Post by Deleted on Apr 13, 2017 14:35:03 GMT -5
Location: The Streets of Bean, Bean, Woode, Sinis
Jan 2, 7000
10:00 am, Sinis time
Slowly, the man shuffles down the streets of Bean. He's in a dark blue suit, a green tie hanging low. He would be very tall, except for the slouch, which cuts off about a foot of his height, although he still appears tall. His hair is moderate in length, striped in orange and black, and combed around nicely. He knows where he's going. No looking around. Until he gets to the clocktower. This, he looks up at. It's a landmark of this part of Bean. The darker, more boring part of Bean, less glitz, less glam. He stares up at it, waiting. The bells begin ringing, and he pushes the doors open to a small, inconspicuous building next door. There's just one room in this small building. A long conference table, and chairs. Seven chairs, four of which are occupied, three are empty. At the head is a young woman, lean, dark skin with platinum blond hair, Althea. She nods slightly to him as he enters... to her right, and empty chair. The one she normally sits in. To her right, also empty, for him to sit in. Second to her right, another short young man, thin, with auburn hair... Havelock, who controls the majority of the banks in Bean. Across from him sits a curly blond, again, short... Martha, the crafty widow, who funded her various ventures in the hotel business through her husbands' money. Next to Havelock, again, another short one... a mop of short curly black hair, the young man in this chair is practically vibrating in his seat, Pertinax...the restaurateur of about half of Bean, through various sources and businesses. Solomon, our entrance to this venue, slowly makes his way to the seat to the left hand of Althea, and sits down. "Good morning." He remarks dryly. This isn't a normal meeting, called into existence at a moment's notice...and two people are missing.
"Jean-Claude wishes to give his sincerest apologies, however he was unable to make it today to our meeting," Althea leads off. This isn't true at all. Jean-Claude hadn't apologized at all...but he was useful, and some of these people wouldn't hesitate to use his bad manners to try and remove him from the council. This is accentuated as Havelock shifts slightly...tempted to lead an attack upon him - he has a bad habit of not showing up at any of the meetings anyway, why do they bother with him?
"And this meeting? What is it for?" Is the snapped reply which Havelock chooses to settle for. He's ready for war...one slip up and he'll climb up, he thinks. Or...that's what everyone has come to think he thinks. Because Havelock is an opportunist, who leaves no trail behind.
...
Althea gives him a calm look before continuing. "This...is to remain closely guarded. But Father Gregory has disappeared in the past day. From inside his locked office." She adds, in anticipation of the question that they are all thinking...
Martha gives a mirthful little laugh before asking her own question though, her eyes sparkling. "Are you sure he isn't simply in someone's company?" Pertinax blinks...and then blurts out, "Like...what? He ran off with his ink well? Because mine is not nearly as interesting as his is." Behind that mask of calm, Havelock is disgusted. Martha turns to them before responding. "Not what I meant, hon. I meant... in someone's company." She says, trying to put more meaning into the phrase.
"Of course not." Snaps Althea. Really. They're being ridiculous. "This is an actual problem. We should find him as soon as possible. Because if not..."
"You would doubtless prefer we didn't." Muses Havelock, looking at it slyly. After all...if he dies, it's in charge. He takes a glance at Solomon, who has been silent so far in his seat. His face is a blank sheet of parchment. Nothing to be gleaned. Yet he has known Gregory the longest...grew up with him. Althea had actually usurped his seat...no protest from him at all on that either when it happened.
Althea gives a thin look at Havelock before continuing. "All I've called this meeting for is, for the family to apply its resources to find them. Without alerting the general populace about their disappearance. As far as I'm concerned, this meeting is over."
Pertinax is quivering in their seat, however, and suddenly bursts out. "What about Luther?" Luther...or Lothr. Now, since he's been avtivated. The son of the last leader of the Lévesque family from a considerable time ago...arrogant, and not someone with an ounce of honor to her name. The Lévesques had long given up trying to "acquire" her as a family member. She didn't respect their rules, and that was that. You couldn't be a Lévesque if you weren't prepared to obey a hierarchy, and to keep from killing your family. "Could she be responsible?" They stutter out.
"No." The defendent...here, is Havelock, of all people. "Those are not his abilities, nor his domain. If it's anyone...it's from the inside, or a hitman." His eyes thin, peering around the table over his sharp nose.
Althea nods. "And I think that sums it all up. Reach out. But be cautious." With that, Martha stands up, and bobs, giving a curtsy. "Then I will be the first to leave." And she floats out, followed immediately by a Pertinax, who is shaking and dancing on their way out...looking forward to talk to their household appliances about where Father Gregory went. Havelock continues sitting, watching the other two. Solomon, sitting, watching the table with interest...and Althea pacing the room silently.
