[Sodium_noir] Recap - Bradley, Sinclair, Ravenclaw

Mon Sep 10 14:58:36 EDT 2007

Hell is Other People
  Allen Bradley, Marguerite Sinclair, Mara Ravenclaw
  A Pair of Mortals and a Vamp
  Sinclair Mansion

  "Well enough of this. Too much shop. Lets get some more drink inside us shall we?" she almost pulls Bradley from the room, rescuing him from Fresserei. "I think I deserve a break from Melcom PR don't you Mr Bradley?"  The grateful smile in Bradley's eyes said everything that couldn't be said in polite company about his feelings regarding Mr. Fresserei.

  They strolled through the party, casually chatting with the other guests and mutual acquaintances about nothing in particular, a light apertief of conversation after the rather gristly run-in with Melcom's PR man.  He enjoyed himself, but his thoughts kept returning to his late wife and memories of how they would work their way through a party together exactly as he and Marguerite were doing right now.

  Mara watches as Etienne continues to wait, like a boy waiting for his prom date in the family room with her parents while she finishes primping.  The long, uncomfortable silence.  The anticipation.  Brujah impatience starts to assert itself.  "Tell you what, I'll head over there and wait for the two of you to arrive."  Leaving Etienne, she makes her way toward the back, knowing that they couldn't have a private conversation while they walked.  That would have to wait just a bit longer.

  Eventually, Bradley and Lady Sinclair 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.

  Though it was a bit rude to walk into a gathering of Kindred unannounced and unintroduced, Mara was willing to take the risk.   Aucunes entrailles, aucune gloire, as her mentor always said.   As she walks, she catches a glimpse of Lady Sinclair.  How fortunate, she had wanted to talk to her anyways.  Perhaps a quick stop to say hello.   She makes her way toward Sinclair and her companion.

  "It looks like the storybooks are wrong," Bradly 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.

  For a moment, Mara ignores Lady Sinclair's escort.  He was mortal.  She greets Lady Sinclair, thanking her for her hospitality and asking if she had received the documents she'd had sent to her.  She wanted to ask if they were to her liking, but didn't want to press her luck too far.  She was patient, she had time.

  Bradley knew that Mara 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.  Though she had sued Gotham on behalf of a church.

  “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.”

  Mara offers her own hand, and feels the warmth against her own skin, cool as marble.  "Thank you.  It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Bradley.  What did you say you did?"  She knew he didn't, but was fishing for an answer.

  “I wear a lot of different hats these days, Ms. Ravenclaw,” Bradley said, showing nothing but a wall of bland polite curiosity in his eyes.  If he was surprised by her room-temperature handshake, he didn’t show it.  “Right now, it’s mostly construction and real estate.”

  Mara reads the man's body language for any sign of her faux pas, realizing that she should have warmed her flesh first.  Ah well.  

  He released her hand and took a slight sip from his glass.  “I remember reading something about your new firm a few days ago.  Something about suing the city?”

  Mara smiles.  "Yes.  The city was persecuting St. Bridget's.  In case you haven't heard of it, it's a Catholic church in Cardboard City.  The city was trying to get the church to stop giving shelter to the homeless.  I offered Father Bellamy my help, and he accepted."

  Mara toys with one manicured nail.  "Real estate, hmm?  Do you specialize in any particular part of the city?  Are you trying to redevelop the impoverished areas, or simply building the next set of luxury condos?"

  “I’ve always been of the mind that one helps the other.  It’s really no use to build luxury condominiums if the people living there don’t have a job to pay for them, is it?”  There was a beat of silence while Bradley studied Ravenclaw’s reaction.

  Mara keeps her face decidedly neutral and unreadable, though her tone seems to imply agreement.  "No."  She replies.  "Henry Ford was similarly minded, as I recall.  He paid higher wages because he felt his workers should be able to afford the products they made.  He called it Welfare Capitalism.  Such a pity that most companies don't practice it these days."  

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Ravenclaw, but the question you’ve asked touched a bit of a raw nerve.  As I was telling Mr. Fresserei,” Bradley gestured to the portly man still holding a captive audience on the other side of the room, “those of us with means have an obligation to help those without.  But the only way we can do that is by giving people who need help the opportunity to bring themselves out of poverty.”  Mara began to see a few cracks in Bradley’s bland façade as he warmed to the subject.

  At his mention of Fresserei, Mara's bland exterior shows cracks as she tries to hide her contempt for the man and the company he worked for.  She quickly changes the subject.  "A hand up, not a handout.  Much like what my own firm attempts to do."   

  “After all, I’m sure that most of the people at St. Bridget’s would rather have the means to pay for their own apartment and groceries rather than beg for handouts and table scraps.  Make jobs available and people will fill them.  And once enough jobs are filled, building luxury condos becomes a better business proposition.”

  Mara nods, though she didn't agree with the statement.  She'd worked with the homeless long enough to know their many varieties.  And while some were on the street due to hard luck, others were hopelessly insane, let loose on the public during the Reagan era.  Still others were addicted to drugs of various legal and illegal sorts.  The latter were more interested in their next fix than a place to live. The crazies, you rarely knew what they wanted.  

  "That it does."  Mara replies.     

  [Tag]

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Pinpoint customers who are looking for what you sell. 
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