eileen_icon.gif gillian_icon.gif leonardo_icon.gif

Scene Title Investments
Synopsis Gillian and Eileen present Leonardo Maxwell with their pitch.
Date March 19, 2010

Financial District: Maxwell Development Headquarters

Somewhere in the middle of the Financial District is Maxwell Development Corporation, a rather large building with big red MDC letters on the side of the building with the afternoon sun reflecting off the reflective mirror-like windows.

After getting the call from Eileen, he told her to come right over to his office, cancelling a meeting in the process. When Eileen and Gillian arrive, they're ushered up the elevator by security, led down a long hallway, then the double wooden doors of his spacious office are opened.

There's all sorts of metal sculptures decorating the office, some as abstract as a small box sitting in a corner. Unlike most of the other rooms in the building, this is one of the few with a completely metallic floor, more like something smooth and artistic than some dull factory floor, and solid, very solid.

With a few expensive paintings littering the walls, as well as his business degree, Leonardo can be found standing in front of the large window that takes the place of an entire wall behind his desk. He keeps one hand behind his back, peering down at the street below while sipping some presumably expensive red wine with a glass inbetween his fingers. And today he's wearing a white tux with a black tie.

Double-breasted coat in charcoal wool, a dark gray dress and black stockings are a versatile combination that can either be dressed up or dressed down. For her meeting with Leonardo, Eileen has chosen the former and added a pair of carmine red shoes to the ensemble in addition to a matching cashmere scarf, soft leather gloves and a carnation worn behind her left ear with scarlet petals that have the texture of silk. Hair pinned back into a loose bun and a light dusting of rouge on her cheeks give her a cleaner, more professional appearance than the flyaway one she's had of late, but this is business meeting, not a social call, and Eileen is dressing the part.

She carries a leather briefcase with feminine lines in one hand while the other brushes against the small of Gillian's back as a reminder of her gratitude and what is probably meant to be a reassuring gesture before she moves to take a seat on the client-side of Leonardo's desk. "Thank you for seeing us on such short notice, Mr. Maxwell."

Now, the bird woman didn't exactly say to dress sexy, but Gillian seems to have gathered that sexy may be a good idea for this meeting, even if sexy is, by sheer fact of showing skin, something for better weather. The coat hanging off an arm, pepperred in melting snow, and the pants she wears are hardly sexy, but the low cut black blouse with velvet-like purple flowers counts. It is genereously low cut, showing off a only partially visible, and actually doctored, tattoo of a chinese dragon that winds around her right breast. Only the twisting long back is actually visible.

Metallic floors click with her boots, even squeak a little. After all, they've had to drudge through snow to get here. Many feet worth! Not all the melting got off even when she rubbed her feet furiously at the entrance. "Yeah, thanks," she adds on, in a whispery tone as she glances around. "Nice place you got here."

"No problem, Eileen. I haven't seen you since we danced. And I see you've brought a friend." Leonardo turns around, offering a friendly smile to them both, with his eyes shamelessly staring into Gillian's cleavage for a moment. He takes his seat, sitting the wine glass down a few feet away from him, then he leans back in that large comfortable seat and watches them both. "So what is it that you wanted to see me about, exactly?"

Eileen places the briefcase on her lap, one thumb resting on the metal clasp nestled beneath its slender handle but does not yet flick it open. Instead, her lips form a rueful smile and she crosses her legs at the knee, back straight in her seat. "Ms. Childs helps operate the orphanage on Staten Island with Mr. Fulk," she explains. "She and I have arranged something of a business proposition for you if you'd care to hear it?"

It takes a few more moments before Gillian sits down. Ms. Childs. She actually dimples a bit in some kind of amusement. Perhaps she's not used to being refered to in a business fashion. The more distracted he is at her busom, the better that she thinks things will go. "I've heard a lot about you," she says, continuing her smile. There's a time to tell the truth, and a time to flattery. She's heard enough about his pocket book. Which is probably what most women flirt with anyway.