Eventually he stands up. "Fine then." And slides out to not look at all. After all, it's to his advantage.
Eventually, Althea sits down across from Solomon, and waits before speaking. "You knew this...would happen." ...Solomon is slow to respond, and he clears his throat before speaking. "No...I know what it was now, but I didn't before."
"And will we find them?"
He gives a dry cough. "That, I do not know. I would hope we find Gregory within a week, though I...am not hopeful that that will be the case."
"...you know you can't let big Y know."
"I know." Is all he responds with, before getting up, and starting to shuffle out.
"Solomon."
He turns, waiting.
"...Father Gregory told me that you told him to jump you in my position on the table. ...thank you. But why?"
Slow to respond, Solomon is thoughtful. "I had my reasons. Greg...would have been in conflict if I hadn't, though. He didn't need that."
And with that, he shuffles out, to make his own inquiries."
...
...
The city races by.
We see the lights of the casinos.
Hear the blasting noises coming from the clubs.
And come to an alley. Jean-Claude is here. In this alley. And is currently engaged in collecting some things off of the unconscious person. He's slightly flushed, green. Slowly he scrapes the paper over the young lady's fingers, and turns it over...yes that's enough. He puts that in a bag. Then starts making little punctures and cuts on her palms. Like she'd fallen over and tried to catch herself. But he's meticulously collecting the blood which oozes out from it. That gets put in a special jar, and also ends up bagged. Then a few hairs, plucked fresh. He's really still a little flushed. He'd had to go a bit farther than usual with this one before they'd passed out. With that he stands up. He'd been thoughtful enough to select a fairly commonly traversed alley to dump her unconscious corpse, so she'll likely be found by a good samaritin in a couple of hours...and she won't remember much. Just getting a drink. And the hangover. She'll have one of those. Time for the last part. This time, he rummages in his case, and pulls out a different bag. Synthesized barf...which he pours over and around her...for all she knows when she wakes up, she had a few too many in the pub. And that's fine. Because she likely won't be effected by any of this. Unless she's unfortunate enough to be in town when they use the samples. But that's rare... he snaps his case shut. He'll fins out what the deal with Althea is later...first, some filing...
Jan 2, 7000
10:00 am, Sinis time
Slowly, the man shuffles down the streets of Bean. He's in a dark blue suit, a green tie hanging low. He would be very tall, except for the slouch, which cuts off about a foot of his height, although he still appears tall. His hair is moderate in length, striped in orange and black, and combed around nicely. He knows where he's going. No looking around. Until he gets to the clocktower. This, he looks up at. It's a landmark of this part of Bean. The darker, more boring part of Bean, less glitz, less glam. He stares up at it, waiting. The bells begin ringing, and he pushes the doors open to a small, inconspicuous building next door. There's just one room in this small building. A long conference table, and chairs. Seven chairs, four of which are occupied, three are empty. At the head is a young woman, lean, dark skin with platinum blond hair, Althea. She nods slightly to him as he enters... to her right, and empty chair. The one she normally sits in. To her right, also empty, for him to sit in. Second to her right, another short young man, thin, with auburn hair... Havelock, who controls the majority of the banks in Bean. Across from him sits a curly blond, again, short... Martha, the crafty widow, who funded her various ventures in the hotel business through her husbands' money. Next to Havelock, again, another short one... a mop of short curly black hair, the young man in this chair is practically vibrating in his seat, Pertinax...the restaurateur of about half of Bean, through various sources and businesses. Solomon, our entrance to this venue, slowly makes his way to the seat to the left hand of Althea, and sits down. "Good morning." He remarks dryly. This isn't a normal meeting, called into existence at a moment's notice...and two people are missing.
"Jean-Claude wishes to give his sincerest apologies, however he was unable to make it today to our meeting," Althea leads off. This isn't true at all. Jean-Claude hadn't apologized at all...but he was useful, and some of these people wouldn't hesitate to use his bad manners to try and remove him from the council. This is accentuated as Havelock shifts slightly...tempted to lead an attack upon him - he has a bad habit of not showing up at any of the meetings anyway, why do they bother with him?
"And this meeting? What is it for?" Is the snapped reply which Havelock chooses to settle for. He's ready for war...one slip up and he'll climb up, he thinks. Or...that's what everyone has come to think he thinks. Because Havelock is an opportunist, who leaves no trail behind.
...
