Gaz Membrane will destroy you. (gameslave2) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2014-03-19 01:28:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | !complete, christian grey, gaz membrane |
Who: Gaz Membrane-Garnier and Christian Grey.
What: Setting up money stuff.
When: 3/17.
Where: Third Street Bank.
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 for Gaz's mouth, reference to patricide.
Status: Complete!
It was still Saint Patrick’s Day, and as such, Christian was downright thrilled to have clients to meet with. His first appointment had gone well, but this was the one he’d been excited about; Gaz Membrane had a boatload of money and no patience for idiocy. Hopefully he’d be able to do the job she wanted with a minimum of fuss.
Their appointment had been set for 1pm and he walked into the lobby at 12.59. He didn’t want to be too early, but late would never do. “Ms. Membrane?”
Gaz had arrived wearing a tight black corset, short black skirt, and striped stockings that stopped at mid thigh. Her stompy boots tapped a bit as she waited for anyone to tell her where Christian Grey’s office was. She’d been about to lose her patience when a guy in a suit came out and said her name.
“Thank fuck,” she muttered, standing up. “That’s me.”
He hadn’t expected anyone dressed like that, but it rather suited her. Christian stuck out a hand, mostly on instinct. “Nice t’meet you,” he said. “Come on back here, and we can get down to business.” He didn’t offer any of the typical small talk; if there was a woman not interested in it, this would be it.
She took it, making sure not to squeeze too hard. Her hair was blue with electric neon streaks but her natural purple (because of the dreams) showed through at the roots. “Thanks.” She chuckled when she saw some other people suddenly taking interest in her. Too late, assholes.
Sitting down, she crossed her legs and looked at him. “How long have you been here? Was the volcano your first weird thing?”
“First major strange thing, yes.” Christian was amused. “I came over from Ireland around the new year - new job, new branch. A couple of oddities, meeting people with interesting powers, but this was the first thing where I’ve wondered if I walked into a science fiction film.”
“My powers are pretty awesome,” Gaz smiled crookedly. “But yeah, it’s never boring living here, I can say that.”
“Oh?” Both to the ‘never boring’ and the casual statement that she had powers. It would have been rude to ask what kind, though. “Can I get you anything? Water, soda?”
“Yeah, it’s nice to help save the world sometimes. And thanks, soda would be good.” Gaz never had to worry about her weight or cavities ever again. Sometimes she wondered if she’d live longer too.
The mad thing about this place was that she wasn’t kidding. Christian got her a bottle of soda from his minifridge, handing it to her before sitting down. “I’d ask you to repeat that, but I know what this place gets up to.”
“Thanks,” Gaz nodded, popping the top on the Coke and taking a sip. “I dream I was made by my dad in a test tube - he’s this crazy genius inventor who made perpetual motion energy a thing.” She rolled her eyes. “And I’m half demon, so that’s ... yeah.”
Christian’s eyebrows shot up at the cavalier admission, but he didn’t make a big deal out of it. “That must get interesting.” He rather hoped on her behalf that she didn’t come across any religious people.
“Little bit, yeah. It helps me keep my husband safe, so that’s all I care about.” Gaz pulled out her phone and scrolled through until she got to a photo of herself and Erik on their wedding day. Handing the phone over, her face broke into a genuinely happy smile.
Even he had to admit, that was rather sweet. “Your dress is lovely,” Christian commented, meaning it. She’d eschewed the traditional white for red and black, and it suited her colouring. “Where did you get married?” It didn’t seem like a traditional church, either.
“Paris, in the catacombs.” Gaz was obviously madly in love with her husband. She always got confused when people pointed out that he was older. Obviously. What did that have to do with anything? “We were there because he was writing an opera for a specific house and we figured why not?”
“In the catacombs?” Christian blinked, chuckling. “That’s brilliant. It must have been amazing.” One wondered just how they got permission to do that, but still. He did see that her husband was older, but clearly, she knew that, so what was the point of his bringing it up?
“Yeah, it was fun. We just asked random people to come and had a pizza party afterward.” She crossed her legs and leaned back. “Have you ever been?”
“No, unfortunately. I went to Spain a bit, but didn’t travel much else outside Ireland.” Christian replied, handing her phone back. “Never had much money. I will someday, though.” He smiled a little. “So. How exactly can I help you today? You said you had wanted to set up some charitable grants?”
“I do, yeah. I’ve been told by my estate lawyer that I’ve got more money than god, that I should use some of it. I don’t live off of my inheritance, you see, I live off of my paintings or my competing.” Gaming didn’t pay too much, but the exposure she’d gotten in Paris had made her a hot commodity in the States for selling art.
“Ah, I see. What do you compete in?” Christian figured he’d best ask, even if he wasn’t just curious. He started to jot notes down about Gaz; things he’d need to know to start setting up some charitable trusts.
“Video games,” Gaz shrugged. “There’s a few gaming charities I wanted to donate to right off the bat.” Child’s Play stuck out in her mind, it was her favorite cause. “It’s kind of my thing.”
“You can compete professionally in video games?” Christian blinked. “I didn’t know.” Sounded like the dream of every young boy ever. “I’d be happy to set some things up. What I might suggest is a charitable foundation under your name. That way, you have the mechanism set up to grant however much to anyone you desire. You can do all the tax paperwork once, and then grant as you see fit.”
“Yeah, you can. South Korea keeps trying to recruit me for Starcraft.” Gaz wrinkled her nose. “I don’t want to move to Seoul, I hate pickled anything.” She crossed her legs again, listening to what he said. “That’s ... yeah, that sounds good, actually. You majored in math, huh. I was in art before I dropped out.”
