2012-09-29 Aiming for Something Better

In spite of being worse for wear, Bethany makes it to the meet Nick arranged. She looks like some kind of Euro starlet caught out on a day after a big party - red hair loose, no cosmetics, slightly worn casual clothing that's probably horrendously expensive, the kind of oversized bag that movie stars wait years to buy, bug-eye lens sunglasses, a huge tweedy shawl wrapped over it all.
Bethany's helped out of her Bentley by an unassumingly handsome man and makes her way to the bustling little cafe where she takes a seat at a table on the patio. It's a crisp day, but she's dressed for it. She takes a pack of cigarettes, black with gold print in Russian, lights one, then beckons to the waitstaff and orders a latte.
Despite the craziness in Domino's life since returning to the east coast, one thing's stuck fast in the front of her mind. An unexpected visitor, right at the front door of her safehouse, not even within this country. If that hadn't been strange enough the thought of having a job offer, one that's a bit more legit than her usual fare, has made a big enough impact to bring her all the way out to New York. She would have been just fine sticking it out in California for a while longer but when doing freelance work one must go where the jobs are offered. Steady pay is something worth pursuing... Especially if these SHIELD goons are keeping an eye on her.
There's no one to help her out of the black Jaguar that pulls up nearby, the lone woman all black on white with the only color coming from the icy blue of her eyes. Even those are covered by dark tinted lenses, though they fail to hide the fact that her left eye is home to a wide black spot that's either a tattoo or very precise cosmetic work.
Figuring out where to sit, that's the easy part. Trying to fit in with the rest of the city's inhabitants, that went out the window years ago. Like a black haired ghost in a black leather trench she drifts through the scattering of chairs until she can hook the toe of a boot around the leg of the one left open just for her, depositing herself upon the piece of furniture without hesitation. One look at you is all that it takes, a wry smirk edging across blackened lips. "Afraid to be seen in public with me?"
"Not at all. Bethany Cabe, not that it wasn't obvious." Bethany extends her hand and smiles at Domino. She takes Domino's appearance in without any apparent reaction. "You'll forgive me if I don't get up. I'm not two days out from getting blown up at another meeting. Fucking Madripoor."
Off to a surprisingly good start, this. After Dom's run-in with Fury she had been expecting a bit more of a hardass. Her smirk shifts into more of a proper smile, though it seems as though she might have trouble wearing one which isn't lopsided. The offered hand is taken, her own palm covered by a fingerless glove. "Domino, though no need to make things all formal. You probably know more about me than I'm comfortable with, already." Huh, this is curious. She had also expected a pencil-pusher to be running the interview, and the organization, not someone that spends time out in the field. "Glad someone here's been having a good time. So how's this work, no big sales pitch? Your cigar-chewing friend made a big deal out of everything, though he seemed to enjoy his theatrics."
"No sales pitch. I can load the table with bullshit but I can't make you eat it." Bethany waves her cigarette indifferently. She's got an elegantly subtle Swiss-German accent - it stands out in New York. "You want to work for someone or you don't. People talk in this business, we're like a bunch of grannies if we're not out taking bullets or taking headshots. I pay very well. Cash, bonds, diamonds, stock, Twinkies, I don't care. I look out for you. You can always say no to assignments. You can be on the payroll or just on call. Your choice. I appreciate my resources."
Bethany pauses as her latte arrives and she gestures to Domino to put in an order before she keeps speaking. "The reasons not to work for me - truth or lies - are all out there. I'm a private-schooled, Eurotrash trustfund kid who never wore a uniform she didn't buy herself. I'm slumming. I knocked off my husband. I'm banging Tony Stark... and honestly, if the last were true, I wouldn't work for me either. We both know what you can do for me. What can I do for you?"
This is getting interesting very quickly. Domino sits back in her chair, then slouches toward her right shoulder. If she's not being scored on presentation then to hell with it, she'll be herself in full. "Awfully flexible in your options. Surprised I haven't heard of your organization before." Being viewed as a resource, that she's familiar with. Being told that she'd be looked out for only five minutes into this conversation, though? She's finding it difficult to uncover any faults in this. Seems too good to be true. Buuut, considering the other alternatives she has to work with...
"Coffee, plain," she says in a fairly distracted tone, more concerned with processing these new pieces of information than getting picky or specific about an order. "Just one question," she redirects while pulling the frames away from her eyes and setting them onto the table. "Do you get it from Fury, or does Fury get it from you?" The similarities in speech and mannerisms are easy to spot!
An elbow lands on the armrest of her chair, fingers lightly framing her chin as she continues to study you. There's such ..deference, like her profession matters to you on a completely different level. It's unreal. Kind of inspiring, too. "I think you've already laid it out. I can work on call? Then we have a starting point. Got some other things demanding my attention but I can find time for extra work. We can take things from there." She also wants the time to get a better feel for all of this before committing more of her time to its cause. Fury..she doesn't trust so much.
Bethany laughs, then winces thanks to the ribs, at the Fury comment. "After I left private school at seventeen, I was pretty much raised by ex-Special Forces agents from all over the world. I think I'm just an amalgam of every badass asskicker who's ever had something to teach me." She takes a drink of her latte. "We keep a low profile in the US, do a lot of work in Saudi and the rest of the Middle East, South America is big for us, so's Russia. India. Pretty much anywhere not this particular hellhole." She makes a bitter face. "Forgive me, America and I don't get along well. I already miss Madripoor."
"You're free to be on call. I know that it takes time to build up trust. I want you to work for me full-time only because you don't want to do anything else. If it happens, great. If it doesn't, we stay like this." Bethany pushes the cigarettes and lighter across the table with some effort and there's an envelope under them. "For your time today, regardless of anything else. My people's time, their presence, is valuable to me. That's just one easy way to say so."
There's a subtle arching of one brow when you wince from laughing. Domino knows that feeling all too well, it's more that it's coming from you and not 'one of the mercs' that is most curious of all. "Colorful history, then." The comment is followed with a slow but steady nod as you run through the list of operating points, "I've been to a few of those. Russia's always interesting." The part about forgiving you is met with a slight face and a lazy wave of her hand, "I've spent the last week in Gotham, it has a habit of making any other place in the world seem like a great vacation spot."
"Do you show this much interest with all of the new potentials?" she asks while distractedly reaching for the offerings. The envelope, in particular. A quick tug frees it from the lighter and pack, not going through the trouble of counting it but allowing herself a brief glance just to get a ballpark figure of where things are at. "I almost start to wonder if you're feeling --" Right now? Things are looking -really- fucking good. "--Desperate." ..Wow. As far as establishing a positive working relationship goes, this is a great start. An amazing start. Once more her attention comes to focus upon you, the envelope and its contents vanishing beneath the table. Is she being bribed, or is this all legit? After a few seconds' worth of thought she claims that envelope, tucking it inside of a coat pocket then exchanging it with a plain business card that has a single phone number listed. That gets set on top of the lighter. "You'll be seeing more of me, Bethany."
Category:Logs
Category:RPLogs