Althea gives him a calm look before continuing. "This...is to remain closely guarded. But Father Gregory has disappeared in the past day. From inside his locked office." She adds, in anticipation of the question that they are all thinking...
Martha gives a mirthful little laugh before asking her own question though, her eyes sparkling. "Are you sure he isn't simply in someone's company?" Pertinax blinks...and then blurts out, "Like...what? He ran off with his ink well? Because mine is not nearly as interesting as his is." Behind that mask of calm, Havelock is disgusted. Martha turns to them before responding. "Not what I meant, hon. I meant... in someone's company." She says, trying to put more meaning into the phrase.
"Of course not." Snaps Althea. Really. They're being ridiculous. "This is an actual problem. We should find him as soon as possible. Because if not..."
"You would doubtless prefer we didn't." Muses Havelock, looking at it slyly. After all...if he dies, it's in charge. He takes a glance at Solomon, who has been silent so far in his seat. His face is a blank sheet of parchment. Nothing to be gleaned. Yet he has known Gregory the longest...grew up with him. Althea had actually usurped his seat...no protest from him at all on that either when it happened.
Althea gives a thin look at Havelock before continuing. "All I've called this meeting for is, for the family to apply its resources to find them. Without alerting the general populace about their disappearance. As far as I'm concerned, this meeting is over."
Pertinax is quivering in their seat, however, and suddenly bursts out. "What about Luther?" Luther...or Lothr. Now, since he's been avtivated. The son of the last leader of the Lévesque family from a considerable time ago...arrogant, and not someone with an ounce of honor to her name. The Lévesques had long given up trying to "acquire" her as a family member. She didn't respect their rules, and that was that. You couldn't be a Lévesque if you weren't prepared to obey a hierarchy, and to keep from killing your family. "Could she be responsible?" They stutter out.
"No." The defendent...here, is Havelock, of all people. "Those are not his abilities, nor his domain. If it's anyone...it's from the inside, or a hitman." His eyes thin, peering around the table over his sharp nose.
Althea nods. "And I think that sums it all up. Reach out. But be cautious." With that, Martha stands up, and bobs, giving a curtsy. "Then I will be the first to leave." And she floats out, followed immediately by a Pertinax, who is shaking and dancing on their way out...looking forward to talk to their household appliances about where Father Gregory went. Havelock continues sitting, watching the other two. Solomon, sitting, watching the table with interest...and Althea pacing the room silently.
Eventually he stands up. "Fine then." And slides out to not look at all. After all, it's to his advantage.
Eventually, Althea sits down across from Solomon, and waits before speaking. "You knew this...would happen." ...Solomon is slow to respond, and he clears his throat before speaking. "No...I know what it was now, but I didn't before."
"And will we find them?"
He gives a dry cough. "That, I do not know. I would hope we find Gregory within a week, though I...am not hopeful that that will be the case."
"...you know you can't let big Y know."
"I know." Is all he responds with, before getting up, and starting to shuffle out.
"Solomon."
He turns, waiting.
"...Father Gregory told me that you told him to jump you in my position on the table. ...thank you. But why?"
Slow to respond, Solomon is thoughtful. "I had my reasons. Greg...would have been in conflict if I hadn't, though. He didn't need that."
And with that, he shuffles out, to make his own inquiries."
...
...
The city races by.
We see the lights of the casinos.
Hear the blasting noises coming from the clubs.
And come to an alley. Jean-Claude is here. In this alley. And is currently engaged in collecting some things off of the unconscious person. He's slightly flushed, green. Slowly he scrapes the paper over the young lady's fingers, and turns it over...yes that's enough. He puts that in a bag. Then starts making little punctures and cuts on her palms. Like she'd fallen over and tried to catch herself. But he's meticulously collecting the blood which oozes out from it. That gets put in a special jar, and also ends up bagged. Then a few hairs, plucked fresh. He's really still a little flushed. He'd had to go a bit farther than usual with this one before they'd passed out. With that he stands up. He'd been thoughtful enough to select a fairly commonly traversed alley to dump her unconscious corpse, so she'll likely be found by a good samaritin in a couple of hours...and she won't remember much. Just getting a drink. And the hangover. She'll have one of those. Time for the last part. This time, he rummages in his case, and pulls out a different bag. Synthesized barf...which he pours over and around her...for all she knows when she wakes up, she had a few too many in the pub. And that's fine. Because she likely won't be effected by any of this. Unless she's unfortunate enough to be in town when they use the samples. But that's rare... he snaps his case shut. He'll fins out what the deal with Althea is later...first, some filing...