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Skandra Tyullis ([info]roll_the_bones) wrote in [info]jh_corporation,
@ 2008-03-05 14:12:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
retainer (meredith, leander, ruth)
When you were waiting on a meeting everything was slow time. Skandra wanted to sit in his office and pretend that he had nothing better to do than play cards, but the truth was he did. They were supposed to be meeting with some rich writer today about an AIA problem she was having. Probably her robot butler went AWOL with her bank account information. It wouldn't be the first time a rich snob had come into Skandra's place of business and looked down on him just long enough to underpay for his services, but somehow the haughty women were always worse than the haughty men. Men wanted to be like Skandra, run a business like this and fuck people up like he did. Women were just annoyed that their husbands were less manly than Skandra or Leander, so they treated both like shit to make up for it. Skandra didn't know how that logic processed, but there it was. All morning he'd been bugging Meredith, paging her desk phone with their two-way intercom to ask if the guest was here yet. So far she hadn't showed up, but that could change any time. Meredith had stopped pointing out a long time ago that she could call him, so if the lady got here, she'd page him.

It didn't do any good.

"She here yet?" Skandra demanded in an annoyed voice.

"No sir, Mr. Skandra sir."

The line clicked off. She was being a bitch today, wasn't she? Taking a day off after the incident in Manhattan was still the right thing to do, even if it hadn't done much to improve Meredith's mood. Sooner or later Skandra was going to figure out why she was such a hag, and the day he did, he was going to tell her that he knew her secret while he fucked her brains out. Meredith wanted it, just didn't realize it yet. This was her way of compensating for those unconscious desires. Sexual harassment law being what it was prevented Skandra from saying any of that out loud, but if anybody in this office wanted a piece of him Skandra hoped it was her. Since the alternative was, y'know, Leander. And... somehow he just had a hard time picturing that scenario playing out in his head. Thank God. Cheating at Solitaire was great because it wasn't really cheating. You were playing alone, and if you agreed with yourself that a particular rule needed to be discarded, you could do so at any time without penalty. That was part of the reason he never lost a game of solitaire.

Ever.

One newspaper after another had been calling them. All wanted to know what happened to those trannies in Manhattan. He'd also received some fan mail. A few pieces from some guys who not only worshiped the Raging Bull but wanted one of their own and asked where to get it - the rest were death threats from black transvestite hookers, who apparently had some sort of information network. When the cops offered to run them down, Skandra had jokingly informed them that his gun had a '+2 against black transvestite hookers'. Nobody got the joke anymore, which was too fucking bad in his personal opinion. Could be pretty fun if you just paid attention to what was being said and when. Ruth something. He'd never read any of her books. Probably one of those that wrote about women have sex with AIAs who developed feelings. It was startling how often it happened in fiction, AIA or robots developing feelings and sentience. They were machines built for one thing.

Just one.

And if you denied it you wound up dead.

After the fourth or fifth "He say you Brade Runnahhh" joke - which Meredith and Leander were apparently too young to understand - Skandra had just gone back to his office and stopped asking questions about this writer woman. Soon she'd be there, and Skandra would have free rein to ask whatever he wanted. Maybe she would be old enough to get the 'Brade Runnah' joke, but probably not. Skandra was just kind of annoyed that he was old enough to remember a grim movie's vision of the future as he was living in a future that had too many eerie similarities to the fictional future for his personal comfort. AIAs seemed easier to kill than the bullshit in the movie, though. At least, for now they did. So that was nice. Something to be pleased with.

Skandra pressed the intercom button.

"Meredith! She here yet?"

(Post a new comment)


[info]clerical
2008-03-05 09:36 pm UTC (link)
If only she were a killer. If only. After the 5th or 6th time she would have gone in there with a gun and painted the wall behind his desk with brains and blood and skull fragments! Ungh. Even thinking about it made her feel unclean all over again. Meredith really needed someone to wipe that off her system disc or something. If she were an AIA that was, which would have been nice considering she didn't need that memory. At. All. Meredith busied herself with sorting mail, paying bills, checking off the times Skandra called her with 'She here yet?!'... Honestly. IS she here yet? HAS our guest arrived?

The next freaking time he called her. Meredith was going to point out that the door, the only door inside, made a creak, a really annoyingly creepy creak when opened. You could hear it in any room unless you had music on. She knew. She'd heard it in every room. Why did he have to be so jumpy about it? Why couldn't he be patient? She needed to get him a Game Boy or something. He had to know what Mario was, he was ancient. An emulator, maybe that'd entertain him,. What if he was a Zelda man? She'd find an emulator for that.

What the fuck was Blade Runner anyway? Why did he make jokes like that? Maybe this is what happened when you got old. But he wasn't that old. Maybe it was something else. Her mother had once told her about her uncle who went to 'Nam and how he'd talked crazy. Had Skandra been to 'Nam? She'd have to ask. Eventually. When he stopped being such a jumpy cocksucker.

There he was again, yelling this time.

'Meredith! She here yet?'

"For the.." Meredith would have loved to strangle the phone. "No, she isn't here yet. I told you I'd tell you. Do you think I'm a liar or something? Is that it? Yes, she's sitting here, with the seven dwarfs and your blade runnah. Along with a new batch of Victoria Secret models in pastel swim suits. Oh, and the president." She was really getting sick of this. "Come out here and sit here if it's so important. You can have my desk. I'll go get lunch."

