Participants:
| Scene Title | It Is Politics |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Adam Monroe comes to Viviane with an offer. |
| Date | October 26, 2009 |
Most of City Hall has been abandoned for the day as the time edges farther past the regular work day, sun long since set and given everyone else leave to make their way to families or company. The building isn't completely abandoned, the janitorial crew being the most obvious occupants with the noise they make buffing the floors. One door remains slightly ajar, however, glass etched with the name Viviane Pollini below which reads '46th District'.
Inside, the office is bigger than would be expected for a first year councilmember, suggesting that there have been favors exchanged for the privledge. It's large enough to fit a plush red couch in one corner and a large mahogany desk in the other. Two guest chairs have been positioned near the desk, upholstered in a velvet brown fabric that is so dark it is almost black. Though lacking in personal photographs or memorabilia, the scattering of artwork is enough to make the place feel occupied.
Viviane is currently laid out on the couch, a manilla folder clutched in her hands as her bare feet dangle over the arm of the couch, high heels long discarded. Her lips move slightly as she reads, a habit she's never learned to break, and her spare hand pushes back a curl of hair that seems to want to fall into her eyes no matter how many times it is tucked behind her ear.
Along the quiet, empty halls walks a wanted man. Ironically, he's so wanted, that most people don't know that he's wanted. His steps echo gently within the halls of the building. In the quiet building with marble floors, Adam's shoes long announce his presence before he does. But eventually, the footsteps stop at the slightly ajar door and there's a brief knock before Adam steps in the door with a bit of a whistle, "Hallo, Ms. Spollini." he says in a New England accent, "I hope life is treating you well."
Warm brown eyes look up from the work at hand, folder dropping onto her belly though her fingers continue to grip it lightly as Viviane appraises the man at her door. Despite her definitive Italian features, her words are shorn of an accent like a true politician as she starts neutrally, "I'm sorry, I don't believe we've met. May I help you with something?" Her feet slide off the edge of the couch as she shifts into a sitting position, slipping into her high heels to appear more professional despite the tousled curls and wrinkled clothing from her previous lounge.
Adam smiles as he steps into the office and closes the door behind him, "Oh, no, we haven't met. My name is Richard Sanders." he says brightly. "And, I suppose I'm here to offer a situation in which we can help each other." he steps quietly towards a chair and says, "Do you mind if I sit?" he questions, then sits down. He leans back comfortably, "You've done rather well for yourself already."
There is a gesture of permission as he asks to sit, Viviane smiling slightly as he sits down anways. "The trappings don't so much matter as the job itself I find, Mr. Sanders," she replies, voice genuine and soft. "I care about the people. That's why I entered politics." She quirks an interested eyebrow at the proposal of helping each other, but there's no outright question of how.
Adam chuckles, "Oh, that sounds very nice. I'm sure that'll be good for the speeches. Not now, of course, you're still relatively low on the ladder." he crosses one leg over the other, "But you're young, you've got a career ahead of you. So long as you make the right decisions and the right alliances. It's politics, after all." he considers the woman quietly before he says, "That's why I'm here."
"It is politics," Viviane agrees warmly, examining Adam lightly in return with a smile held on her lips. "What are you here for?" Her tone is friendly, edged with patience, as she rises from her perch on the couch easily to retrieve something from a drawer on the desk. It's a silver cigarette case, holding hand rolled cigarettes when she flips it open. "Would you like one?" She pulls one out for herself, pausing for his answer.
Adam raises a hand, "Oh, no, no thank you. I quit decades ago." he chuckles lightly as if he's made a joke. He, of course, hasn't. He watches Viviane, "I represent certain interests. Interests that remain on the look out for young talent on the rise and we look to help those talented few." he says, "In return, we look to have that talent…do favors for us."
The case is closed with a snap after the cigarette is lit with the matches inside, Viviane breathing in the smoke softly before exhaling. "Nasty habit, but unfortunately no one told me that when I was younger," she admits easily before leaning back against the desk, eyes focused on the tip of her cigarette for a moment. "How do you propose to help me, Mr. Sanders? What kind of connections do you have?" The ash is flicked thoughtlessly over the 18th century rug that pads the floor, a flicker of small holes burning into the fabric.
Adam spreads his hands quietly. "Well, there's always the basest of issues, money. Campaigns are expensive and raising funds is time consuming and exhaustive." he lifts an edge of his lips a moment, "We can help alleviate those issues." he lifts his chin a moment, "Then…there's always the problems that need to disappear. Past mistakes that need to be erased. I'm sure you, of all people, can recognize that. No one can prove your family's operations, for instance. Or that your uncle's tax evasion matters had anything to do with crooked books or racketeering…but you know facts are far less important than appearances. Then, of course, there's making sure certain matters you need to go smooth go, in fact, smooth."
"What would you expect of me in return?" Viviane questions amiably, brown eyes turned in attentiveness towards Adam as he talks. There's a certain look in her eyes that suggests she heard and paid heed to every word and nuance of his voice even as her toe scuffs against the ash on the carpet.
Adam chuckles, "Not very much now. You don't have much to give just yet." he lifts his chin a moment, "Perhaps a look for information here and there, cut through red tape where it's necessary, but nothing you wouldn't do for a few extra votes anyway. The truth is, there isn't a whole lot for you to lose." he stands from his seat, "I'll give you some time to think about it." he pulls a card out of his pocket with only a telephone number on it and places it upon her desk, "If you'd like to talk to me before I come back to talk to you, please give me a phone call."
"It was a pleasure to meet you. I look forward to speaking with you again," Viviane replies diplomatically, though there is actually an entertained look in her eyes, smile on her lips growing just a bit wider. She holds her hand out towards the man, slim and tanned with no roughness that would indicate hard labor. "Perhaps we can come to some terms we both would agree to." Her tone has the barest hint of flirting to it as her eyebrow arches at Adam.
Adam nods and reaches forward to take the other woman's hand. He shakes it firmly, "Perhaps we can. I'll be in touch."