"I assure you, it's all lies." Leonardo offers to Gillian with a flirtatious grin, seeming a bit shameless about flirting with another woman in front of the woman he was previously flirting with. "I'm all ears. I may have a question for you when this is all over."

Eileen does not seem to mind that Leonardo's interest in her has appeared to wane since the last time they met. With Gillian in his sights, she does not have to worry about dividing her attention between her work and deflecting his advances, and she would be lying if she even coyly told either of them that she's jealous. "I imagine you'll have more than just one," she says as she snaps open the briefcase and withdraws a thin stack of paperwork that she pauses to shuffle, ensuring that all the pages are in place before she places it on Leonardo's desk. When she folds the briefcase shut again, she rests her hand on its lid with slim fingers fanned.

"There's a piece of land we're interested in that's about fifty miles north of New York City called Pollepel Island. The state has owned the deed to the property since the late sixties, but it hasn't done anything with it." The paperwork sitting on the desk corroborates Eileen's story should Leonardo experience the desire to thumb through it while she speaks. "The organization that Ms. Childs and I work for lacks the funding to purchase Pollepel. Moreover, we're concerned about what kind of attention we might attract if we did."

Distracting a man from their target is one of the things women are good at— and he's not bad looking, and has money. Gillian isn't really interested, especially considering her luck with relationships, but— no need to give away one tiny advantage. "You certainly know more about this than me," she says, keeping her smile steady, while teasing at her hair a little with a hand. Eileen knows most of what they're talking about— she has a feeling she does much better as, well, the distraction.

"Don't worry, the only thing better than one beautiful woman in my office, are two beautiful women in my office." Leonardo assures Gillian, then starts thumbing through the papers as she speaks, appearing intrigued. "And what exactly will you be doing with this island? Further… why exactly am I buying you an island? I'm one for expensive gifts, but…" Eileen seems to be one of the few people in the world who have managed to make him question a purchase that doesn't involve his company.

"It isn't a gift," Eileen clarifies. "It's an investment." She watches Leonardo explore the contents of her proposal, including blueprints for the warehouse situated on the island, aerial photographs of the property and an old copy of the deed itself pulled from a public archive. "You've donated medical supplies to our organization before," she says, "and I feel as though we share similar viewpoints when it comes to the manner in which the American government has chosen to handle the Evolved. You've heard of cattle rustlers?"

"I bet you have beautiful women in your office all the time," Gillian says, showing off her dimples again for a moment, before glancing at Eileen, who is keeping it all business. Business that she's actually better at, too. "Even in today's society, land is a very important thing, especially for people with our… viewpoints. And besides that, there is also the fact this island is a location of an historical landmark, one that's rotting away, with no one really doing anything about it. It would be a shame for the weeds to take the whole thing."

"My people have extrapolated quite a few things that the American government seems to be doing, though we've confirmed nothing." Leonardo says before nodding his head slightly at her question, giving the blueprints quite a bit of his attention. "Before you continue, I believe you should explain what exactly your organization is. It's clearly more than simple charity. Perhaps you can even help me with a little problem that seems to be plaguing me too." He sits back, hands on the tips of his armrests, simply waiting and watching for an answer.

It's difficult for Eileen to sum up the Ferry in a few words, but she's been anticipating this conversation for a long time and has been given plenty of opportunity to encapsulate it. "We protect people who are incapable of protecting themselves or their families from entities that would do them harm. Humanis First, some branches of the government. I can't tell you much more than that without authorization from our lead organizers, but we have reason to believe that the situation is only going to get worse. We need Pollepel and everything on it if we're to defend ourselves from what's coming."

"For example, I currently help run a orphanage that is primarily for Evolved children. We take care of them whether they've been Registered or not, and try our best to shelter them from such things as Humanis First, and even normal every day thugs," Gillian explains, watching Eileen carefully as she adds in her own personal addition to the organization, albet in the periphery. It's why she can explain more of what they do, too, because… they aren't officially part of the Ferry, and most of what they do is publicly accessable. "It would be nice to know there's an alternate location for those children if it became necessary."