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[info]fight_star
2008-03-06 01:57 am UTC (link)
"Take it," Leir said quietly.

He flexed his forearm and nodded. A smirk spread across his lips, fighting to remain a secret.

"Get in fucking line and get ready to take this shit." He was practically whispering the words into his fist, letting each breath caress his skin with anticipation.

"You too, yes, you, get in on this. Get in here for the real thing."

The movie was muted, but his face danced with its light in the dim office. Skandra was next door, meredith was out in the reception area; and the walls were thin. He didn't need someone finding out what he was doing on company time.

He flexed both forearms. He flexed them so tightly that the muscle practically threatened to burst from his bronzed skin; even 15 pounds above his former fighting weight, Leander Nolan was in better shape than almost anyone. Definitely better shape than anyone you'd simply run into on the street.

He had his sleeves unbuttoned, rolled up to the elbow. His collar lay open. His necktie was thrown haphazardly around the doorknob. There was a rubbery squeek as he rocked back and forth in his leather office chair. His face was bathed in light again.

"On your knees and beg!" he snarled.

In either hand was a forearm strengthener. He gripped the springs, crushing them into his fists.

Bruce Lee sent another hopeless goon to the ground with a fluttering sidekick.

Wednesday was Kung Fu Movie Day.

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[info]rather_write
2008-03-06 04:46 am UTC (link)
It wasn't the kind of neighborhood that an unarmed single woman visited alone, day or night. The only protection Ruth had was the cross hanging in hard lines hidden by her jacket, her suit coat, and the flimsy forest green camisole under that. And her mother's gifted talisman had done nothing to protect her from the AIA. She should have waited. All up the walk to the building, that was the only thought in her head. Should have waited, should have waited, should have waited. David was still being repaired. The bullet holes had left him nearly unable to walk, and Ruth had insisted he go immediately. She insisted on paying. But that meant that she was alone today, and after the cab driver left her on the bum-choked street, all she could keep straight in her head was 'I should have waited.'

But the AIA wouldn't wait for her to find a good hand to protect her.

Her fingers hovered just above the peeling paint on the wall as she walked the corridor to the office that was her destination. Her other hand clenched as tight as her stomach. She shouldn't be this jumpy; it was only the attack. There wasn't danger here, not unless her attacker had followed her. She stopped in the corridor, glanced behind her sharply, then squeezed her free hand again and kept walking.

The door creaked loudly when she turned the knob and pushed. Behind the desk, a beautiful 20-something blonde sat fuming, though at what, Ruth couldn't rightly say. The sound of a TV to her left caught her attention, and there in the chair in front of it was exactly the man she'd hoped to see. Some of the tension creasing her forehead slid away. So Leander Nolan really was here after all. He looked more real than he had on the plasma screen she'd seen him gracing not so long ago. He looked...

The rustling of the personal assistant's clothing caught Ruth's attention again. She smiled, more tightly than she'd meant to, and closed the door behind her. As gracefully as her steps would take her, she moved to the front of her desk. She was nervous. She didn't know why she was nervous. Her fingers dashed lightly at a stray bit of hair. After seven attempts at pulling it up earlier this afternoon, she'd given up completely. It had looked too severe, it had highlighted the hollowness of her cheekbones, it had darkened the darkness under her eyes, and it made her look like her neck would break from the weight of it collected on her head. No, she'd left her hair down, and she was regretting it now.

She was nervous. The dignity she always had managed to carry around with her before had seemed to disappear at the sound of the door creaking. Nothing felt right. Again, she glanced quickly at Nolan. It was hard not to hope.

"I'm here to see Robert Skandra," she said, trying to put some authority into her voice. Trying to sound something other than dead-frightened. To her ears, it sounded like failure.

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[info]roll_the_bones
2008-03-06 06:00 pm UTC (link)
Meredith's latest reply to his query wasn't something to get excited about. Annoying as hell was more the response he was looking for. Having an employee didn't necessarily mean that he wanted to waste his time trying to get them to actually work for him instead of complaining. Or maybe it was that the FBI had sent him a very nice letter telling him not to bother anymore. Well, if he'd known it took one old-school shoot 'em up to get off the case, he would have done that first fucking thing. So this woman, whoever she was, seemed to be the only threat of actual business that they were going to have for some time. Skandra didn't want to fuck it up by being something other than a genial and courteous host. You couldn't really predict what was going to piss people off, could you?

Of course, as soon as the woman arrived, Skandra was out of his office in a heartbeat.

Wearing a cheap suit and looking uncomfortable in it, Skandra was the picture of a guy who either worked too hard or not hard enough. It didn't matter that he still had his physique, or that the suit seemed to fit very well. He looked put upon to even be wearing it. Judging by her appearance, though, she wasn't the kind of person who put a ton of stock in appearances. Skandra was wearing his biggest smile.

Then it faltered.

Leander was doing it again.

Again.

"Hi there. I'm Robert Skandra. This is our secretary Meredith Jackson. You must be Ruth Giancolo."

Skandra hesitated on the verge of offering his hand, and his smile vanished. His right eye twitched, almost imperceptibly. And even if he wasn't looking, it was very clear where his next statement was addressed.

"Hey, Bruce, you think you can bother coming out here for a minute?" Skandra asked loudly. "I mean, if you're not busy going undercover for the Chinese government."

