Participants:
| Scene Title | Three Men in a Book Store |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Much as the title suggests, three men meet in a book store. Discussions of NYC politics and the NYPD follow. |
| Date | October 27, 2009 |
An independent bookstore
It's a little independent bookstore - the aisles are narrow and cramped, but Fel's yen for books is enough to get him in there, nevermind how awkward it is to negotiate them with a cane and a bad leg. The Fed's not in his usual suit, but in longsleeve t-shirt, gray overcoat, and jeans. Relatively quiet, considering it's not long after work hours - the post dinner rush hasn't happened yet. He's apparently lost in a copy of 'Captain Blood', half-propped against a line of shelves to take the weight off the bad leg.
The presence of a crisp suit suggest that Craig is showing up from a late night at work. He pauses in the doorway after he opens the door long enough to shake off moisture from his umbrella til it can at least be brought in without damaging anything with moisture. He brushes a thumb down the line of his jaw, pad sliding over beard. The man at the register seems to recognize him and moves to carefully pull out a book from a shelf behind the register. Craig moves in that direction with long-legged ease, though his gaze is momentarily caught by Felix as he goes. The briefest moment of mental calculation, and then placement. Recognition. The slightest hint of interest shifts on his expression, but he doesn't address it quite yet; instead, he moves to the counter where it would seem he has a book waiting for him.
Kurt Campbell is already wandering around the store looking through animal ownership books with slight interest. The dark man just seems to be wasting time more then shopping. Seeing Felix he recognizes the slightly creepy man and an eyebrow raises but Kurt is far to polite for his own good and his hand also rises is a half hearted wave of greeting.
Kurt's greeting has Felix looking up from his book with a slightly guilty air, as if he's been loitering too long when he should be getting home. He looks a little perplexed, as if not entirely sure where he recognizes the other man from. Craig hasn't registered on his radar at all, yet, clearly.
Craig's exchange with the owner is sweet and short, full of loving handling of the book as it is presented for inspection, followed with careful wrapping, first in tissue paper, then a more protective box. After it is paid for, Craig turns, eye tracking across Kurt for a brief moment then, finding nothing of immediate interest there, settles back on Felix. He settles in a comfortable distance from the two men. "Excuse me," he says, all politeness.
Feeling foolish after catching the perplexed look from the apparent federal agent Kurt shrugs and grabs the book he was skimming through before heading to the computer science section of the store which seems slightly on the small side. He looks up as someone says excuse me but then is quickly captured by the Linux book again.
"Do I….do I know you?" Fel says, finally, marking his place with his forefinger, and letting the book fall to his side. "I know I've seen you before…." Please, god, don't let this be someone he arrested, back when he was NYPD.
Unbothered by Felix's attention being drawn elsewhere, Craig simply settles in at a nearby bookshelf, his special order tucked carefully in one arm. He keeps an ear turned to the other two, though.
Kurt hums and does give Felix a genuine smile now, "Oh I'm the jackass from the diner a few night ago. You were with the guy with a cane…" He shrugs his shoulder a just keeping a finger in the book to hold his place he continues, "Sorry I'm pretty good with faces."
"No, you're not the jackass. The guy I was sitting with, he's the jackass," Felix says, very drily. "As am I, arguably. You're just a citizen…." He trails off, slants a look over his glasses, and his tone is almost apologetic, as he wonders, "This….I'm sorry to put it this way, but did I arrest you, sometime?"
The last bit of the conversation inspires a smirk from Craig, and he lets one finger trail across the rows of books as he divides his attention.
Kurt chuckles at this but still in a friendly manner, "Oh never been arrested in my life sir so I sure hope not." His shoulders are yet again shrugged, "Oh yeah the guy you were with said you were a fed or something." He remembers.
Fel goes red to the ears, like he's said something terribly uncouth. But he nods to that, as if it were some sort of grim prognosis. "I am," It has the air of a confession. "I mean, I was. Sort of retired, now," He indicates the cane with a motion of his hand. "I used to be NYPD, though. So, now and then when I think I recognize a stranger, it's 'cause I booked 'em."
Something in Craig's expression becomes more sure—and then more pleased with himself. Like he just got an answer right. He turns back to the two men, inserting himself more surely with a firmer "Excuse me" this time. A little calming encouragement from his ability sifts through the air. "You were involved in stopping that bombing, right?" Though its phrased as a question, there is an ease in his tone that suggests he doesn't expect a negative answer.
Kurt nods his head in understanding to the former fed and chuckles again lightly, "Well glad to not be recognized from that sir. Sorry I'm Kurt Campbell." He extends a hand towards Felix just glad to know another person in this crazy city. Then Craig arrives and Kurt raises an eyebrow.
Felix takes Kurt's hand, a little tentatively. "Felix Ivanov." And then he glances at Craig, sidelong. "I….the conflict with the Vanguard, yes, I was involved,' he admits. He doesn't sound proud or preening about it, though. almost nervous, though Craig's manner seems to calm him.
