|
Mearc's quiet as he walks alongside Memento. Stewing, perhaps, his freckles wavering between their greener tones and red ones, in a way that shows animation. "So, I know I'm not actually the reason you're here. What's the game, Ms. Mori?"
Memento, true to form, is already opening a green and gold cigar case within seconds of leaving the bar. Her lighter comes out, and the case is returned to her jacket pocket. She quietly puffs for a moment - trying to get the flame to light - and letting Mearc's question stew in the air for a moment. "I'm going to have to look up that thing about the city-wide smoking ban. I feel like it's probably not entirely accurate." She exhales a cloud of smoke away from Mearc. "... and I wouldn't say you're not the reason I'm here. Just not the whole reason."
"Alright then. How can I be of use to you?" Ah, he finally settles on the green, adjusting the cravat slightly.
"Oh, don't feel obligated. I don't need you for anything except your company at the moment - and rest assured, I'd let you know if I needed more." Beat. "Chicago wasn't holding my interests anymore - and Philadelphia presented me with an interresting opprotunity, so. I decided to follow up on it."
"I see." He nods slightly, keeping his voice quiet as they walk. "Opportunity awaits here. There is plenty, I think, to interest you. Italian mob...the head of whom may have a strong dislike for a certain Winter Courtier. Vampires. Some of whom I've managed to befriend, one of whom is causing significant problems; she's who I was referring to inside. There's a theater union striking right now. What else would be worth mentioning, that you'd care about...?"
"If you're implying that I might be interested in working for organized crime, I resent that implication." Her tone is playful, but her smile is deadly sweet. "I don't think my partner would appreciate me slandering the name of their firm by association." Beat. "Though I did see the interview Channel Six did with Mister Martingale. It might've escaped my notice under normal circumstances, but... they're hardly normal circumstances."
She takes another puff of her cigar. "I'm sure I'll think of something else to care about, but I've an unrelated question, if you'll indulge my curiosity?"
"Mister Martingale is the one being targeted by the vampire. He's my...he's a good friend of mine." He grimaces at his own slip-up. "What's the question?"
"My question can wait for the moment." Memento quirks a brow. She's got a new tail to chase. "He's your what, Mearcstapa?"
The hesitation here is thick and heavy, and when he finally does speak, he's looking way off to one side, rather than sort of almost pretending to make eye contact (usually, he watches her ears instead of her eyes).
"He's my metamour." Which is really weird to hear coming from someone who didn't fucking date in Chicago much at all. Oh, there were rumors of some attempts, but nothing that would lead to a paramour, let alone a poly arrangement.
"Fascinating... and when did this occur?" Memento's eyes have dilated to accommodate the low-light conditions outside - leaving her looking very much like a predator, though it's through no fault of her own. "It would seem that Philadelphia has been good for you - cravat aside." She's still not laughing at the clothing, at least.
"The, uh. outfit is something I borrowed from my other partner, the one that's not dating Jack, after sleeping over at his place last night." The green dims out of his mien, and the effect of the remaining red freckles could be taken for a blush, almost. I mean, it's not, but it could be taken for one.
"Even more fascinating - not to pry into your business or anything, but I would never have thought you the, ahh..." She waves her hand, fishing awkwardly for an appropriate - and hopefully innoffensive term. "Type? I'd never seen you have a relationship let alone... four? If I count correctly?"
"Two partners, one metamour. I...this is the awkward part about people from Chicago finding me here, I suppose. Yes, no, that wasn't typical back there." He rakes a hand back through his hair.
"Sorry, must've included a fourth by accident," Memento takes a puff of her cigar to hide her smile, but there's a little twinkle of mischief in her eyes that she can't quite hide. "I'm glad things are better for you. You seem happier now - and that is a good thing as far as I'm concerned." Beat. "Over the phone you mentioned that you were planning to dump problems into my lap. Is that why you seemed happy to see me?" She quirks a brow. "Rarely are people excited to see Memento Mori - unless fucking with something is liable to make it better rather than worse."
"I mean, we have a vampire trying to strong-arm one of the Spring Court. I've already got some friends looking into her, but if you'd like her business card, in order to attack on another field...I'm just saying. The situation has me pretty tense right now, and I'm trying to be as useful in connecting the dots as possible." Pause. "And I missed you. Honestly, that you're here is...really nice."
"Aww, did you really miss me? I'm surprised to hear you say that." Beat. "... but I would love her business card. Especially if it'd help you feel more at ease about the whole thing." Memento's toothy smile grows into something more actively predatory.
Mearc reaches into a pocket of his messenger bag, rifling through a few business cards before finding Anna-Marie's.
"Wealth Management, hmm?" There's a light little snort that escapes her as she reads over the card - which then disappears into the pocket of her jacket for later use. "Tell me about her? Beyond the broad strokes of what she's done, and what she is. Anything you know?"
"I'll try to get details from Jack. Others of her like hold her in disdain. Her mannerisms are cloying and demanding at the same time. She seems to be..." A pause, as he pulls out his phone to read a text, and respond. "...also, you're not the only person I've set on her tail, so if you see someone else doing work, I gave my social engineer the go ahead to fuck her up as well."
"Ahh, yes. The social engineer you mentioned over the phone. Pass her my contact information? I'd love to meet your coworkers - and I've already set up a meeting with Mr. Martingale to discuss the IATSE." Memento thumbs the card in her pocket as she walks - staring ahead with a pensive frown. "I suppose I can just tack this onto the growing list of things I want to discuss with him."
"Done, with regard to the co-worker at least." As he texts again. "Go gentle on 'Mr. Martingale'. He's taken a bit of stress on lately, and doesn't need the full experience right now."
"Tragically, I've already given him a bit of the full experience, but I'll do my best to go easy on him when we actually meet." She offers an apologetic shrug. "Oh, and do tell your co-worker I said hello - assuming that's who you've been texting."
"She is. Her, you can go ham with." He flashes a quick grin.
"Delightful." Memento knocks the ash off of the end of her cigar as they pass a trash can. "Do you need a ride home? We can head back to Vertigo, and my driver can drop you off at your apartment on the way back to my hotel?"
"Someday, I will learn the trick of making a polite offer sound like 'you're dismissed'..." He laughs, though. "I'm good. I think I might need some time under the stars to think."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Memento smirks - showing off her teeth again. "If I did, though, I would definitely believe in you. It's an acquired skill, after all." Beat. "... but we part ways here, then - so enjoy your time under the stars."
She stops at the crosswalk with him - but does not continue onwards when the signal lights up. "... and it was lovely to catch up, Mearcstapa. I'll be in touch."
"Indeed. Wren will get in touch with you on Signal later. Good night, Memento Motherfucking Mori." He offers a bow--with what he's wearing, it's only right.
|