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[info]clerical
2008-03-06 07:24 pm UTC (link)
Sometimes Leander was kind of weird. Everyone had a thing. Meredith enjoyed writing line after line, page after page, of code that neither Leander, or Skandra would have understood. it pleased her to no end to sit back and play around on her PDA while waiting for something to process. But the Bruce Lee movies? and the whispering? It was creepy. At first, she'd really thought it was porn. Really.

And now.

She kind of wished it HAD been porn.

The woman was here, and Skandra hadn't hung up yet, and then he was out there before she could even say hello. She stood up, Meredith fixed the short black pinstripped skirt she was wearing, and then the jacket that matched. She liked what she was wearing, and she looked nicer than Skandra did in his suit. While Leander could probably buy dozens of her suits..

Maybe she should just.

No.

Meredith smiled at the woman, though the woman looked terrified. Must not have been a native, maybe it was the bums, or maybe Skandra. Who knew. Still, Meredith was extending her hand over the desk to the woman. "Just Meredith. Pleased to meet you Miss Giancolo. Can I get you anything?"

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[info]fight_star
2008-03-07 03:31 am UTC (link)
Leir held his breath suddenly. The leather office chair rocked forward. His back snapped straight up. Each fist held tightly closed around its grip strengthener, cupped up near either ear.

They were about to duel in the hall of mother fucking mirrors.

"I mean, if you're not busy going undercover for the Chinese government." Skandra interrupted.

The handles of the grip sticks snapped open. His fingers slipped from the red foam and they spiralled back over his shoulders, into the corners of his office.

He slammed the top of his laptop closed.

"Oh no," he muttered. "Be right there."

Were they aware that he could break all of the joints without also breaking a sweat?

Leander stood and shook the tension out of his hands. Even the strongest springs weren't really enough to challenge him, but if you sat there squeezing them for four hours it was bound to cause some cramps. The chair spun slowly as he walked away from it, and out into the reception area.

He cleared his throat and extended a hand.

"Leander Nolan, nice to meet you."

He had heard his name so often that it sounded fake. It sounded like ti should come with the Japanese bastardization on all the syllables. Learandu Noranu.

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[info]rather_write
2008-03-07 07:07 am UTC (link)
Her first impression of Robert Skandra was that he looked thinner in person than he did on television. The news had flashed his picture more times than Ruth had cared to watch. He was attractive, but it was the dying sort of attractive, the lingering ghost of handsomeness under a face that had seen too many years. Or too many trials. From the short biopic the newsanchors gave him, it may well have been the latter. To say the man had a speckled past would be kind. Kind indeed. He still made her hide a smile when he called out for Leander Nolan.

"Mr. Skandra, I've heard a lot about you. Thank you for seeing me."

When Meredith offered her hand, Ruth took it in a polite handshake. It was easier to face her. There wasn't so much intensity in her eyes as in Mr. Skandra's, even when he was joking. When the assistant asked her question, Ruth was tempted to ask for whiskey. Only a breath saved her, a breath and a thought. Something told her that she just might have gotten it if she'd asked. Immediately. She was sure she didn't want to know what that might mean. But there was something else she wanted, though there was guilt in asking. David was right to ask her not to smoke. Her heart was bad enough as it was, and smoking didn't help it.

"Thank you, Meredith," she answered. "I would kill for a cigarette."

But then even that thought was forgotten because he was there, looking more handsome and more solid than she had imagined he would. No man had any business looking the way Leander Nolan looked. She set her hand in his. An impossible second passed, when nothing was in her head at all. Then it rushed out, a shy nothing, "Pleased to meet you."

Impossible not to hope. She realized she was staring and tried to look somewhere else.

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[info]roll_the_bones
2008-03-07 07:43 pm UTC (link)
Skandra smiled pleasantly and didn't say anything for a long moment. It wasn't the first time a woman had eyeballed Leander hard, but it gave Skandra a chance to inspect her closely. She wasn't healthy. He could see in the mirror every morning, a little more. It wasn't a young, fresh-faced Marine looking back at him. Insomnia was bad these days, and so was the pain on occasion. So looking at those expanding black bags under his eyes - to outsiders he just looked haggard; to himself, he looked diseased - Skandra could see it in someone else. Just like they never really thought it was anything more than booze and stress for Skandra, they figured it was stress for her. What'd she have? Did it matter? It was probably terminal, just like his would be, eventually.

Life was full of fucking breaks, wasn't it?

"I hope you don't mind Marlboros," Skandra offered her his pack, with the Flip-Top Box open to reveal a collection of the signature 'Reds'.

Judging by how quickly she took one, Skandra decided she didn't. And a moment later, having lit her cigarette for her, Skandra turned sideways and gestured to his office with a sweeping motion. Almost as though he were inviting them all to be contestants on a game show. Leander at least looked clear-eyed this morning. Skandra felt like his head was going to explode from the fucking hangover haunting around between his ears.

"Let's have a seat in my office," Skandra suggested, and as he shoved lighter plus cigarettes into his pocket he looked at Meredith with the same smile. "Would you bring us some coffee?"

He didn't have to request the aspirin - judging by her annoyed expression, Meredith knew he was hungover. Skandra's office wasn't the sort of office you would expect from the owner of a bounty hunting company in modern New York City. There was a computer, but with all of its components shoved to one side it was obvious the boss didn't use it very often. All of the cards he'd been using to play solitaire were still out on his desk. Skandra knew Meredith had tried to talk him into playing it on his computer once, but he hadn't done that since he was twenty, and Start menus were a think of the fucking past. Shit, his generation had always thought they were going to keep up with technology. Nobody even used HTML any more, and how many nights had he spent playing around with it because he was on the yearbook committee senior year?

