Man in Black III

**Tuesday** · Jun 29th, 2017 01:30 AM

Remember, your character will need Allies 3 in any Sphere of Influence, Contacts, Status 2+, or Fame 2+ to gain admittance to this underworld / grey area meeting ground.
Please note that if Status is used, it must be Status as influence, and not as an accreditation or license.

This wasn't a routine.

...but her visits to the Man in Black were becoming a little more...frequent.

Random tee under a blazer, finally confidant enough to not care if she were braking some weird criminal code of Only Black. There was black on her blazer. It was just under all the animals. Dark wash jeans only showcase the bright patterns of her jacket, and heels, she's wearing some. Not her Ryan ones, but something a little more Tuesday.

She's let in with barely a batted eye, blazer being the cause. Almost a regular, now, with this crowd.

She walks passed the artificially enhanced shadowy corners where her fellows dwelt. Passed where the clubbing courtiers laughed and delighted in being this evening's centerpiece. The lines of the club making it so eyes would fall on them, those who sought attention, and not others who wouldn't take kindly to lingering eyes.

She finds an empty seat at the bar and orders her usual.

White Russian. Hold the booze.

Tuesday gains entry with Status 2 (Criminals)

Jun 30th, 2017 12:36 PM

So, according to his cop friends (and their CI's), his buddies at the Fourth Estate and even the hard-working folk involved in trade unions there was a place in town. A place where business was conducted over cigars and fancy drinks. A place with a strict non-violence policy, surely established to protect the oh-so-sensitive identities of the patrons. The Darkling loved the fact that such a place exists at least as much as he hates learning about it only just now, months after his return to Sacramento.

The Man in Black.

Well, now he is about to find out just how much of the rumors were true. Dressed in the most expensive silk suit he could possibly find (and afford) he walked past the bouncers with ease. Some people at the precinct promised to fix him a pass, and they delivered, like always. Alexander walked inside like he was a regular, smiling. A few glances later he discerns that most people here already have their little social circles established, and he doesn't really have the firepower to waltz into them. Yet.

But there is someone at the bar. A woman and her drink. Her attire is a mix of casual and extravagant, and that alone makes her one of the most promising companions here. Alexander approaches her, places himself on a stool next to her own.

"Good evening. You are not waiting for anyone, are you, miss...?"

Then the order comes. Scotch. Neat.

Alexander is using his Allies (Emergency Services) to gain entry.

**Yumyumcrow** · Jun 30th, 2017 06:08 PM

A figure stirs in the shadows. A twisted, hunch backed figure with greasy shoulder length hair and a shabby brown suit. The fellow's sickly green shirt simply adds to his strangeness. He looks like he doesn't belong till you see his eyes. Rat-like eyes. Cagey eyes. Darting eyes.

Pinching his rather long nose from habit, he slouches over to the bar.

"Another rum and coke," he coughs. Those darting eyes avoid contact, yet something in his posture suggests he is open to talk.

RADZINSKY
The Alchemist Sellout and Shard

Status 2 (Academics)
Subterfuge 1

**Tuesday** · Jun 30th, 2017 09:17 PM

Normal Bar. This isn't.

Rules. Normal ones. Not applicable.

Walking up all slick in a fancy ass suit, marks you in ways that Aren't Good. Well. For the dude in the suit. It was good for everyone else. Either this was a major shark who didn't care who knew he had enough money to blow on a suit like that. Or he could be puffing up like a peacock, showcasing the money, the club fame - but this tight-ass didn't come from that throng.

Hazels span his form as he order his drink and claims the place next to her. Dude? Really?

This peacock definitely wasn't Miller. He she'd gotten a very vivid description of, and unless this dude was hiding a nice rack and some wicked tatts under that suit, he wasn't De Luca either.

From what Margo and Robbie could glean, the hubby, wife duo had an easier time keeping their ears to the ground then Tuesday did, there wasn't any new players in town.

So. Not a shark. Just a rich fish. And therefor a mark. Sure, you can't do much of anything within the Man in Black or it's property lines, but outside that? Fair game. Plus her Foxes deserved something nice for. Well. Whatever. "Robin." said before a sip of her boozeless booze. "Sure. Whatever floats your boat dude." comes after.

When the shadows move showing the twisted form of the hunchback who takes another free seat, Tuesday feels much better. Not that the slumped figure is confidence inspiring, but. He's people. People-people. Her people. Which, the rich fishy definitely isn't. "Another? Which number would that be?" a stupid opener, but one that said hazels saw the open to talk lines and was reciprocating with actual mouth sounds.

**Robert Cross** · Jun 30th, 2017 10:39 PM

Man in Black. Since returning to the city, his people on both sides of the Law have been mentioning it. Cross never really gave it a second thought. Until now.

Because he's just learned a certain hunchback frequents the place. One who's looking to sell a very special book.

And Cross wants that book. Badly.

Imagine the Burned Man's delight, then, at spotting his target bellied up to the bar upon making his entry. Yes, the same man from that first night in the garage.

It's almost enough to make him smile. Though he doesn't. This isn't the kind of place where you walk around grinning.