“Maths was the only thing I was good at, yes.” Christian felt oddly comfortable telling her that, smiling a little as he started to look for forms on his computer. “We have several Asian clients, but more Japanese than Korean. The market’s just booming there.” He didn’t want to go into it much; he’d bore her.
“Japan’s awesome, they’re really the only place coming out with any good games, lately. Next time I go for anything, I’ll bring you back stuff for your desk you can talk about with them.” She understood looking good to people. “They’re actually weirdly big fans of my art.”
“Oh?” He couldn’t really help but be impressed by how worldly she was. He hadn’t had the money or opportunity to go many places, and she clearly knew a lot about a lot. “That must be nice, to have such a following.” He found the form to start a 501(c)(3) organization, finally, after searching for too long.
“It started when I was in Paris, just dicking around on the street.” Gaz shrugged. She could tell he wished he’d travelled more, and she hoped he got the chance. “Hey, you don’t suck. Maybe next time I get some promo tickets somewhere I’ll give them to you. I fucking hate presents I don’t use.”
Christian blinked. “I think there are rules about that, but it’s kind of you to suggest.” He wouldn’t turn it down if it was ethical, but he didn’t expect anything. “Would you mind giving me a list of charities you would be interested in donating to? I can start checking out their rules, and then go from there.”
“I’d ask your boss, and yeah.” Gaz pulled out her netbook from her bag (decorated with a few doodles of angels being flayed she’d done when she was bored) and brought up the Word document she’d set up. She handed over the bit of electronic equipment, shrugging to herself.
“Thank you.” Christian took it and started inputting the names. “What I can do is get everything going - contact them and get their rules - and then just let you know. No need to take up your time with all the nitty-gritty.” It was what he was here for, really. Though most of his clients weren’t quite so satisfying as this one.
“Well, thanks. Seriously.” She was going to ask his boss ASAP about gift giving, just because she liked the guy in a friendly way and that kind of thing didn’t happen often. “Anything else you need?” She smiled when she noticed a message from her husband on her phone.
“Not at the moment, actually.” He managed a faint smile. “It’s a good thing you’re doing. Both for obvious reasons, but also for your tax profile. It’ll actually be much less of a pain in the arse at that time because you can simply attach the paperwork we’re doing now.” He actually thought it was really good of her for the obvious reasons, but she didn’t strike him as the mawkish sort.
Gaz shrugged. “My dad was a piece of shit. He’s probably rolling over in his grave at the idea of me spending his money on ‘unfortunates’.” She rolled her dark blue eyes, and the shadows in the room flickered, mirroring her annoyance. She was glad that nobody but Kate knew that she’d killed her father. Someday, she’d have to tell Erik.
That, surprisingly, hit home. Christian did notice the odd shadows, but all he said was, “Some parents don’t deserve the children they get.” He profoundly hoped none of his mates ever saw fit to tell his mum about him. Not as though she would give a shit to begin with.
“My father didn’t deserve anything.” She drummed her fingers idly on her thigh, chuckling a little. “You too?” With the shithead parent.
“Dad left, Mum was a bitch.” And that was all they were going to discuss about that, thank you.
Gaz wrinkled her nose. “My mom’s still alive, she just got written out of Dad’s will and remarried some other rich fuckwit so she wouldn’t have to do anything.”
“Charming.” Christian’s tone betrayed his sarcasm. “M’mate Alyssa’s got a mental mum as well. There must be something about people round our age.” He was probably older than her, but not by that much.
The girl with the blue-purple hair smirked. “You sound close.”
“Alyssa and me? We’re mates. Got things in common.” Christian kept writing on the charity list she’d given him. “Her mum’s actually here, poor thing; she still lives with her.”
“That sucks out loud. You don’t want a roommate?” Man, being a troll was fun sometimes.
“I like my space.” He sort of figured she had no filter, which was why he didn’t get embarrassed or awkward. “She’s lovely, we get along, but we’re both creatures of habit.” And misanthropes, but that was probably a bad thing to say to a client.
“But you’re not dating?” Gaz cocked her head to the side. “I think dating friends is best.”
“Oh, no.” Anyone else would have gotten a thundering glare - his own head was done in already about that. “Lot involved in all that.”
Gaz smiled softly, looking out the window. “I never dated anyone before I met and married Erik. But I know this much. You should date the people who’re easy. Who don’t seem like you’re dating at all, like you’re always with your best friend. It’s just your best friend who you ... I don’t know, feel like you can’t live without.”
He’d heard it from a thousand people, but somehow it made sense coming from her, if only because Gaz Membrane wasn’t the type to get sweet. He just smiled and said “Well, there’s some sense in that.” Quite a lot of sense, in fact.
“If you have to always work when you’re around them, that’s bullshit, you know?” Gaz shrugged. “Sometimes Erik and I just work while we’re in the same room together. I love that we don’t always have to fucking talk.”
“I’m genuinely glad.” Christian meant it. He just didn’t want to get into all this with someone he barely knew.
Even though she sucked at social cues, Gaz understood what he meant. “So, uh, is there anything else I need to do?”
“No, not at all.” Christian was grateful; he hadn’t wanted to be rude. “I should be able to have this done by the end of the week. You’ve done your part. Is there anything else I could do for you?” He didn’t ask it to kiss her arse; it was best to make sure clients were taken care of.
Gaz shook her head. She reached out to take his hand, knowing exactly what she was going to paint for him when she got home. “Thanks for helping me.”
“It was my pleasure.” Christian meant it. She was interesting and he liked listening to her, which was unusual for him. “Anything you need in banking in the future, I’d be happy to help out.”
“Cool, you’ll be my bank dude.” She reached out to shake his hand, excited to go home and paint for her new friend.