That hand cannon which was normally strapped to his person at all times was hanging from the coat stand, along with a tie that had been knotted and looked like it was pulled off hastily. Bright red, it was sporting a yellow mustard stain in the center; almost as if the entire affair - a hot dog with too much of the condiment, Skandra's open coat and a moment of carelessness - had been arranged by God himself. Two chairs were less divinely arranged in front of Skandra's desk, and two behind it. He didn't really care where Leander or Meredith sat, but the client would by default take the chair across from him.

Suited him just fine.

"So, let's get down to business," Skandra dropped into his chair, and folded his arms against his deck - the cards stayed where they were as though he had every intention of finishing the game when she'd gone. "You said you were having a little bit of trouble with an AIA?"

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[info]clerical
2008-03-08 04:43 am UTC (link)
Meredith shook Ruth's hand and then watched as the woman's eyes went right for Leander. yeah, he wasn't hard on the eyes at all. Meredith crossed her arms momentarily while listening to Skandra. He was hung over, she could tell, just by looking at him. He squinted just a little, a fraction at the light in the office. She nodded a little. She went right to it, picking up a bottle of aspirin from her desk first, then went to making up the tray. Thankfully, they had clean mugs.

The tray was brought into the office only minutes after they all went. Meredith put the tray down right on top of Skandra's game of solitaire, messing it up. She eyed him for a moment, following his eyes down... considering how she was bent over, her jacket had opened a little and her shirt wasn't completely buttoned. Her eyes narrowed for just a moment. The hand holding the aspirin shot to the side of his head, right next to his ear and she shook the bottle, loudly. "Here you go!" She said ever so mock cheerfully.

She set the bottle on the table and went around his desk and sat behind him, crossing her legs. From her pocket she pulled out her PDA. "Trouble with an AIA?" she repeated, showing she'd heard him from a room away. She smiled at Ruth, as if to say go ahead, Meredith was just waiting for the answer so she could record it down.

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[info]fight_star
2008-03-09 03:38 am UTC (link)
There were worse ways to have Kung Fu Movie Day interrupted. She was beautiful, in that tragic-mascara sort of way. And the case sounded interesting.

He held the handshake for as long as the woman did. She seemed hesitant to let go. Her voice was shy. Either she recognized him or he really was as good looking as his mother told him. He gave her a smile when she spoke and nodded towards the office as Skandra spoke.

Leander let Skandra and the woman (Ruth right?) go in first. He followed soon after, speaking quietly to Meredith as she went to get coffee and aspirin.

"Just a water, please."

Leander chose not to sit at first. Instead he leaned against the wall to the right of Skandra's desk, listening intently. Arms folded across his chest, one foot crossed over the other. He watched the fluroescent lights sheen on his polished black shoe.

It was still a little embarassing to be recognized.

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[info]rather_write
2008-03-09 04:45 am UTC (link)
Shameful.

It had been a very, very long time since she'd blushed. Closer now to 40 than to 30, Ruth had no call whatsoever to find Leander Nolen as appealing as she did. She was ten years his senior, and she'd turned her back on the whole painful tableau of love for longer than the difference in their ages. Shameful. When the coffee came, she took a mouthful of the bitter, burning liquid to put her mind off it. But it wasn't so easily done. He didn't represent just youth and strength and masculinity. There was more in him that she saw, selfish or no, and that spark of hope was more attractive than any musclebound man could be to her. More bitter than the coffee she swallowed was her acceptance that yet again she needed someone's help. Maybe if the single day she'd just spent without David's unobtrusive assistance hadn't worn her down to the point of exhaustion, maybe if she didn't feel so damned vulnerable, so damned scared, it wouldn't have seemed as difficult. It was difficult now.

Need. More and more, her days were tinged with the knowledge that the body she lived in was becoming a cage. When the pretty assistant so easily flounced to her chair and gestured, Ruth smiled. She could envy the girl without maliciousness, she could envy the way she flowed from place to place as if gravity were something to play in. She could envy the crystal brightness of her hair - a natural look, effortless. She could envy the way her skin glowed under the yellow-green illumination of the argon and mercury vapor captured in their glass tubes overhead. But she did not hate her for her youth or for her beauty. Ironic... The girl was probably working for little less than minimum wage. There was no hope she would ever afford an apartment one fifth the size of Ruth's suite. And Ruth would have paid anything to have what this lovely Meredith had. She smiled again, with a darkness that she doubted anyone in the room would recognize.

She was wrong. When she turned finally to the man whose services and whose man she intended to hire, she caught Mr. Skandra studying her. The moment slowed and stretched, a dreamscape in electric blue and verdurous slides, and stripped her down to her barest. He knew. Somehow, he knew, despite the care she'd taken to keep her heart condition as quiet as possible. The publisher house wouldn't like paying a woman who could drop dead at any second, and she disdained the idea of selling novels to a public who wanted her work more just because they knew her life was not on a 50-year loan. Vultures... She dropped her eyes, snapped the moment in two, took a drag, and filled her lungs ruthlessly with acrid, dirty smoke. She'd forgotten how to do this. A second later, she coughed indelicately, spewing smoke from her nostrils and mouth. It took a second more for her to regain her composure. More than a second, and more than a few gulps of that bitter sludge swirling in her coffee mug. When she did speak, it was in a rough and strangled voice.

