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As arranged, Jack's snagged a table at one of the fancier coffee shops downtown. He's dressed casually, black jeans and a union polo, his leather jacket hung on the back of his chair while he sips an oversized coffee. His mien flickers and shifts as he eyes the door, a hundred gesture drawings sketched in charcoal.
Makoto Mori arrives precisely when she agreed to arrive. She's dressed in her usual fancy way - dark three-piece suit, well coordinated tie and pocket square. Memento steps into the coffee shop, nodding to Jack before ordering a drink for herself - and then making her way over to the table. She slides into the chair opposite his, and her three tails swish through the air behind her in hypnotizing patterns.
"Mister Martingale," Memento coos. Her lips spread into a vulpine grin - and her fangs and claws clash terribly with the appearance of wealth and manners. "It's nice to finally meet you in person."
Jack goes to stand when she addresses him, holding out a hand for her to shake. His eyes follow her tails for a second before settling on her face, and he nods.
"Miss Mori, I'm guessing?" He gives her a small smile. "'S a pleasure."
"The one and only." Memento takes his hand - careful with her claws as she does so - and gives it a firm shake. "Likewise."
She peers at him with those dangerous, vertical slit eyes of hers. "Shall we get to it, then - assuming you're comfortable answering questions in public?"
"Depends on the questions." He sits back in his chair and his mouth twitches upward again.
"Well, initially I'd wanted to ask you about your work with the union - and to perhaps provide my services as an attorney in your pursuits." Memento interlaces her fingers, tapping her thumbnails together with a soft little clicking sound. "... but now I have other questions. About certain individuals you may have had history with?" She quirks an eyebrow to see if he's following her line of thought.
"Well I'm hoping we're not gonna need a defense lawyer anytime soon, Miss Mori - unless you know something I don't." His tone is light, like he's mostly making a joke. But there's a hint of a real question there.
"Again, depends on the...individuals. And assuming you're not here in an official capacity, working for 'em."
"You never know which way the wind will blow when... certain individuals are involved with these sorts of negotiations. Not that I believe you - or yours - would do anything disreputable, but I followed the story about the Fashion Show, and I figured I'd make my offer. Just in case."
Her smile grows wide, showing off all of her very sharp teeth. A gesture that might seem comforting under normal circumstances, but when Ms. Mori does it it just seems hungry.
"I was referring to Miss Cordray, of course. Now, I'm not looking into this in any official capacity, mind you - I'm just a concerned member of the Freehold who happens to care very dearly for someone you're associated with." Beat. "Which means that now, I feel somewhat obligated to watch out for you, too."
Jack eyebrows raise. "Member? Already?" He takes a sip of his coffee, impressed. "You looking for a return, on the...obligation to 'watch out' for me?"
"It was a bit of a shotgun wedding." Memento's lip curls into a look of genuine amusement for just a split second before returning to that terrifying smile of hers. "... but no. Not at present." She flutters her eyelashes innocently. "Currently, it's just a favor for a friend."
"Hmm." It takes him a moment, but eventually he nods. "Not much I can say to that, is there. This...Friend from Chicago, mm?"Another sip of coffee. "You come all the way out here just for them?"
"Got it in one." Memento's ears twitch. "... but I'm here for multiple reasons. Most are from Chicago, yes, but I'm largely here for business. I sense that Philadelphia will be a goldmine in the coming months."
She taps her claws together again.
"Dunno what I can say about that - shit's been blowing up for me, lately, but it's not what I'd call a goldmine." He huffs. "But I guess I oughta thank Ms. Cordray," he grimaces, like even the name alone leaves a nasty taste in this mouth, "for reminding me that safety's an illusion, and all that."
"Your skill set and my skill set are very different." Memento offers a simple little shrug and that's all she has to say on that matter. "For what it's worth, that illusion goes both ways - and I would instead consider Miss Cordray's intrusion a reminder that your security can always be tighter."
"Well if I had doubts about our mutual friend before..." Jack huffs out a laugh. "And I can see how Philly might be a goldmine for someone like you. I don't think there's enough security in the world to keep Her safe, at this point. How much d'you already know?"
"A great deal - both about her mundane holdings and otherwise." Memento leans in, dropping her tone to a whisper. "I wouldn't worry too much, Mister Martingale. Anne-Marie Cordray isn't bulletproof. If she was, she'd likely still be operating in San Francisco instead of darkening your doorstep."
"As much as she did her homework on me, she's got some...misconceptions about this town. And apparently, the way her own...group operates. That I only know from hearsay, but 's from people whose opinions I tend to trust."
"She didn't do her homework on you, Mister Martingale - if that helps you feel safer. She knew things about me that no one should know - through several layers of deception." She leans back. "... and my paper trail is very thin, so I imagine that Miss Cordray is cheating to figure out that information."
There's something about the way she says cheating that implies she isn't referring to mundane means.
"Oh no, she definitely did, for most of the mundane shit. Picked up some out-of-date information on the way, that she'd know the truth of if she'd cheated there. Pretty sure she also did that, even if my paper trail isn't as thin as yours."
"Well. Not that it'll help much with Miss Cordray, but you and I can look into making sure the next Anna-Marie who comes along cannot dig up information about you as easily as she did." She flashes her teeth. "I have special rates for friends and family."
"If you were coming here to ask about the union, you probably know that one of the venues is on strike - work's scarce, I highly doubt that's the sort of thing I'd be able to shell out for." He shrugs, not seeming too upset to have to turn her down. "Like I said, she got shit wrong. I don't think she knew I wasn't..." he gestures to the general populace, "'til I walked in."
"Oh, I'm well aware, Mister Martingale." Her smile doesn't budge an inch. "You were wondering when I'd come looking for that favor? Well, I trust that you'll keep my name in mind if your Union runs into legal trouble." She flashes a business card from the inside of her jacket pocket. "You know. Since we're friends and all."
"...And if I don't choose to keep your name in mind?" His eyebrows raise.
"Like I said, Mister Martingale." Golly gosh, Memento's teeth sure are sharp and creepy. She places the business card onto the table and slides it towards Jack. "I trust that you'll keep my name in mind." Beat. "Now that we're friends." Beat. "... and I wouldn't worry about forgetting. It's right there on the card."
He drains the rest of his coffee. "If I didn't know your friends, I'd know exactly who I'd compare you to, Miss Mori. And I might just, anyway." His voice is conversational, though his face is pretty expressionless, and he takes the card.
"If you don't have any other questions, my break's almost over..."
"Do - and say - what you will, Mister Martingale. I'm not here to change you." Memento takes a sip of her own coffee for the first time since sitting down. "... but keep in mind that you'd much rather have me as an ally. Have a nice rest of your shift - and I'll be in touch about what we can do to minimize the amount of personal information you have floating around out in the world."
"Yeah...I get the feeling I don't wanna be on your bad side." He sighs and stands. "And at least you've got a few redeeming features. Like the company you keep." He cracks a smile at that, obviously joking now, rather than bristling.
"See you 'round - or not - which should I be hoping for, for my own sake?" Another grin, and he's picking up his coat and walking to the door with a small wave.
Memento does not respond to his question, instead fixing him with an innocent smile and a wave of her clawed fingers. Once Jack has gone, Makoto Mori turns to the window, enjoying her coffee - and the view - in peace and quiet.
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