Craig slants a blue gaze over Kurt's raised eyebrow, but the corner of his mouth just pulls wider in response. He becomes the next in line to offer Felix a hand to shake. "Clearly you don't want to be bothered about it. I just thought it'd be an honor to shake the hand of a man who helped save the city." The false admiration comes so easily to his manner it's impossible by most standards to tell the difference, and it's undercut with a touch of wryness for Felix's nervousness.
Kurt yet again feels so out of the loop it's a touch sad. The man's eyebrow stays raised but he starts to flip through the book again absentmindedly.
"Pleased to meet you, Kurt," Fel adds, though he looks back to Craig. "I…it was a group effort, and the media really didn't portray that accurately," he says, quietly. "But thank you," he says, taking Craig's hand, as well. His own is almost spidery in its thinness - he doesn't look as if he'd offer a healthy cockroach much of a fight at this point, let alone a gang of anti-mutant mujahideen.
"The media never does. I'm well aware." Craig's own handshake is firm, though perhaps a bit purposefully weakened giving Felix's appearance. "My boss — Sylvia Lockheart, I work on her campaign—was just talking to me about what an amazing thing it was that you all — your group," he specifies politely, "did for the city." He looks back at Kurt, perfectly polite. "Sorry to interrupt."
Kurt shakes his head to Craig and just says, "Not a big deal…" His interest does peek up at the mention of the mayoral candidate and the next page of the book is flipped a little slowly.
A politician, eh? Fel's expression sharpens, turns a little curious. "And what do you do for her, if I can ask?" he wonders. He shrugs. "We're all here and breathing. That's about all we were hoping to achieve."
"Officially, I'm a political advisor," Craig says, happy with the vague title. He slips one hand into his suit pocket, leaving the other free for the occasional gesture when he speaks. "I'm sure the entire city has enjoyed being able to continue breathing."
That sounds….rather spookish. Fel's expression seals a little, try as he might to keep it polite, neutral. Apparently not a fan of that particular candidate.
Recognizing the expression and smelling the emotion behind it, Craig smiles warmly, almost commiserating, as he lets another whiff of relaxation into the air. "I lend the best of my expertise to get candidates elected," he explains further.
Kurt looks up from the book at this and since he is still a little bit a part of this conversation has no problem saying, "Oh who have you worked for before Sir?" It's directed towards Craig and the young man's voice is neutral despite his particular dislike for the candidate as well.
"Well, you'll never lack for work," Fel says, amused, leaning against the shelves again. He nods at Kurt's question.
Craig names a handful of council members and congressmen. "I've only been in New York a few years," he explains. "I spent most of my time in Washington." His grin sharpens at Felix's comment, eyes discerning. "I'm good at what I do."
Kurt ohs at this and his head nods slightly, "What brought your attention to New York then? Just here because of Lockheart or the whole failing city nonsense?" He's not aggressive at all just questionful.
The Russian snorts. "They've been saying that about New York since the first Roosevelt administration. It never holds true. New York is tougher than they imagine, down in Washington."
Amusement plays on Craig's features as he listens to Felix. "I have every respect for the city. It just provided an interesting challenge to work in."
Kurt does relize his question wasn't exactly answered but doesn't push the subject instead gives Felix an amused grin, "It's a good city in the end. Oh how long ago did you work NYPD?" He asks out of the blue.
"I got shot about four years ago. Transferred to the Feds when I recovered," Felix says, without hesitation. He slants an amused look at Craig. "That's one way of putting it."
"Is that how transfers usually work?" Craig wonders, blithely amused.
Kurt shrugs at the question even if it wasn't directed towards him, "Not normally but the Fed have a habit of looking into the local cops, Sorry my dad was NYPD till the bomb."
Felix shakes his head. "As he said, no, not really. There's something of a rivalry, honestly. I needed to get out of New York, so that's part of why I shifted agencies," He blinks at Kurt. "I'm sorry. Who was your father?"
Craig looks between the two men, interest waning or time pressing. Whichever it is, he excuses himself with a brief "A pleasure," before he turns to head to the door.
Kurt shakes his head as the politician leaves then smiles at Felix again, "Michael Campbell. He was with the force for at least 20 years until he was killed in the 'bomb'.
"I remember him. He was a good man. We lost a lot of good men and women, that day." It's really merely a platitude, but Fel seems genuinely mournful about. They were his comrades, even if he wasn't well-loved.
Kurt nods his head solemnly at this as well, "Yeah to many people, my family was to close at the wrong time. I was away at MIT, but anyways you don't want my life story." He chuckles a touch nervously, "But thanks."
"No, it's good," Fel murmurs, though he does look weary. "Listen, if there's every anything I can do for you, let me know," He fishes a business card out of his pocket, hands it over.
Kurt nods his head and takes the card and slips it into his wallet, "Thanks sir." He chimes though not to hyper after the other man weariness, "If you need anything I'm normally at the alley cats, don't have a fancy card on me." He grins.
"I hear you. Take care," Fel says. Made a little abrupt by tiredness, as he turns away.