"I apologize, there. I usually smoked lights."

Business. She set her mug down, pinched the Red between her middle and index finger of her left hand, and pulled her purse open. A legal-sized manila envelope appeared in her other hand, then she slid her purse to her feet and leaned forward to pass the envelope to Mr. Skandra. "Inside, you'll find a copy of the police report. I don't expect it to be officially filed until sometime next week, but I was able to arrange a special copy for our purposes.

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[info]rather_write
2008-03-09 05:10 am UTC (link)
"Last evening around 6 o'clock, I was visited in my suite by an armed man looking for any effects of my late father, Richard Giancolo. You won't know his name. He was one of the first bioengineers employed by the JH Corporation to work on AIAs, and his name was usually never on paperwork. I'm sorry to say that I am not terribly familiar with exactly he did... I never did have a scientific mind.

"I hadn't known he was an AIA until David... my assistant... broke a vase on him. It didn't faze him. He was strong, he was..." Terrifying. Her heart had responded to her memory of that figure standing over her with a gun pointed right in her face. Another drag, more carefully done this time, didn't settle her just as well as she thought it would. Ruth turned her head to find Leander Nolen casually propped against the wall, and reminded herself that soon there wouldn't be a reason to be afraid. The assurance didn't settle her just as well as she thought it would, either.

"He ran through the wall. Through all the walls of the suites on my floor. They think he went down a laundry chute afterward to escape the building. He sai-said he'd be back, ah..."

And she stopped altogether, then, and finished her coffee in one long, shaking drought. Business. No reason to stutter, no reason to show them all just how embarrassingly frightened she really was. Business.

"I want him found, Mr. Skandra. And I want protection. I don't trust the police. They don't have the resources, and the corruption is too deep in New York. Until I know who he is and where he came from, I can't... I won't trust anyone but someone I pick myself. I've seen you two on the news more than once. You're not weak. Unorthodox, perhaps, and certainly in need of a few good lawyers now and then, but not weak."

It was easier to talk about the things she knew better. Money. From the coat jacket of her suit, she pulled out a business card. On the back was a figure. She slid the card across the desk, face up. "Of course, this is only a retainer. I expect there will be other expenses. If any legal problems occur, I'll be pleased to provide legal counsel that will represent both of our interests. And then there is the hourly rate for the personal protection services of your business... I'm sure whatever you charge will be reasonable and fair."

She paused, then leaned forward. "Can I count on you, Mr. Skandra?"

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[info]roll_the_bones
2008-03-09 04:08 pm UTC (link)
That was a lot to drink in at once, wasn't it?

Skandra kept thinking about what she'd told him. Through all the walls. Normal AIA products were strong, stronger than humans a lot of the time, but Skandra had never heard of a civilian model being able to run through walls. Especially not several walls at once. He was going to go out on a limb and say the walls were more substantial than the thin-skinned plaster shit they used on a lot of apartment complexes. Doubtful that she lived in one of those pieces of shit, especially not if she was as rich and famous as the amount on the card seemed to indicate. Fuck.

Richard Giancolo had worked on the AIA at JH Corporation.

And now an experimental model - that could run through walls - was going after his kid.

It had to be an experimental model. There weren't any street modifications that could give you that kind of strength, were there? Skandra had never heard of one, and he'd had enough experience with AIAs over the years that he would have. Right? Confidence in what he knew and didn't know was at an all-time low. That being said, the amount written on that card was making her argument for her in a manner of speaking. A lot of money. She wanted protection, and she wanted somebody to investigate what was going on. Skandra glanced at Leander. It wasn't a two person job unless they made it one, but Skandra didn't want to get his liver punched into sausage, either.

Fuck.

"We're not usually in the business of offering protection services," Skandra answered slowly. "And I think my associate, Mr. Nolan, would be better equipped for that sort of job. So I'll leave it up to him. If you want a bodyguard, he's the one to do it - as long as he's willing."

Investigate. Where the hell would he even start investigating that? What was he supposed to do, just waltz into the JH Corporation and ask if they had built an AIA strong enough to punch through one wall after another, an AIA which was now terrorizing the city streets as if he owned them?

Not hardly.

"What do you say, Leander?'

The kid was smart enough to see where this was going, wasn't he? Skandra sure as hell wasn't going to freak her out by giving her his first impression before they'd agreed to do the job. And he definitely didn't want to speak those concerns aloud only to have Leander refuse the task.

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[info]clerical
2008-03-10 05:42 am UTC (link)
Meredith was clicking away as silently as she could muster, but the women had said a mouthful. It took a lot to get it down, and at the comment of going through walls Meredith's eyebrows shot up her forehead in surprise. She'd never heard of something like that. Stronger alloy? Only a bullet could pass through so much, but the momentum behind it.. Meredith was astounded by it. The laws of physics themselves forbade such things. Meredith wanted to work on the figures. Maybe.. Confer with the guys she knew who were more math orientated than she was.

Still.

What in the flying fucking hell was an AIA doing with mods that would allow them to do such things. Sure, there were theories out there, just like about Aliens. Little green men coming down onto earth and stealing cows.. AIA's who could crash through walls and bend steel into bows. Holy computer chip batman. It just.. wasn't plausible. Who would make something like that?

The government.

Likely.

Meredith was most definitely not liking the sound of it, but her cool appearance kept itself in check, at least until the woman was gone. She glanced towards Leander, waiting for what he would say.

