Participants:
| Scene Title | Meet and Greet |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Cardinal begins a gambit with a succinct sort of meet and greet. |
| Date | July 29, 2010 |
The original property in being turned into d'Sarthe's has not changed much from its days as Tavern on the Green. New interior and new decor are all in the process of being added to and renovated, while the outside is in a considerable state of repair, with scaffolding covering the walls and construction crews working on remodeling. Around the far back perimeter is a new fence, a tall and sturdy arbor that does well with the trees in hiding the skeletal view of midtown in the distance. This fence surrounds new, colorful gardens, some of which are still being planted and installed. Stacks of red bricks surround an unfinished pond in the process of completion.
On the inside of the building, the restaurant is home to several different large dining rooms and a few respective bar areas. Most of the dining rooms are unfurnished as of yet, with blue plastic tarps covering the floor, ladders raised to the ceiling to allow electricians to work on the lighting and the smell of freshly drying paint clinging in the air.
The only finished section of this remodeled Tavern on the Green seems to be the kitchen, with its modern appliances of brushed steel facade and spacious prep areas. It even looks as though this kitchen has been used on occasion, despite the restaurant itself having not been completed.
There are office spaces inside of the current construction of the Tavern on the Green into d'Sarthe's, however many of them are unused in any capacity of the word. It is likely that they may remain this way for months to come. Gideon was never a man to sit in an office and count his minutes, his money. He leaves that to slightly more capable people, so to speak. Rather than sequester himself away, most of the days that he has been in New York his men and women can find him floating like a ghost around the brand new kitchen on the property. Much of the kitchen has been broken in, per idle use. At the very least, there will be no surprises for monsieur d'Sarthe when the facility opens and is filled with trained chefs.
It has been weeks since his meeting with Kain Zarek, and days since he was dropped clue of a necessary meeting by Richard Cardinal. It has always been his decision when it came to when he meets with someone privately; he takes little leadership from others, and such a thing is evident to the point of him having scheduled this afternoon personally. Calling his personal assistants is one thing. When Gideon d'Sarthe picks the telephone from their hands, that is another.
Even in the kitchen, he has such impeccable oddity; there is a little mixed breed dog flitting around on the tile- the clicking of his nails really the only clue that he is in there. Somewhere. Gideon, in his own world, is set up at one of the many prep counters, a blazingly sharp knife in his hand as he deftly slices big, fat, red tomatoes on a white cutting board. They have, perhaps most fittingly, sprayed the front of his white apron with red juice. Such 'blood spatter' likely to offset any homeliness or underestimation that his outward appearance may have offered before.
Though his security is evident throughout the entire complex- he simply told Richard Cardinal to 'walk in' when they first spoke. They know he is coming, they know to expect a man that should want to stroll on inside. Then again, if he needs help finding it, surely one of the many brutes will jab a pointer finger in the right direction.
As he was invited to do so, well, that's just what Richard Cardinal does. He's wearing a suit this afternoon, a rather unassuming grey in hue, and it's a good fit if not obviously custom; no ostentatious shows of wealth or power here aside from the simple confidence that he exudes as he walks in without pause or hesitation. Once he's inside, he looks to one of the thugs on duty, bringing a hand up and drawing the ray-bans down the bridge of his nose to regard the man over their edge.
"d'Sarthe," he asks curtly, and he appropriately pointed in the right direction.
Before long, he steps into the kitchen, watching as the tomato's sliced into deft slices one at a time. "Making sauce," he asks casually, then, head canting towards the cutting board, "Or salad? Bruschetta, maybe?"
Having expected nobody else, Gideon does not bother keeping his attention on the doors; even if he did, the little dog would be doing so anyway. It does not last long after Cardinal speaks- the quiet, that is- Richard is rudely cut off by a yipping creature appearing about three feet away from him. Something between a chihuahua and a terrier, perhaps. It doesn't actually seem too threatening. Gideon pays it no mind even if Cardinal does, his lips pursing and his brown eyes looking sidelong to the man that approaches him. Even as the moment lasts mere seconds, Gideon has enough time to examine him thoroughly.
In contrast, the apron, jeans, and sleeveless back shirt do little to portray d'Sarthe as anything above a thug. Until he speaks, that is the gist. When he speaks, his voice is the same old gravelly accent- but his stirringly patient cadence is one of a man that fits a station such as the one he was described in.
"You may call me Gideon. For now. Pablo, etre tranquille-" The older man turns to bark down at the small, totally un-frightening dog. It stops, if barely.
"You seem to be more well-dressed than how you were described to me. I envisioned you less so." A compliment is a compliment. Take it.
