtle Pond, the Delacorte Theater, and the Great Lawn. The interior, however, is anything but Gothic; the halls on both floors are filled with telescopes, microscopes, paper-mache birds, skeletons, and feathers, all laid out as parts of an interactive exhibit. In the Henry Luce Nature Observatory, visitors can borrow binoculars, notepads, maps, and guidebooks with which to study the wildlife of the park.
It's cold. It's dark. Hell, it's fucking January in New York. It's not the sort of environment that tends to draw eager tourists… even to a location as prominent as Central Park. It's perfect. The miniature castle has become a frequent haunt for Scarlett, from the quaint decorations to the conveniently placed telescopes. It's… sweet, in a way. And at nearly 1am, it's blessedly private. Or so one would imagine. The woman's perched herself atop one of the miniaturized balconies, trench-clad back propped against the stone window edge, with one foot dangling toward the ground below. Gaze directed toward one of the nearby ponds, but her eyes unfocused. A half-burned cigarette dangles between two fingers, the tip turned gray with disinterest, and a narrow plume of smoke spirals lazily upward. "Not it the fuck off…" it's muttered, seemingly toward the air, as she shifts her weight against the stones. The movement causes the burnt tip of the cigarette to break free, and the woman's uttering another irritable curse as the gray soot falls atop a black-clad thigh. Now for the finger-painting…
This evening, along with his usual attire and a thick coat, Adam sports a fur cap which appears to be made in the russian style. There's a feather sticking out of the cap and Adam walks along with no apparent concern for the irony. Of course, this late at night, there really aren't people around to make comment upon it. He steps through the stone quietly and makes his way towards the castle as if he's sure of where it is he wants to go. He stops, perhaps thirty yards away until he spots his quarry. He watches her rest in the cold and isolation and lifts a lip dubiously. But in the end, he stomps along and makes his way towards her. He doesn't appear to be making any effort to hide his approach.
Scarlett's eyes focus with the unexpected movement, and the woman's chin is angled upward to watch the approaching stranger. A pierced 'brow arching dubiously as she takes in that hat, before she's drawing an audible breath and shifting her weight on the ledge. Pulling her dangling boot upward, and rearranging herself into a less dignified person might call 'Indian style'. Legs crossed, and an elbow propped atop one knee as she rocks forward to continue staring across the distance. Brushing idly at the now-smeared soot with one hand, and using the other to bring the now-remembered cigarette to her lips. "… hey," murmured after a moment, alto already betraying the roughness of a habitual smoker.
Adam keeps making his way forward, dipping his head to push against the cold, but he nods briefly at the hey. It isn't until he's much closer that he fully stops and smiles, "Hello." there's a bit of an innocuous look about him, "Seems like a particularly cold night for sitting around and smoking, yeah?" his british accent flows easily. There's a brief pause before he says, "So, how are you tonight?" he questions.
"Peachy," the words are uttered in a plume of smoke, and the woman's smile is less than geniune behind the nicotine haze. "And yourself?" Her head cocks slightly as she looks down at him, and she makes no effort at hiding her dubious study of his hat.
Adam tilts his head for a moment, "Oh, well enough, well enough." he pauses, "Would you believe I'm out here looking for you? I was told that you like to come here to be alone." he pauses, "Though, I'm not sure I was expecting that in the middle of winter."
"You know, may sound a bit self-involved… but I kind of assumed as much." The statement is accompanied by a vague smirk, and the cigarette is raised once more to dark-painted lips. "I ain't usually do business out here, but it was only a matter of time." She's furrowing her 'brow then, tapping the cigarette against the balcony's edge. "What do you want?" Well, she's nothing if not blunt.
Adam tilts his head to one side for a moment as he studies the woman quietly before he says, "Well. I suppose we could get down to the brass tacks." he pauses a moment before he says, "I want to hire you." he rubs his hands together for a moment, "I need someone of your talents, because I have a list of people I need to have taken care of."
That startles her. It's not shock, exactly, but he's definitely managed to stir the woman from her practiced apathy. "Yeah?" The word is breathed out, almost a laugh, as she straightens her back. Looking the man over with a new sort of scrunity, dark eyes narrowed in the dimness, before she's snorting to herself. "You don't look the type, mijo. You sure you know what you're askin' for?" The last breath is pulled off the cigarette, and then the butt is dropped thoughtlessly to the snow below. It hisses out with a sputtered protest, and sends up a last stream of spiteful smoke. "Not sure we should be usin'… euphamisms." A pause, and then a brief glance around the park. "Or outside voices."