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[info]fight_star
2008-03-11 12:33 am UTC (link)
Anyone looking at Leir's face could tell what he was thinking: What the fuck?

First he had almost laughed. Her having an "assistant" named David who attacked intruders with vases was almost too over the top. He had a full impression of David from that one sentence she had given. He was a short, thin, British homosexual who wore orange neckties. He called pancakes crepes and pronounced it vahz. But beyond that, she said the AIA had run through her walls.

"Wait so," he pulled away from the wall as he spoke. He almost asked if she had some sort of asian fusion going on with her interior design, and maybe these had been bamboo or paper walls. But then he realized this was unlikely.

He put a hand to his chin and rubbed at the slight stubble that had grown since that morning. He could definitely run through -one- wall. But he wouldn't get back up after. Or continue on to the next.

"Yeah. I'll do it," he said. There was confidence in how quiet he spoke. Maybe he just wanted to see if he could.

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[info]rather_write
2008-03-11 02:28 am UTC (link)
The time it took Leander Nolan to agree could have been measured in many different ways - seconds, sand grains, heartbeats, breaths - but for Ruth, it took precisely the time for her fingers to curl into her hands and embed eight crescents into the palms. When he at last gave answer, the relief left her feeling like a wrung out dish towel. The sigh was barely there, a less-than whisper almost lost to the high hum of the current that ran through the filaments overhead.

"Thank you," she said.

From that purse, she pulled another envelope. This one was white and thick, packed with glossy brochures about her high-rise apartment suites. Specifically, these advertisements covered the high end suites that populated the 45th floor. Her floor. The amenities were vast. The decorations in the brochures were tasteful. There was no price listing. She leaned sideways to pass it to Leander.

"I took the liberty of reserving the empty suite next to mine. If you're amenable, I'd like it if you came tonight. The place is already furnished, but if you'd like to move some of your things over, I'll be happy to send movers for your things tomorrow."

The phone in her purse chimed twice, interrupting her. With a sheepish smile, she drew out the singing bit of electronics and plastic, thumbed a key twice, and paused. A second, then she smiled. David was going to be all right. And he was on his way. 37 minutes was his estimation. She could wait for him; she preferred it over calling a cab.

"Sorry," she said through her smile, fitting the phone back into her purse again. She finished her cigarette and twisted it into the overfilled ashtray sitting on Mr. Skandra's desk. "Ah... I.... I'm new at this. Is there anything else I should..." Say? Do? She looked to Mr. Skandra for guidance.

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[info]roll_the_bones
2008-03-11 03:08 am UTC (link)
Skandra looked from Leander to Ruth with a smile that never wavered, never faltered. That quick. She picked him out an apartment, did she? So she'd walked in here feeling pretty confident, and she had the money to back up the amount written on the card. Skandra stood up from behind the desk, as was the gentlemanly thing to do, and his smile became warmer. Somehow more inviting, but at the same time, a little less so. A dying man's smile, grim sort of thinness to it that just didn't seem quite right. Skandra realized it too, for the smile finally stopped expanding and began contracting. At last.

"No, not at all," Skandra smiled faintly. "Ms. Jackson is going to finalize payment arrangements with you while Mr. Nolan and I have a chat here."

Out of the chair very quickly, Meredith somehow managed to cross the room without looking ungraceful and lead Ruth out of Skandra's office. That was when he noticed the stained tie hanging from his coat rack. Fuck. She must've noticed it too. And it wasn't until the door closed behind the women that Skandra shoved a cigarette between his teeth and lit it. This was going to be a ball-buster, if his gut feeling was right.

When did his gut ever feel right, though?

"The cops gave us that Mossberg you lifted from the Korean joint," Skandra finally said as he dropped into his chair, tossing the lighter carelessly onto the tray. "I've got it and a box of ammunition in a bag, in that cabinet behind you. Better take it with you, and make sure Giancolo's standing behind you when you fire."

A pause.

"This thing is experimental. Probably military. It's not going to pull any punches, so don't even try to take it alive if it shows up looking for trouble."

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[info]fight_star
2008-03-13 03:11 am UTC (link)
Leander didn't expect any punches to be pulled, which was why he had no problem doing it. He wanted to figure otu what this thing was and destroy it.

He found it a little surprising that the police handed them a shotgun, after what had happened. But then again the Koreans probably didn't show up to claim it; cops must have assumed it was theirs.

"Right."

He nodded.

"Hey," he added. "Did you try that whiskey?"

Leander had done some commercials for Suntory Whiskey, back in Japan. You could still see a black and white billboard of the fighter, tie loosened, holding a glass down near his lap. A woman's hand was on his shoulder, but she was mostly out of frame. It wasn't bad stuff. And he had about five cases of it sitting in the store room.

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[info]roll_the_bones
2008-03-13 03:01 pm UTC (link)
Try the whiskey, hell. Skandra had spent the last three days trying to think up a reason that so much of the fucking whiskey was gone. Certainly it was more than a human being could drink in that amount of time. One bottle in his desk, and three or four at home. Just in case he ended up firing the kid; he was stocked up for a while. Smile came easy. Leander was going to be fine. The AIA probably wouldn't be back, and Skandra knew it was going to be difficult for anything to be made of it from an investigation. JH Corporation wasn't going to tell him shit, and neither was the military.

Not that he planned on asking the military.