"A man dresses for the occasion," Cardinal replies smoothly, one shoulder lifting up into a shrug before he looks down to the tiny dog with more than a hint of amusement. Once it's quieted by the bark from d'Sarthe, his attention drifts back up to the other man, the hint of a smile curving his lips.
"And appearances can often be decieving. I understand that you have a history with our mutual friend Daniel…"
With a few more determined snips of the knife meeting cutting board, the tomato is sliced into fine layers. There is a plastic container nearby that Cardinal likely does not notice until Gideon has taken it up to deposit the tomatoes inside. Somehow it is not too strange to see his hands covered in what looks like bloody water. Especially when a small scowl comes over his roughened features.
"He has not been my 'friend' for many years." d'Sarthe growls this out, his inflections working it angrier than usual. "Il etait un imbecile. Not only has he made history with me- but he has made history. Terribly."
"I was being euphemistic," Cardinal points out, although he's sure the other man already knows that, his head shaking slowly, "I agree, of course, he's a complete bastard… what's your particular beef with him, though? I suppose I should know if we're going to possibly be working together."
A pause, and he says, "Mine's his… dabbling in politics in ways that I disapprove of, for the most part."
"The finer points of my past you are not privy to. But I will say one thing-" Gideon turns enough to consider Richard with both eyes now, knife down and hands knitting through the already stained white of the apron, wiping the debris of culinary war from his fingers. Now that his hands have paused, Cardinal can see the tattoos on parts of them- matching in ink tones to ones on his arms, and those peeking from under his black shirt. A flick of his head puts a tangle of blonde-tinted brown hair away from his eyes, and his hand follows to brush it back further.
"I can agree with you, monsieur Cardinal."
"Then it seems we're in agreement on one point, at least." Cardinal's head tips in a slow nod towards the other man, his own eyes hidden behind the expensive shades that he's wearing, "And that might well be enough to work with. We're both businessmen, after all. I do have… one concern."
A delicate pause as he turns his head to look over the kitchen, pointing out casually, "I'm curious as to what your intentions are for moving into the city, above and beyond striking at your… old friend. I don't want to take a chair only to find someone standing behind it with a knife."
He smirks, "Well. So soon, anyway."
"If you help me get rid of Daniel, we shall be equals, never rivals." The boss makes this abruptly clear, fingers fishing for the tie of the apron after he puts a lid to the plastic tub. His movements are as measured as always, his gaze deliberate. "I have Chicago, and I have New Orleans-" Gideon says his French words the French way, so perhaps it shall take a moment to parse his pronunciation. It adds on when he uses a second strange pronunciation. "Daniel has Nevada, New York- he does not deserve it, pas du tout. I am only looking to make sure he does not keep what he does not deserve."
In the end, however, he may take some bites of the sandwich, but only after Cardinal and his ilk have done so first.
"I'm glad to hear that," states Cardinal in quiet, serious tones, "I'd prefer that things stay that way. I'm an easygoing sort of guy, Gideon. You deal square with me, I'll deal square with you. Like professionals." The barest ghost of a smile touches his lips, "And ol' Daniel will be out of both our hair before you know it."
"We were never anything but, you and I." When Gideon allows a faint ghost of a smile in reply, it seems offhandedly more of an old lion curling his lip than a man expressing himself. the apron hanging over one wrist, his musculature becomes far more clear; for an older man, he is not only as fit as a fiddle, but that allusion which Kain gave to Cardinal about his power does not seem as much overstating it. It only adds to his image, on one hand- on the other, it makes that thuggishness he appears with even worse.
Lucky that he is so well spoken.
"This will all be finished come autumn." d'Sarthe motions one calloused palm to the kitchen, and the building by proxy. "And I will be in the city- full time. I have no doubts that Daniel is already getting his hackles raised, In private, bien entendu." The thought makes him laugh. The noise is a rasp, same as his voice.
"Oh, if you think he has his hackles raised now…" That smile curves into a wolf's smile upon Cardinal's lips, and he brings one hand up to the ridge of his brow and away in a light gesture, "…you haven't seen anything yet. Anyway, I should let you get back to supper, and settling in here…"
A half-turn, a smile tugging up to the corner of his lips, "We'll be in touch, mm?"
"I have felt his talons in my back, his teeth on my throat." Gideon laughs, louder this time, rather like a bark. "I think that it is you who has yet to see something." And he leaves it at that, gesturing vaguely at the air when he continues.
"You know where to find me, monsieur Cardinal. I look forward to the next time being much more- progressive."