He's flushed with blood, faking life, which makes his scars even more livid. Wearing his typical attire: black suit, white dress shirt open at the collar. No weapons tonight. No smiles and no tools, not in this establishment.

Cross is pulling cash out of his pocket as he steps up to the bar beside Radzinsky. Places it there, with a quick word to the bar tender: "His drink's on me."

He doesn't look at the hunchback. Not yet. Keeps his eyes, instead, on the barkeep making the rum and coke. "Good evening, Mr. Radzinsky."

Cross uses his Contacts to gain entry

Jul 1st, 2017 09:45 AM

You know how they say that evil is the absence of good? Well, in some instances events are the absence of actions.

Take Ms.Robin, for example. She's barely said a word to him, and her only noteworthy movement was that of a hand grasping the drink-filled glass towards her mouth and back. And yet, whatever she said or did couldn't be more meaningful. She's drawing the line between him - "the rich, apparently lost bastard" - and her - "the real, flesh-and-blood people". Setting the stage and mood. Playing bored and indifferent, but in his mind the Darkling knows she will judge his every word and deed, no doubt to assess if he's worth talking to or just someone to exploit, if the opportunity comes. Nice try, but two can play at this game, sister.

Let's rock your boat a little, shall we?

"So, Ms. Robin... What a nice young woman like you is doing in a place like this? Don't take this the wrong way, but you don't look like most of the local crowd." He's using the most pretentious and impudent line in the history of the universe, and the slight smile on his face tells you he knows that. A minute amount of scotch disappears as he sips. "So you're either a regular that wants to send a message, or a black widow, luring people in with your uniqueness. Wondering... which is it?" He may be wrong, but that's not the point. The point is to get her talking.

As he finishes, two more men come to populate the bar. One like a mad scientist, with green shirt and spying eyes. The other, a mobster or a cop straight out of a hardboiled story. The two apparently know each other, but something tells him they're not on good terms. For the moment, he decides not to interrupt and simply observe, unwilling to get on the bad side of the suited mass of burnt meat.

**Yumyumcrow** · Jul 1st, 2017 06:43 PM

Roaming eyes suddenly fix and narrow on the scarred man. Radzinksy sniffs and pinches at his nose.

"Nice suit. Where did you get it?"

The hunchback doesn't turn to Cross. With a blink he is staring, perhaps vacantly, at the drink being laid before him. He licks his lips and a smile teases his lips. He sniffs again as he reaches for the glass and then stops.

"How do you know me? 'Cause I'm sure I don't know you. Yet."

Somehow, Radzinksy turns twisting his head toward Cross into a kind of nod. Lank hair falls over the hunchback's face, occluding the look in his eyes.

RADZINSKY
The Alchemist Sellout and Shard

Status 2 (Academics)
Subterfuge 1

**Robert Cross** · Jul 1st, 2017 07:35 PM

His suit? "Can't remember," Cross answers.

The Burned Man still hasn't looked at his companion. Not in the face at least. Instead he watches him reach for the drink then stop.

"Drink. Don't let me get in your way," he says. It could be your last.

Dead, blue eyes dart up and down the bar. For a moment they lock onto the Suit trying to play pick up. That menacing gaze lingers just a beat longer than it should before he turns his attentions back to Radzinsky. He edges almost imperceptibly closer, his voice dropping, balanced somewhere between conspiratorial and something a little more threatening:

"I'm a...friend of Sanchez and Tombs. Well, let's call me an acquaintance with similar tastes." A dry chuckle. "I've heard you have something interesting on offer, Mr. Radzinksy." A beat. "And I like interesting."

**Tuesday** · Jul 2nd, 2017 03:45 PM

A charred mess of a man walks in and Tuesday's hyper aware of the dude. Because. Dox. Seriously. Dude still smelt freshly charred. Seriously Not Good.

The baconator and the hunchback get to a'talking, business it seems. But Tuesday. Ear. Keeping one on them. Might need to follow them away from the bar if they feel the need to move to a shaded corner for more privacy. Hazels sweep. Noting possible places where she can follow without it seeming like she is.

"So, you like judging covers." Tuesday shakes her head and tisks. "And blindly throwing out assumptions." she takes another sip, "You know, traditionally not great to do around here."

Jul 2nd, 2017 04:58 PM

"So you admit it's a cover you wear." She also dodges his first question. Nice. "And that you know this place's traditions, meaning you're a regular. Blind or not, my assumptions proved to be correct." Smiling, he mirrors her movement of drinking some of what he ordered. "I assure you, I'm not the judging type. Wouldn't be healthy for my lifestyle." For a moment, he drops the conversation, apparently deep in thought, giving them both maybe a dozen seconds of solace. "What do you do, Robin? Besides hanging out in places like these, I mean." The previous approach she seems steeled agains, so how about Mr. Friendly Face?

Trying to pry Ms. Robin open is not the only interesting thing he can devote his time to, however. It seems the Burned Man is here to buy something, but he and the other guy couldn't look more different. Still, appearances can be misleading, as he knows full well, so maybe it will take an unexpected turn. What could this...Radzinsky fellow sell? Antiques? Software? Nuclear weapons?

Just in case, he looks towards the nearest corner, wondering if it'd be a good hiding/spying spot.

Man in Black III

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