Career Focused Man


magnes_icon.gif sable_icon.gif

Scene Title Career Focused Man
Synopsis Magnes and Sable go to check out a new apartment, and discuss Magnes' new job, new outlook.
Date February 26, 2010

Near Greenwich Village

Early in the afternoon, after a morning of looking at apartments a lot larger than his pizza shop room, Magnes and Sable are standing in a particularly large apartment, practically a bachelor pad in Greenwich, overlooking a good chunk of the skyline.

"This place is pretty nice. I don't know, I might end up moving into the building that Tracy Strauss lives in, since it'd be convenient. She'll be my new boss." He heads to one large window, looking down at the people walking. "Since I'll be her intern, and by proxy, working for the President of the United States, there has to be some living arrangement perks."

Sable is, here, out of her element. Would that she could say that she was used to looking at apartments so that she could rob them, or something equally rebellious and badass like that. But she's never had the nerve to loot and plunder, not really. So she mostly just keeps her arms crossed and her lips pursed, and gives ambiguous grunts towards most questions.
When she finally does speak, it's to say something ill tempered: "President of the Goddamn United States?" she grumbles, mutinously, "The Man amongst Men, dude. Shit, is he a Republican this time around? I don't keep track. Dance of two fucking devils, one just a bit less black."

"I'm not sure, actually. I have a lot of research to do before I start work, and I have to brush up so I can see what I remember about political science and all." Magnes turns around and walks over to her, placing a hand on her shoulder with a friendly smile. "I'm just saying this in case you were worrying, but; Even though we're moving, and I'm getting a fancy job and starting school next semester, I'll never leave you behind and I'm never dropping the band, I'm not that kinda guy. I don't think I've steered you wrong yet."

"It's the fuckin' steering itself that's the fucking issue," Sable says, glaring not at Magnes but at the apartment, perhaps at what it stands for, at least in her mind, "How'd you land this new legit gig anyhow? And for serious you want to live near your boss? They don't have to make you drop the band, they'll just fill up your hands with so much job you can't carry anything else." Her eyes cut over to Magnes, "What will they have to doing? Evicting poor people, or keeping blacks out of the nice neighborhoods? That's basically what government's about, right?"

Magnes laughs, shaking his head at her. Something about the look he usually gives her when she's outraged, mostly says he thinks it's endearing and a bit cute. "I know Tracy, before I even thought about getting this job, she's a somewhat good person, just very driven. Her work mostly involves public relations, making sure people don't get sex tapes of the president and stuff. Since I'd be her intern, I'd mostly be learning how to do her job, taking any excess workload she has, getting her coffee and stuff."

He straightens his unbuttoned black suit jacket, which is the only part of a suit he's wearing, over a dark-gray shirt with all the colored Lantern rings going across the chest. And on his legs are just a simple pair of blue jeans. "How I got the job, well, on top of the fact that I have extremely high grades and an education bordering on college level, I kind of called in a favor with someone and had a few strings pulled. I guess saving lives has some perks, and my friend Daphne said I should try being selfish occasionally, so, I went for it."

"So you're a coverup man? Classy." Sable grumps, though she's obviously losing steam, lacking genuine outrage. This is just a matter of principle, a required defaming. "Y'know, I'd watch a presidential sex tape. He ain't half bad looking, and I bet he can secure the best tail the nation has to offer. I mean… Kennedy got Monroe, and you can't tell me you wouldn't have wanted to see /her/ O-face." Speaking of classy…
Sable gives a shrug, "We're close to the village at least. That ain't bad… And by 'we' I mean you and your hanger on…" She at least has the good manners to admit she's the freeloader here. Not much room to complain.

"I don't know, I've only seen two O-faces so far, but I imagine Monroe had lots of practiced. It's Kennedy I wouldn't wanna see naked." Magnes shakes the image from his head, walking to take a peek into the fairly sizable bedroom. "And yeah, I guess that is a big part of PR, saving the president's image and covering things up. But I promise, if there's aliens or anything particularly evil, you'll be the first to know. Think of me as your inside man."

In the midst of trying to make her feel better about the job, he starts opening closet doors, rubbing his chin. No particular need for a secret room in a place this large… "And hey, don't talk like that. I invited you, you have as much right to have a say in where we live as I do, that's why I wanted you to come look with me. If I get filthy rich one day, I'll even take you to look for mansions with me. Oh, and I washed your clothes, and snuck some new ones in. I mostly wanted to see what you thought of Hello Kitty panties and a tanktop, but I got you some normal stuff too."

