Threats, Lies, and Melting Ice Cream


mortimer_icon.gif tracy_icon.gif

Scene Title Threats, Lies, and Melting Ice Cream
Synopsis Tracy gets in her Lexus to drive home, and there's a creeper in the back, making strange threats with glowing eyes.
Date May 26, 2009

Tracy Strauss' Lexus

It's a hot piece of car!

Using information from a certain member of his gang, Mortimer waited for the time of day when Tracy has to leave her office the least. There's nothing obviously wrong with her car, and he's very well-hidden, but as soon as she steps in and closes the door, before she even has a chance to lock it herself, they all automatically lock shut. And she'll find that her keys no longer work, they can fit into the wheel, but they don't turn at all. She's trapped!

And she's had a crappy, crappy day. Tracy isn't about to let the brand new Lexus go without a fight. "Come on…" She grumbles, trying to get the engine to turn over, some lights to come on, something. She slips the keys out and tries again. Attempts to clean the keys, in case there's some dirt wedged in them. Still nothing. But Tracy is one cool cat, she isn't abut to slap the wheel or curse or anything. "Oh what the hell…" She manages, trying to open the door. Okay, now this is weird. She tries agian, thrusting the weight against the frame. Nothing. She tries again.

Sitting up in her back seat, holding what looks like the remote control for an RC car, just, a bit larger, Mortimer flicks a switch, suddenly starting the car. His left hand is obviously fake, but he can grip with it, idly beginning to move the car forward, the wheel turning on its own. "Tracy Strauss. My name's Mortimer Jack, there's a few things we've gotta discuss. And don't go doing a silly thing like pepper spray or mace, well, unless you think you can figure out how to use this remote control before we crash."

Tracy starts, a little. After all, it is one thing for your car to tweak out. Even a brand new Lexus. It's quite another for a creepy man to pop up in your back seat. So yes, she starts. Don't judge her. But she doesn't turn around. She doesn't scream. She puts her hands at 10 o'clock and 2 o'clock on the wheel and eyes him, her gaze almost lazerlike through the rear-view mirror. "At least you people are getting origional. I'm sick of strangers showing up on my lunch break." But Falafel Burt loves the business! "What do you want?"

"First, you are very very hot, much hotter than he's always going on about." Who's 'he'? Mortimer doesn't say, he just continues driving, out of the lot, and on to the street, making sure to take the smaller roads with the least traffic. "Now that that's out of the way, I want you to use your connections with the president, or whatever other connections you have, to get me a list of all the known major criminals on Staten, and whatever information you have on them."

Well, hey, if you're about to die? Flattery is still always nice. But Tracy's hands tighten on the wheel, gripping it with a white-knuckled grasp. "I'm so glad to know I've got a fan club," She responds, dryly. "But let's be reasonable here. I don't have that much pull outside the executive branch." Yes, she does. But she's bluffing, still watching him through the rear view mirror. If nothing else? She'll memorize him. "Do you have any idea how many names you're talking about?"

"You work for the president, and you're hot. Come on, we both know you didn't get that far on your Masters from Harvard. Women like you, you hear things, and if you haven't heard it yet? I'm willing to bet you could if you wanted." Even if he believes her, Mortimer clearly doesn't care, he's convinced she could if she wanted. Working for the President. "I don't care about the small fries, I just want a nice large list of the juicy ones that the cops wanna sink their teeth into. I'd like you to hurry up and agree, so I can proceed with my next offer."

"Is that next offer going to be you getting the hell out of my car?" She asks, taking a moment to glance back at him. Not that she hasn't seen him yet, but just to see him without the displacement of reflection. "And if I say no? Just out of curiousity, mind you." Her tone is a little dry, if she's afraid she's trying damn hard not to show it.

"Damn, that's a good question. Since you're innocent, I guess I can't threaten to murder you, though I could lie. Yeah, I'll lie, let's go with that." Mortimer decides, thinking completely out loud, the car heading pretty far away from where ever Tracy was intending to go. "Alright, if you say no, I'll kill you! Now, I could be lying, since I just said I'd lie, or I could just be crazy. Do you feel lucky? And no, that's not the offer, I'm not getting out until after the offer."

Alright, Tracy is afraid of death, just as much as the next person. "Sure, and then I'll lie and say I'll do exactly what you want." She says, managing a smirk for her story. "So, now that we've both agreed to do what the other wants, I give you the names and you let me live, what's the next offer? There's an early curfew and I'd like to have at least one martini before I head home." Tracy is not nearly so brave as she sounds. But she tries.

"Good, and remember, I'll be checking on you for the list." Mortimer speeds the car up a bit, quickly turning it down another small street, then down a larger empty street taken up by a few abandoned warehouses, driving quickly through the large doors of one of them to skid to a halt right in the middle, keeping a foot pressed against the back of the passenger chair. "You work all day, live for your job, I'm taking a guess that you get boned by god knows who, for the sake of a career. Your life, it's, well, you're not very free. Where do you expect to go? Be the first lady? Get rich? More powerful? And what are you gonna do with that? I can offer you complete freedom, a life you can only dream of." He looks into that rear view mirror, eyes suddenly turning completely silver as he looks into her's. "Of course you'd keep your current life, but you'd also be doing something you can really love."

Okay, now she's really scared. The first part seems just a joke up until the second part…which makes the first part seem a lot more serious. Her chest, which he's probably stolen a gander or two at, starts to rise and fall in quicker succession than previously as she watches his eyes. Great, she thinks to herself. I'm on the shit list for the Evolved and Humanis First. What did I do to deserve that? But she just waits, watching him a moment. "I don't know if you're aware of this, but I love my life. I'm good at my job, I love my job." Still, she's very curious to hear what he has to say.

"You have to follow a lot of rules and norms of society, I can offer you things that you can only dream of doing. Angry at that guy from accounting? Sure, why not, let's just fill his entire house with molasses, or if you're the really malicious sort, burn it down. Though I can't kill anyone, because of this woman I like." Mortimer says with a swoon, a swoon, then starts playing with the buttons on his RC, turning the wipers on, messing with the radio. "Always wanted to see what happens when all the ice cream in an ice cream factory melts? We can do that. Sex with twenty men? Sure thing. Be a princess? Yeah, we can do that too. And if you love your life so much, name five things you love about it."

Actually that part's easy. "My job. My boss. Sex. Dry martinis." And for the last one? For the last one she turns around to face him, eyes turning blue, brighter blue, almost to crystal. Odd? Perhaps, but it could just be the light. "And having enough to do in a day not to wonder about melting ice cream in a factory. Now, get. Out. Of my car."

"If I wasn't trying to get this other woman, I think I'd be in love right now." Mortimer flicks a switch, his door unlocks, then he drops the remote control into her passenger seat, opening the door with his fake hand to step one foot out. "But if things don't work out with me and her, well, I love a stern business woman." Then, he steps out, closing the door and leaving her others locked. Apparently he expects her to figure the remote control out. "I'll be back for the list!"

"Don't hold your breath." She murmers to him just before he closes the door. Then she looks forward, letting out a displeased little huff. Yes, she's not a happy camper. And now? She has this…remote thing. Lifting it up, she presses a few buttons, wrinkling her mouth in frustration. She's a spokesperson, people, not the DCIA!

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