"If that's the case, then I can tell you what my people are telling me. As I said, we're aware that the government are doing things, I have people getting those messages that someone named Rebel keeps leaving. We've been putting pieces of the puzzle together, and so far we've come to a general theory. Perhaps you can confirm some of this for me." Leonardo seems to have put talk of the island on the backburner now that this is all coming to light. "You see, we believe the government are building camps for Evolved. We haven't been able to figure out why exactly, at least not until H5N10. We believe it's government manufactured, so the government will be able to round up Evolved in them. What we haven't figured out is how the virus started, we have no idea who specifically is behind everything, and we don't know when the government will make a move, if any of this is even true. Thoughts?"

He speaks very calmly about all of this, not letting on any emotion beyond curiosity. He's certainly interested to see how they react to what he's just said.

"I've not spoken with Rebel personally," Eileen tells Leonardo. "He's made threats against some of our people for refusing to cooperate, so I would be hesitant to make contact with him unless it becomes necessary. The woman you want to be speaking with is Catherine Chesterfield." She parts the breast of her coat with her hand, and for the briefest moment the matte material of the shoulder holster she wears under it is visible from the businessman's perspective but rather than pull out a pistol she dangles a business card between the knuckles of two fingers and flips it over.

"I'm in no position to speculate about the virus' origins," she amends, retrieving a fountain pen from the dark confines of the briefcase so she has something to write with. "Ms. Chesterfield, on the other hand, has been doing some independent research on the subject, and I suspect she'd appreciate a consult."

The pen's tip scratches across the back of the business card, hemorrhaging obsidian ink. "If you'd like to arrange a meeting with her, call this number and tell her that Munin sent you. Have a date and time ready before you do. She's quite thorough."

Trying to imagine this poor man in Cat's clutches is vaguely humoreous, but the topic has made Gillian's smile falter a bit, the dimples vanishing. "I'm honestly not sure what to think of Rebel either. He's made vague accusations with vague hints of proof, but nothing beyond… vague. I did a lot of paper footwork to investigate Staten Island specifically after the first batch of accusations about camps, and I've found nothing on paper to indicate anything of the sort. I'd like to see something tangable rather than… fear-mongering."

"I believed it was simply fear-mongering myself, until this flu began, then it was like the missing piece of the puzzle. Keep Evolved weak, cull the population in camps, and then they're perfectly managable. It's similar to the New World Order theory, except this is actually happening." Leonardo reaches for the card, offering Eileen a careful nod. "You'll have your island, and everything on it. Though I'm curious where you were going with cattle rustlers."

Eileen's briefcase clicks shut. A moment later, she's rising from her seat at the desk and smoothing the front of her coat with her gloved palm. "Resist the urge to sensationalize what's happening here, Mr. Maxwell," she advises Leonardo. "Drawing comparisons between conspiracy theories and what few facts we've been able to establish does more harm than good. As for cattle rustlers— that's just another name for what we are." One that she doesn't sound particularly enthralled with, but her tone softens several degrees when she reaches her right hand across the desk and offers it to Leonardo.

"Thank you."

"And just cause we're cautioning against jumping to conclusions the reason we're here has a lot to do with… well, 'just in case' those conclusions are accurate," Gillian says with her smile returning a bit. "It's just like buying disaster insurance. You don't want to have to use it, but you damn well want it when bad things happen. I bet anyone who didn't tag winter-weather damages onto their home insurance is kicking themselves in the teeth right now." Then again… "Considering the winters we usually get anyway, I'd probably kick them in the fucking teeth myself for just being stupid. And we're not stupid. Investment, insurance— all the same in the end."

Leonardo takes Eileen's hand, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on the back of it. "Thank you for gracing me with your radiant presence." He smiles, then releases her hand and sits back in his seat. "You, Childs, you can stay. And Eileen, I'll give you a call once I've worked everything out. I was going to build a mall, but this is slightly more interesting."

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