Adam considers the woman quietly, her disbelief appears to make him a bit amused. He mms a moment, "You didn't strike me as the fearful type." he steps forward slowly, though, making his way closer. "I need a killer. I need a killer who, for the forseeable future works for me and only me. I'll also need you to torture people on occasion, for information and the like. I'm told this is the kind of thing you do." his head tilts to the side, "For this, I will pay you a large sum of money. I'm told in your best year, you nearly made it to two hundred thousand dollars. I can do better than that."
So much for subtlety. His words earn another snort from the woman, and a slight shake of her head. "Fearful? No. But you don't stay alive doin' the shit like you talkin' about when you go discussin' it like the Goddamn weather." Her reputation is impressive enough, but it might be a bit dampened by her social skills. "You," a pause, eyes narrowing a bit, "for example. No fuckin' idea who you are. Cop. Company. Rich idiot. I'm kind of hoping for the last… but to tell you the truth, I'm not real convinced on the rich part." Lips curving towards one corner, and her eyes glinting a bit in the light. "Where'd you get that fucking hat?"
Adam considers the question for a moment, "A friend." he says lightly, "Brought it back from Russia for me. Thought I'd give it a go." he's quiet for a moment and then says, "You know about the Company?" he questions, "That's good. Cuts down on what I need to tell you." he taps his foot a bit, "Rich is a relative term. That Microsoft bloke wouldn't be impressed. But, I assure you, I can pay your wages. Actually, better than your wages."
"Really?" She's questioning, lips curving into an expression that teeters between smirk and grin. Disbelieving and amused. "You're either impressively stupid, or incredibly arrogant." She's shifting again on the balcony, angling herself to drop a boot once more. Leg dangling, and her heel thump-thumping against the frost-laden wall. "Or…" hesitating a bit on the last option, "you ain't dealt much in blood money. You lookin' for weed? Fine. Coke? Hell, I'll throw in a dime bag for free. But this? You gotta take a girl to dinner before goin' /this/ deep."
"I didn't take you for the romantic type." he says. "But if you want to go to dinner, we can go to dinner. From your reputation, I rather thought you were more…pay me my money and stay out of my personal business. But we can go another way too." he pauses and shifts a bit as he slips a hand into his coat. Out comes a thick envelope filled with what one might imagine is filled with monetary bills. "I thought an initial amount of twenty five thousand would make sure we're on the same page." he holds the envelope in his hand, "Or did I misunderstand what would get your attention."
The envelope catches her attention. See, this sort of thing might actually convince a girl. Talk of contracts, salaries… anyone can do that. And considering Scarlett's 'reputation', he probably isn't the first to come offering grand sums for just a little blood. But the prospect of tangible payment — hard cash — is doing wonders at curbing her awkward humor. Expression sobering almost immediately, and a single 'brow raised as a hand is extended. Waiting. The statement is clear — hand it over, and then we'll talk.
Adam considers the woman briefly before he steps forward and slips the envelop over to her. He doesn't seem to have any great concern with handing over such a sum of money, and if Scarlett was to know more about him, she'd understand why. But in the end, he gives her the money and says, "Will I have to wait for you to count it before we get to business?"
The envelope is snagged with little regard for propriety or false pretenses. Yes, this is how you get her attention. A glance inside the envelope to assure herself of the contents, and then she's glancing upward again. 'Brow raised once more, the silver piercing glinting in the light, and her chin tipped upward in silent acknowledgement. "If you know who I am, and what I do, then you know I can make you hurt if you fuck me over." Accent abruptly absent, and her voice low. Then, the more characteristic smirk returning, she's slipping the envelope into the inside pocket of her trench coat. "Names. Addresses. Powers. Throw in a few pictures if you want to get fancy."
Adam smiles at the response of Scarlett, favoring her with a placating look. "Of course, of course." he pauses at her demands for the names, "That will come in time." he says, "We won't be starting immediately, but when we do, it will be in.." he looks thoughtfully for the right word, "Full swing, so to speak." he's quiet a moment, "I don't suppose you have any questions."
Questions. The woman gives him an intentionally owlish blink, and then shrugs a narrow shoulder. "You pay me enough, I'll make up my own answers." And judging by the moment of silence that follows, 25K is enough. Then, seeming to hop topics, "You really should get rid of the hat. The accent's already a little… fabulous." A soft sniff. "If you catch my meaning."
Adam shrugs his shoulders a bit, "Yes, well, I'm sure we have different tastes." he pulls his coat about him for a moment, "I'll be in touch." he says before he turns from the castle and then starts off in the direction he came, apparently not concerned for any further discussion.