Participants:
| Scene Title | Captain Trips |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | A meeting over drinks to discuss progress and initiating the breaking of the first Seal. |
| Date | May 2 |
Some Pretentious Bar
Eight o'clock PM on a Monday night and Calvin's already been here for half an hour bent over one glass of whiskey and then another before switching over to something equally brown but more dilute. 'Here,' is one of many of the Upper East Side's more pretentious bars, polished wood flooring and contemporary furnishings washed warm in a swath of orange and blues carefully orchestrated to enhance the atmosphere and elevate it well above baser fare. The music's quiet enough to allow for easy conversation and loud enough to allow for privacy, which. Under the circumstances, is ideal.
Anyway he's been here drinking for half an hour even though arrangements were to meet at eight, dapper grey suit and the sharp slash of his tie knotted tight to offset mane and guyliner and bruising still shadowed in green and yellow across the right side of his face. There isn't much the lighting or makeup can do to hide it.
He also looks exhausted and faintly miserable, still in the process of puffing his posture out into something halfway respectable when he glances at his watch and scrubs a hand down the fine-trimmed border of his beard. The table he's sitting at is tall, narrow and isolated: designed for two. Which is fine. The place isn't busy.
There are maybe one or two bars in New York that can satisfy Yana's own pretentious tastes. Often, after a long day, a well mixed martini will do. Though there are times when she craves something much more complex and unique. Today is one of those days, and she is in luck, as this place tends to get it right for her most of the time. The chosen location meeting her approval as the door is held open for her upon her entrance. In garb befitting of the atmosphere: a black cocktail dress that lets her shoulders hang bare and allows for her sparkling jewelry to display, a silk sash is loosely wrapped once around her neck at the very center, before extending evenly down her shoulders and trailing further down to wrap around each forearm where the remainder is allowed to hang. Her hair stroked to a fine shimmer, not a single follicle out of place, and push to the side of one shoulder.
Spying her intended partner, she joins, making sure to announce her presence, as not to startle. "You seem to have been here a while. While not late, I do apologize for having you wait so long." She is approached for her drink order, looking to the bartender with a glimmer in her eyes, "I'll have a Cherry Daiquiri, please?" she order before taking a seat.
"I had a previous engagement that ended early," Calvin lies as smoothly as he slides off his stool to draw out hers for her before she sits, as people do. He's a little lackluster, for all that he moves elegantly enough through the motions. Worn down and distracted.
But. Tonight's a night for good news and maybe even celebration as dictated by the culmination of certain plans. He just has to remind himself of as much with a swallow of what he's already ordered, once he's retaken his own seat. Rum and coke.
"You're looking lovely as ever."
"Why thank you." She offers what could be interpreted as a genuine smile, though it could just be a polite acceptance of the compliment. "You look a little weary, but otherwise in good health. I had been concerned with the possibility of you coming into contact with the virus on your own. I'm glad to see that isn't the case. It has been a rather.. productive trial run so far. Arousing the right individuals to take notice." Yana of course takes to sitting with one leg crossed over the other, and both of them tilted slightly to one side.
Her drink is set in front of her, bright red and sweet looking. The small straw taken between her fingers and the concoction is stirred lightly. "I've been pretty hard at work trying to reach the proper goal, and it helps that I have assistance in this matter now. Someone you are acquainted with no less. A Dr. Odessa Price. Her help has allowed me to focus on the alterations as opposed to the contingency."
A tip of Calvin's crested head acknowledges his own exhaustion without comment or elaboration on the source. Disrupted sleep schedules and a stiffness in his upper back that can't be wholly attributed to propriety. The bruises on his face implicate physical altercation as the cause, but there's really no telling, is there? He doesn't talk about himself much.
He watches her stir instead, drift attention span latching after revolving motion until he catches himself and looks up. Just in time to hear the name Price: a slow blink betrays stifled surprise before he can smother it entirely. Odessa knows.
"Well," he says finally, once he's had a chance to swallow some of the dryness out've his mouth, "that sounds promising." Rrrreach for the rum and coke again, after an awkward beat. He sips.
"How long do you reckon before it's stable enough to execute?"
"A day." Yana sounds quite proud to deliver that answer, "I had to go about this a much more complex way. The details of which I won't bore you with, but I've come up with the proper chemical combination to achieve the desired effect. Now it is simply a matter of employing my power to make the changes." The straw to her drink is turned a few more times before she lifts it from the red liquid in preparation for the test. The straw is held horizontally and her lips clamp down upon it, near where her fingers grip. She drags the length of the straw along the tip of her tongue to get the flavor, taking a moment to let it wash over her pallet before finding it satisfactory, and pulling the glass in for a strong sip.
"In the morning, after my coffee, I'll spend the day in something of meditation, spending several hours in altering the strain. It should be finished around 6PM on the morrow." After a beat to let is sink in, she continues, "There is.. also the vaccine, which of course is just common practice to have as a bit of a fail safe, and in case it becomes necessary to halt the operation, or have a bargaining chip. I'll make sure it is quite well hidden."
A day.
Jaw hollowed around another clamp and swallow, Calvin rolls his glass in his hand, slivered ice tilting from one side to the other, condensation etching out an uneven arc across the table. He's back to watching her with her drink again, dully fascinated by the ritual she makes of it until recollection of Something Else creeches in uninvited and he flinches mildly to himself, apropros to nothing. Fucking —
"Do it," isn't meant to sound as much like an order as it inevitably does, imperative from the D to the T without much room for misinterpretation. "Just make certain you're out before they lock everyone in."