"Yeah, it's not bad," Skandra admitted as he opened his desk drawer. "You did an endorsement for them? I knew you were hot shit, but I didn't realize you were such a celebrity. They must be selling a hell of a lot of whiskey to just send you five cases."

The Suntory bottle came out, black kanji standing out in the off-white label with silver trim. Overall a very nice bottle, and good whiskey for the price - free was always the best. Fingers weren't as nimble as they used to be, but Skandra still managed to unscrew the cap with only three twists of those fingers. A bit of whiskey sloshed into his coffee, and the bottle disappeared, a phantasm whose appearance had been brief but powerful.

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[info]fight_star
2008-03-16 11:38 pm UTC (link)
"Yeah," Leir said. "Fighting's huge over there, they appreciate the sport--not the way people do here. Americans are obsessed with win loss records, the Japanese are more into character and heart."

He shrugged.

"Not that I lost all that fuckin often though," and he laughed. It didn't sound too cocky, more like he was just joking around. Truth was, it was easy to talk about ninety nine percent of his career. It was the last fight that he wouldn't mention; except in a roundabout way, he just had.

"Y'know what's weird though? I've never had any."

He nudged his chin at the bottle.

"What?" Skandra almost snapped. The reaction only confirmed Leander's suspicion that this was, in fact, highly odd.

Leander took a few steps away from the wall. His hand wrapped gently around the bottle and lifted it. He inspected the label, and then continued.

"Yeah, I mean, the photoshoots lasted a few hours each. So they gave me watered iced tea in the glass; they didn't want me to get drunk in the middle of shooting a commercial. It was fucking hard enough memorizing lines in Japanese without getting buzzed at the same time."

He laughed. He put the bottle under his nose and took a sniff. Didn't smell that bad.

"And even after that, I was on such a tight schedule and diet, the cases they gave me just sat in storage. Shipped some home every Christmas, Father's day."

"Fuck," Skandra said.

Leir nodded.

"But considering the size of the number Writing Girl just wrote down, what the hell, right?"

He turned the bottle up to the ceiling, and took a gulp of it, as if it was still just iced tea. And then he coughed until his eyes watered.

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[info]clerical
2008-03-13 10:52 pm UTC (link)
Smile. Be courteous. She wanted coffee, and a cigarette. But she had a job to do first. Meredith escorted Ruth out of the room, keeping herself between the coat rack and the woman so she wouldn't notice the obvious yellow stain on the tie that had at one time been on her boss. Slobs didn't make a hundred grand for kills. Those 'henchmen' sorts made a lot less than that.

She made a lot less then that. But her high class computer, top of the line, her baby.. Meredith even ran a finger across the monitor as she sat down behind her desk and smiled at Ruth. "They're both really good at what they do. Believe me. Bang up job." More like blown up. She was still dealing with bills and what have you which belonged to Skandra's older cases.

Things she barely knew about and had only half heard in passing. She really needed to look them up some day. Maybe tonight.

Meredith pulled up a document on her computer with barely a click and started to type away. $100,000 for the job. 100 an hour for Leander. She really needed to learn how to kill something... "You already know the price I'm sure." Meredith turned the monitor more towards Ruth. "You can see everything outlined here. Expense reports will be filled out by me, and sent in a timely manner. Leander's by the hour fee is right there." Meredith looked up, but she was still typing away.

"You want another cigarette?" With one hand she fished her cigarettes and lighter out of the drawer pushing them across the desk. When she was done she also pushed a clean ashtray in front of the woman.

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[info]rather_write
2008-03-14 05:16 am UTC (link)
Meredith was clearly very comfortable with her computer. Ruth recognized a lover when she saw one, and there was the same connection between Meredith and her computer... Ruth shared the same bond with her own laptop, but not because of the computer. It was the writing that Ruth adored. For the girl's sake, she hoped that their similarities ended there. Meredith was too young to have given up on a flesh-and-blood lover, too young and too starkly beautiful by far. Again, the envy crept into her. It was easier to dismiss it, however, when numbers presented themselves.

Contrary to what Meredith thought, Ruth had no honest idea how much Leander Nolan's services would be. The stark truth was that Ruth was willing to spend any amount she had available in order to keep from being on the business end of a gunmetal barrel again. The AIA had a strange sort of look to him, one that didn't belong to an AIA, ever. Ever. And he'd been looking at her with that look. He'd been looking at her as if he remembered her. It was a strange thing.... She'd never seen the face before, and she'd never kept (or later hired) any other AIA but David. So how could he have...

Perhaps it was her imagination playing with her. Perhaps she'd seen something in the AIA that hadn't been there in reality. It wouldn't have been the first time, she had to admit. Her mind wandered to the fantastic. It drew her through novels well enough, but the real world... Sometimes it was more difficult to navigate than any written passage.

"It's fine," she said to the numbers on the screen. "Thank you for showing me. And thank you for these." Her too-slim fingers took up the pack of cigarettes - thankfully not Reds - and plucked a paper-wrapped stick out. David wouldn't approve. That was all the more reason to smoke it now, while he couldn't berate her for the admittedly poor health choice.

The exhaustion was becoming painful now. Her chest ached, more than the smoke should have made it, and every movement felt as if she doing it through water. She needed to rest. Soon. But she still had to wrap this business up, and she needed to stay semi-conscious for that at least.

