My date with the Curator

[ParanoidAndroid]

Il Fornaio. Fancy. Public. Busy as all get-out for lunch hour.

Henry was comfortable with two of those things. The other item was another matter entirely. On the other hand, comfort was something he'd sacrificed at the altar of the Guardians' duty quite a while ago.

He put on a superficial smile, trying to look as happy as anyone else to be having lunch here. He'd been mulling over the 'note' the Curator had left her receptionist. Obviously she knew quite a bit. How much, and how, were other matters. Matters to be solved AFTER the disappearance of a prominent willworker.

He takes only the most marginal look at the tables around him, trusting the Subtle Dance to keep the Sleepers' attention off him. He gives Tyria's name at the restaurant's entrance, hoping the woman's planning skills were what they seemed with the message she'd left.

[West]

The hostess gives Henry a million watt fake smile, and nods, escorting him to a table where a serious looking young brunette woman sits. She's picking at a single prawn, drizzled in mint sauce and accompanied by large sprigs of greenery. A tangerine wedge eyes the prawn as if it's considering asking it out on a date.

The woman stops and looks up at Henry expectantly.

.

[ParanoidAndroid]

Henry thanks the hostess with a nod and a smile. He stands close to the chair directly opposite the woman, a hand on its backrest. "Doctor Primoria, I presume?", he asks in the most business-like tone he can manage. A place of leisure, this restaurant was. And no matter how much Henry wanted to look like he belonged, there was simply no way to be comfortable here.

[West]

"It's moments like these when I seriously consider changing my name to Livingstone," she answers with a small smile. "Are you Ant-Man or Yellowjacket?" The question comes with laughter in her eyes, lighting up the tired features.

She pushes the tangerine slice to the side, as if sensing it's ignoble intentions toward her prawn.

[ParanoidAndroid]

Henry returns the woman's smile, letting a bit of humor slip into the expression. Or maybe he forces the humor into the mask he puts on for everyone, it really isn't clear.

"Ant-man, of course. I keep the classics close to heart". Henry wasn't actually a fan of the character, but when naming yourself after something, it helped to know at least the basics of what it was. "I have to admit I'm impressed", he continues in a tone tinged with a certain appreciation. "I can count on both hands the people who reckognize that." Or at least, the ones who actually admit to it. "I assume you know why I'm here, then." Fun or not, this was business.

[Tyria Primoria]

Tyria smiled in return. "Well, we'll keep my admission of classic Avengers knowledge a secret, then. Ill-spent youth, and all that. Although, I confess I'm curious to see the Hollywood treatment." After a pause, she shook her head slightly. "Not really, a mutual friend just said you would be calling."

With a delicate click a small portion of the prawn was sliced, and dipped in the mint sauce.

[ParanoidAndroid]

"And we keep my source for surnames between us", Henry answers matter-of-factly, still with a trace of a smile. He'd never used any other name from that source, of course (that'd just be stupid), but he felt he should contribute to the mood in some way.

Henry's mind catalogued what the Curator said. Ill-spent childhood when the classic Avenger were still in vogue? Research further. Of course it was simply habit, and that particular mental note was stuck so far down the line it would matter little, ever. Wait, common friend? So, on the one hand, I owe Zilker the easy introduction. On the other, I owe him that book joke... Henry couldn't quite decide which weighed more than the other in the balance.

He lets the smile fade, however. The ice was broken, now came the part he'd been trained for. "This is about your assistant," he starts simply. He pulls back the chair where he is standing by a quarter inch, trying to subtly ask to sit down. "May I?" After all, chivalry isn't dead.

[West]

"Please," Tyria replies. The fork raises, and she smells the mint sauce. A delicate pink tongue touches the prawn, and fork goes back down. Tyria picks up her San Pelligrino and takes a swallow, making a small moue of disapproval at the plate.

"It's been over a month now," she begins, pushing the plate away slightly. "Starling's disappeared before, but we usually get a postcard from the Bahamas or a phone call from Cancun after a few days. This time... nothing."

[ParanoidAndroid]

Henry's mouth twists slightly as he sits down. If they sent me out on an errand for a Mage who just decided to up and go skiing without warning...

"Did he mention anything about another destination he wanted to try?", he asks, his expression returning to his normal neutrality. Better clear the obvious, and the annoying, out of the way first. "And," he fakes hesitation, as though he didn't want to ask. But he so did. "do you know what he was working on when he 'went off'?" After all it's either personnal, or work. Or frikkin' vacation.

[Tyria Primoria]

"He didn't mention anything... he just didn't show up one day," Tyria says. She looks slightly puzzled, and slightly annoyed.

"As far as what he was working on, I really can't say. Mostly research on... unusual items." She smiles apologetically, and Henry gets the impression that she likes secrets, too. "It's not much, I know, but I can give you his home address."