Sable smirks, giving Magnes a brief heads up before a one of her patented gilded witticisms is tossed his way. "Caught a glimpse of yourself in the bathroom mirror while wacking off?" she suggests. Her grin fades as he chides her for self deprecation. She scowls, "You gotta be careful, man. It's hard enough for me to keep myself from being a real fucking leech without your encouraging me to stay latched on. Seriously, man. If nothing else I just wanna be clear about, like, gratitude." His final words cheer her up a bit. She snickers. "Hook me up with some fabric markers, is all I ask. Hello Kitty needs modi-fucking-cation."

"Don't worry, I know you appreciate it. And honestly, I like having a roommate, living by myself is pretty lonely. And I think living with you has pretty much killed most of the mysteries of women. And hey, I've never done that! I was actually with another girl, thank you very much." Magnes snickers from a closet, and peeks out to see what she's doing. "Oh yeah, I'm banned from Old Lucy's, just thought you should probably know in case you go there with fake IDs and stuff. I kind of had a falling out with the owner, who was a girl I had a thing for. Let's just say my eyes opened and I said what was on my mind and left."

Sable smacks her forehead with the palm of her hand. "You did /what/?" she says, "You said what was on your mind? Okay, okay… you /never/ do that. I mean, okay, if it's love or some shit, or like a deep and meaningful friendship where you also want to bang the individual involved, but it can't be that elsewise you'd be broken up about it and shit." Sable peeks into the bathroom, reached over and tugs on the shower curtain, examines her fingertips like she's a forensic scientist. "Man… what if we need a gig and that's the only place? What if that where we're supposed to be discovered? Who's this girl? What exactly happened? Maybe I can, like, set shit straight. For the good of the band."

"I just kind of realized that in all the time I had feelings for her, she barely even bothered to get to know me before judging and rejecting me. That just kind of showed me the sort of person she is. And the reason I got banned is because I was gonna do something she didn't want me to do, but, I decided not to do what I was gonna do anymore. It's a bit of a private thing, so I can't tell you, but, I wasn't gonna bother telling her that I decided not to do it." Magnes steps out of the closet and heads into the bedroom to look in on her. "I just didn't care enough about seeing her again to tell her. Her name's Abigail Beauchamp, southern blonde, you can talk to her if you want. She lives in Old Lucy's upstairs, just ask for her. And for the love of god, don't punch her or anything."

Sable grins, as if the insinuation of violence was a compliment. Still, she throws up her hands. "Hey, come on, gimme some credit. I wouldn't hit a girl," her slightly crazed smile leaves the veracity of this statement in some doubt, "Anyhow, it's a diplomatic missiony-thing. Point is to have her let us in the doors, not, like… get us restraining ordered. Restrained ordering? Res- what's the, like, verb of that?"

"I'm not sure the words work that way." Magnes laughs and looks into the tub, then sighs and shakes his head. Apparently he's deciding against this apartment. "I'm pretty sure I want an apartment in Tracy's building. I'm already familiar with the building and the surroundings, it'd be convenient." Starting to head out of the bathroom and to the door, he motions for her to follow. "By the way, I'm taking a break with relationships and stuff. I mean, I'll still stick with doing stuff with my hot friend, or you, if your rules ever change, but from now on I'm a career focused guy. Relationships just make my life all kinds of crazy."

Sable snorts, "Those sorts of resolutions last as long as you don't see anyone who's making you write shitty love songs," she attests, "But go ahead, make it. Good to have a sense of focus, eh?" She sniffs, "Place is a dump. I'd know, lived next door to a real dump for a while." Guess she agrees with his assessment, "Well," she beams, "That means I may end up meeting your boss. Should I wear something nice? Try for a good impression? Make it clear we ain't living in sin or anything?"

"From what I know of Tracy, and a particular lesson she taught me, I somehow don't think she cares much if I'm living in sin." Magnes opens the door for her, always with the manners and such. "Besides, the only reason we're not living in sin is because you don't want to. But, you can just wear whatever you want. Somehow I can't see you in a dress, or even a formal suit, she could probably see right through it. But, we could always try and impress her anyway, never hurts. Wanna get some takeout before we head home?"

"Why thanks, darlin'," Sable says, parading her usually dormant Atlanta accent and tapping Magnes' chin with a fingertip as she steps out the door. "Me, I'd look fucking great in a suit, just need to make sure it was tailored properly. If I went square, I'd be the sharpest cornered, sharpest looking square ever to put her boot on the throat of the working stiff!" She clenches an imperious fist to demonstrate how iron-like it can be. "Let's get Thai, man. I love me some Thai!"

Magnes heads out with her, mostly making idle chit-chat by the time they leave the apartment, grab a bag of Thai food, and he wraps an arm around her waist to swoop into the air.