"Good at what they do, I'm certain," she said softly, but not disrespectfully. Long ago, Ruth had learned that the true power in small businesses did not reside in the head of them, but in the assistants that made the whole thing turn. That would be Meredith, then, though Ruth couldn't have said if the girl knew that or not. "But are they good men?"

She'd asked the question neutrally, putting none of what she hoped for in her voice. It was up to Meredith, hardly paying much attention to her now that the computer hummed softly at her, to answer it.

But she hoped they were not. Good men were not what she needed right now.

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[info]clerical
2008-03-15 03:51 am UTC (link)
"There's such a thing as good men?" Meredith asked coyly, raising an eyebrow with a smile. She didn't believe it, not a word of it. There was no such thing as a good woman either. At least, not that Meredith knew of. "I don't think they're good men. It makes them more interesting." Danger was thrilling, after all, to Meredith. She wasn't willing to die for it, but she was willing to break a few nails and scuff some shoes.

Meredith took a cigarette out too and lit it, sitting back in her chair as she moved the mouse around to print out the contract. Meredith visibly relaxed. Comfort around the little sounds of the computer, the sound of the printer off to the side. Thick legal paper printed out, there were plenty of things in small print, but Meredith knew it wasn't some kind of trick, she'd wrote most of it up herself. Along with the insurance company.

Meredith flicked some ash in the tray. She pulled the paper out of the printer with her other hand and set it down in front of Ruth. She pulled a pen out of the top drawer of the desk and set it on top of the paper.

"You'll be fine with Leander, he holds his own, from what I've seen. I heard he was some kind of international star, but I don't really get into fighting, myself. Just stay behind him if he has a gun. It's safer, for the two of you. No one wants to be in the crossfire, believe me." Meredith rubbed her temple for a moment.

"I just had an uzi to my temple not even a week ago.." Meredith glanced at the ceiling. "You'll be fine. Believe me."

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[info]rather_write
2008-03-16 03:20 pm UTC (link)
'Is there such a thing as good men?' she'd asked. Ruth smiled at what was meant as a joke, but she couldn't help but think back to her father. Her father had been a good man. All the way up to May 15, 2007, he'd been a wonderful man, as wonderful as men were made. It was hard to believe that it had been seventeen years, nearly eighteen, since her mother died. When she closed her eyes, it sometimes still felt like yesterday.

"It's good to hear," Ruth said, her free hand reaching for the contract and the pen, while her other hand pressed the pale cigarette filter against her lips. "That you have confidence in them." She began to read the contract carefully. This was the sort of thing David usually did for her, but David was still in the car driving this way. Almost guiltily, she nocked the cigarette into one of the grooves of the ashtray between her and Meredith, and turned her attention nearly fully to the reading at hand.

"I don't think they have family, do they? That must make it easier to do the job."

It was a gentle probing question. In all the online articles about Leander Nolan, she hadn't been able to find anything concrete about his family. Her search had only been over the span of an hour and a half last night, but that was more than enough to convince her that it wasn't easy to find details like that. And Robert Skandra.... There wasn't a whole lot on him except in the newspapers. The newspapers were never fond of deviating from their action-packed stories when it came to him, either.

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[info]clerical
2008-03-16 10:37 pm UTC (link)
"Family? Not that I'm aware of. We don't exactly sit down ans ask how each other's mothers are doing. Not many adults do, unless you work in an office building with an elevator. That's when all that small talk comes in handy. So how are the kids, wife, dog, etcetera. Not in an office like this. They all have things to do and I have a ton of paperwork to get through calls to make and calls to take." Meredith shrugged a little.

"Maybe this place seems like the kind of place where I'd get to know them personally, but I don't. We don't hang out past work hours and I don't see them on weekends." Meredith hoped at least that's how it was going to go down.

"I do however, know how they like their food and their drinks. I know when they're not feeling good and when not to bother them. But then again, i've always been good at reading people." Meredith sat back a little.

"Would it really matter if they had family? I think it's just as hard to be what they are without anything to come home to as much as it is to go home to a house full of friends or family." She knew this only because she wished that night when she'd come home from the Uzi incident that she had someone to fall onto and cling desperately to.

Cats didn't let you do that. They only cared that you fed them, bathed them, kept them warm and happy. Of course, that didn't mean she wanted a boyfriend. A friend with benefits would have been nicer.

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[info]rather_write
2008-03-19 02:37 am UTC (link)
She was so confident - the confidence of youth, unsullied by experience. Early to mid twenties... Still invulnerable, still with the rest of her life to break her. Even having come from an experience like Ruth's, it seemed she still hadn't realized just how tenuous the thread of life could be. It was hard to look at Meredith. She shone brightly in her confidence.

Robert Skandra had the confidence born from experience, the kind of confidence that came from a life of trials he only just managed to get himself clear of before they snapped their jaws shut on him permanently. His was more and less reckless at the same time. He knew the boundaries. He knew the thinness of that thread. He pressed it anyway.

"No, perhaps not," Ruth answered quietly. "Perhaps it doesn't matter at all."

If Ruth were going to say anything else, she was interrupted by that squeaking door behind her again. A familiar throat-clearing, polite and unobtrusive, let Ruth know that David was here to bring her home. It was a relief to know he was here. To know he was safe. And to know that she didn't have to make her way back home alone.

"Meredith," she said congenially, smiling as she turned in her chair. "This is David, my assistant. David, please meet Meredith Jackson. I believe we are just finishing up?"

Ruth slid the signed contract back to Meredith, then, with a smile that acted as an extension of her question.

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