[Sodium_noir] Hell is Other People

[Josh]

Allen Bradley, Marguerite Sinclair, Mara Ravenclaw
  A Pair of Mortals and a New Visitor
  Sinclair Mansion
         
  Eventually, they made their way across the main room and stood near the foot of the grand stair, giving them a quiet spot for their conversation, yet in well enough of view of the room so that Marguerite could continue her role as hostess.  A coldly calculated position giving them the maximum amount of privacy they could expect for a minimum amount of impropriety.
         
  "It looks like the storybooks are wrong," Bradley said, eyeing the alcove where Fresserei still held Marguerite's friends conversationally hostage.  "Sometimes it's the lady who must rescue a knight."
   
  Marguerite tilted her head slightly and almost started saying something in return, but instead slid her eyes to her left and smiled at one of her guests making her way toward the pair.  Bradley turned as well, taking a nearly imperceptible half-step away from Marguerite as he did so.  Their visitor was well dressed, not overly made-up, nor dripping with jewelry like half of Marguerite’s guests draped over themselves like a shield against Gotham’s crushing poverty.  But she tickled something in the back of his mind, as if he knew he should recognize her but for some reason couldn’t place a name with a face.
   
  Of course, it all came together when Marguerite greeted her guest.  Mara Ravenclaw, an attorney and recent transplant to Gotham.  Bradley willed his face to relax into its accustomed public pose, a friendly smile with a trickle of the warmth from his previous conversation leaking through his eyes.  Meanwhile, his mind quickly dug through his memories as Marguerite and Ms. Ravenclaw exchanged banal pleasantries, trying to dredge up anything he knew about her guest.
   
  He knew that she was a senior partner for some non-profit law firm that recently opened up in Gotham.  She did a bit of work for the Public Defender’s office back in Seattle, but other than that small tidbit of information, she was a blank slate.  At least she hasn’t sued us for anything, he thought to himself.
   
  “Where are my manners?” Marguerite said, interrupting her short conversation with her guest.  “Mara Ravenclaw, this is Allen Bradley, apparently one of the few men in this city willing to devote his time and money to the less fortunate.”
   
  “More money than time, I’m afraid,” Bradley said, extending his hand in greeting.  “I’ve heard some good things about your firm.  It’s nice to meet someone who’s not just looking after their own skin.”
   
  [OOC: Sorry about taking so long to post.  Year-end close + new dog = very little time for myself.  Antonia, if I’ve written anything incorrect or non-common knowledge, please let me know or just correct it in your response.  Thanks.]
   
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