Now they've above the buildings, heading quite quickly to Brooklyn. She's fairly secure with his arm around her, and he seems like he knows what he's doing. "I hope you don't mind flying too much. And y'know, I could tailor you a suit."

Sable does a good job, at least, of /hiding/ her tenseness at the altitude. She figures he'd feel pretty torn up about accidentally turning her pretty self into a smear on the asphalt. She clings on pretty tight, however, which, for what it's worth, can't be that unpleasant for him. "What? Oh! Really?"

"Yeah, I mean, I don't think I ever really showed you all the stuff in my huge closet I told you about." Magnes looks down at her clinging as they start to descend to the alley of the pizza shop. "Y'know, I almost wanna stay up here a little longer."

"Do you fucking now?" Sable says, peering up at him, "Why's that?" And tightly she clings, continuing to try ever so hard to act cool. Like… heights, whatever.

"In what other situation do I get you clinging to me?" Magnes grins mischiviously, but releases her when they're firmly planted on the ground, and he opens the back door so she can head upstairs to the apartment. "I don't know, just seemed tempting."

Sable brushes non-existent dust off of her front and glares at Magnes. "You sir, are no kind of gentleman," she declares, affecting a plantation belle accent. She takes the open door he offers, however. "I remember seeing a little of what's in that closet. And thinking: this here is a man that can help us make a fine-ass stage show."

When they're up in the apartment, doors locked, he sits the bag of food on his bed and moves the bookcase away from the closet, opening the door to head in with her.

The closet is full of clothes, mostly costumes of all sorts. Sci-Fi and other fiction, but mostly comic clothing, and the occasional regular outfit, mostly female stuff in that category. At the far end of the long closet is his computer setup, and his old 'crime hub'. There's a map of the city on the wall above the monitor, with red pins and strings with sticky notes, saying things about Refrain, Humanis First, and other assorted crime-related information. He was definitely serious about this at one point. And next to the computer desk is his sewing machine area, and currently there's an almost-finished corset laying on it. "So what do you think, of the costumes and stuff? You can try stuff on if you want." It is pretty nice quality, except perhaps the earlier things he worked on. It's quite easy to tell what's his early work and what's more recent.

Sable weaves through the space, examining this and that costume, appraising with her 'serious' face. She takes the crime-buster set up in stride. After the whole robo-raptor reveal, she's pretty good at accepting his insane past with equanimity. She finds the corset, pokes at it, turns to Magnes. "Think you'd be able to find something you've made that'd fit a woman of my," she waves her hands in front of herself, indicating her slight build, her small breasts and slim hips, "Dimensions?"

"Let's see…" Magnes starts going through costumes, having determined her dimensions quite a while ago. "You're about the size of my old roommate, Elvis. Not sure whatever happened to her, probably went to Mexico or something. You two would have gotten along. She's a hardcore biker. Once she literally punched a guy's brain out, because they were trying to mug me. This was back before I could defend myself."

He finally finds what he's looking for, holding up a black jumpsuit from the X-Men movies, in her size. "It's one of the X-Men costumes, from the movie. I thought it looked bikerish, and I even made it pretty tough in case she got into a fight. I think it'd look great on you. Though I kind of made it in a way that'd, well, accentuate your… womanliness." It does look a bit tight in areas, or loose, depending on how one looks at it.

Sable peers at it with one eye. "Time to play, 'dress up the roomie'?" she says, then walks over and takes the outfit from him. "Turn around. Peek and lose the offending fucking eye. Unnerstand?"

"All the walking around in panties without a bra, and now you're modest?" Magnes teases, looking amused, then turns around after handing her the costume, waiting for her to finish. "I finished my Tim Drake Robin costume the other day, the fabric was expensive, but it's probably the most awesome costume I've ever made. I'm totally gonna go outside in it, just to test it out. It's for an upcoming convention."

"Matter of context," Sable replies, curtly, "Unless you'd rather me link the two, and get a fuckin'… habib or burka or some shit like that." She undresses with the mechanical economy of one getting ready for work, then works to fit into the new getup. Her expression is grave as she adjusts it, wincing a bit where it's tighter than she's used to things being, tugging in other places to make sure its an even fit. Finally, "Turn around. Just… cup your hands under your eyes to catch 'em if they fall out."

Magnes turns around, looking her up and down, and is silent for a good minute. After circling her once, then stepping back, he takes a deep breath and says, "Christ, I wish I had two hours of not being your bandmate."

Sable's grin is nothing short of maniacal. "That's the kind of attitude that'll sell us some records, buddy," she says, setting her hands on her hips, "Consider yourself head of costume design." She closes her fist in the air for the second time that day, looking more the villain than the hero in the black jumpsuit and wicked smile, "We're gonna take this town by storm, chum. Mark my goddamn words."

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