Her reasons for acting out such a project number in the few. It isn't simply to cause mayhem and destruction, or simply because she can. There is a purpose. Revenge is one of them, creating much needed change in the world is another, and probably the most important is to test the scope of her power. Always want to know where you stand, and just how much you can further evolve. If innocents need to die in the course of these reasons, then so be it. She is capable of doing what most others who claim a shred of humanity, would not do. Men, women, children.. they're all the same. Though what she will not admit aloud, is that there is at least one individual out there that she would spare this infection.
"But of course." she nods, glad to receive the go ahead, which only serves to drive her on even further. Suddenly, her drink tastes that much sweeter upon her lips. She savors it like a fine wine, and the mixture of the bright red fluid against the darker color of her lipstick creates for a split second, the image of crimson that flows through every human on this planet. This is before her tongue laps away the the mixture. "It also might help to have a few carriers on the outside. The virus should be able to reside in the system of an Evolved without causing ill effects, and be transmitted the same way as non-Evolved. Through the mucous membranes, in addition to general air contact. I'm considering making one of an associate of mine, Magnes Varlane.. who seems to be having a bit of trouble as of late, with an facsimile of himself from another dimension." The thought of it making her smirk, "He isn't all too fond of your name, I have to admit. You've done more than what he could do for me on this project. I believe there is a bit of jealousy in play with him."
If she's deliberately drawing attention to her mouth she is — succeeding.
Calvin looks for a third time once he's scuffed a hand across his scruffy chin, too self-aware not to realize he's doing it. If anything, there's a thoughtful, calculated edge to his tired consideration that has more to do with her than it does what she's saying.
Which happens to be a lot, at the moment. Not so exhausted that he can't absorb dialogue in addition to everything else, he listens at a quiet remove, a touch more relaxed now that the main idea has been addressed. That Magnes would have a version of himself from an alternate dimension does not seem to surprise him in the least, for some reason. He tips his brows up in sympathetic acknowledgement of the inconvenience, a chip of ice pressed up against the side of his glass with paired fingers. Tick.
"Most people aren't," commented candidly re: the state of his name in conversation these days, he draws a slow breath and stretches his shoulders into not-quite-a-shrug. "We're fortunate in that we share a mutual appreciation of the beauty of this project in addition to your less scientific assets. As for scattering the source spread, I agree. And actually had a few ideas of my own."
"Excellent. Having sources in mind makes this that much easier." And she likes it when things go easier. So smooth and fluid, quite like her drink. The likes of which she appears to be finishing quickly. She doesn't just drink the thing. It does in fact look like she is practically getting intimate with it. Perhaps not for Calvin's benefit, but his observation of her doesn't seem to shy her away from doing it in the least. There are subtle uses of her lips and her tongue that indicate that she is thoroughly enjoying various aspects of the drink. The color, the sweet and the tangy taste, along with the alcohol and its effect. "Can go one of two ways, as you know. A personal one on one meeting, like with your 'charming' friend before, or I can provide you with your own sample to use at your leisure. I'm perfectly fine with either way, to be honest. You're free to get as creative as you like." There is apparently some thing on her fingers, as she looks at the tips, and rubs them together while doing so. The condensation from her drink.
"A sizeable sample prepared for aerial dispersion would be ideal," says Calvin, "at your leisure." There's a pause while he continues to watch her, attention distributed evenly between drink and clinging condensation. Slightly pointed, until he sips his own drink and smiles, slightly. Finally. The first time tonight, even if it's more to himself. "Unless you'd prefer to give the old mucous membranes a go."
It seems to amuse her, at least. The look on her face aligned with a smirk that finds the statement clever. "It would be a first for me. But I am afraid that such things bring forth my inner demons, ghosts and skeletons." For a second, it appears as if she will lick that condensation from her fingers. A gesture that would not be too out of place, considering the way she has been treating the drink to this point. Though it doesn't happen. Simply taking hold of the glass, she finishes it off with a final sip and swallow. "I'll be sure to provide you with a suitable sample and device." An inhaler would be ideal for this purpose. "I should probably call it an early night. I'll need to ensure I get proper sleep in preparation for tomorrow. Should I deliver a message to Dr. Price for you?" she sets her glass upon the table, with not a drop of drink left in it. Obviously leaving the cost into his care, rising to her feet. "I'll be speaking with her about her progress on the vaccine, and assistance in helping to find the formula I needed."
Calvin's, "Fair enough," comes only after he's certain that she won't. Lick her fingers, that is. He's too tired for anything more than surface tolerance.
The issue isn't pressed.
He does clench his fist though, knuckles shown white for the beat it takes him to diffuse tension into a second show of his teeth instead. Being a gentleman is difficult. Sometimes more than others.
"Just that I said hullo," is a simplistic sort've message if there ever was one. "Thank you for meeting with me."
Yana can hold him in high respect for this tolerance, and restraint as a gentleman which might otherwise have her deal with him much differently. She'll not further rattle him, as she gives a gracious nod of her head, "I'll convey the message." she smiles, "Good evening Mr. Rosen." The woman gracefully departs his presence, easily going out the way she came in, with all of the confidence and the poise of a lady.