Post by Izzy Beausoleil on Jan 21, 2013 13:27:53 GMT -8
Izzy Beausoleil: The LA branch of Lloyd's was her home office, but talk of expansion had brought Izzy to Seattle. By all rights it was a promotion, even if it did feel like punishment. She would blame, or thank, David when the time came, but for now it was a whirlwind of meetings, planning sessions, and property searches. Which was what she was doing this morning. Inspecting a seemingly endless list of offerings the real estate agent was showing her. She hated them all, thus far. The next on the list was space available in Smith Tower. Not the tallest building, nor the most modern, but it was steeped in tradition and local history and that... appealed to Izzy.
DiminutiveDoc: Seattle. A city-sized shrine to the dark elixir that made America 'run'....and vibrate. The little doc's entire plane ride in had, basically, been musing over what the city was known for - arts, scientific communities, literary geniuses galore...and, on every street corner, the greatest profession the world could offer a young person these days; barrista. Once the plane had landed, and she located her belongings, it was time to enter the coffee-shrine and see for herself what the hub-bub was all about! Oh, she wasn't here on pleasure, or some kind of bean-safari. Her company, Nergal Heavy Industrial Group -a multinational conglomerate built with ingenuity, sleepless weeks and a bit of illegal wire fraud and hacking - was, as so many were these days, looking to take advantage of some tax breaks and incentives and, so, she'd come to scout the place out for potential floor space. First stop was the hotel, just down the busy street from her first target; the ubiquitous Smith Tower! It had come to her attention that there was floor space, which was of course at a premium these days, and that appealed to her. Screw tradition and history - NHI needed a branch office! Standing in the lobby, dressed as one might expect of a top-level corporate goon in a terribly expensive grey, knee-length pencil skirt and matching one-pocket blazer, a white, frill necked chemise and sensible black strappy flats. . she was set to take on the world. Or, at least, Seattle! []d[]
Izzy Beausoleil: Izzy was rocking a coral hued power suit as she stepped out of the hired car, she wasn't about to drive her own on this excursion, when on the company dole. As she and the agent stepped from walk to lobby, she popped the buttons on her coat, Louboutins ticking across the floor as the pair made their way to the very old fashioned, cage style elevators, complete with elevator operator. Izzy smiled as they stepped toward the waiting elevator car, a glance given the woman standing in the lobby, a nod of greeting given in passing.
DiminutiveDoc: Rei, momentarily distracted by attempting to locate the floor on the wall plaque in comparison to the little slip of white paper in one hand, only just caught the nod from the passing woman - and, a bright smile in response, coupled with a nod, was offered. With paper still in hand, she turned as the others loaded into the quaint elevator -hurrying to slip inside before the doors fully closed. Her free hand rose to fluff mid-back length, chocolate mocha curls - a glint catching in otherworldly golden-amber eyes which seemed to linger a bit on the button console inside the lift as if ensuring they were going the right direction. "Going up? Yes, she already knew that was the plan - it was just one of those pointless things to say in an elevator.[]d[]
Izzy Beausoleil: "Preferably." The melodic English lilt to Izzy's voice was plain, and she gave a nod to the lift operator as soon as they were all in. The man closed the door, and agent told him which floor. He shifted the lever and the car that was installed when the building was built in the early twenties rose with less fuss than many of its modern counter parts. Izzy was liking the building, more and more, with each passing moment.
DiminutiveDoc: The warm smile seemed painted on to soft, full lips etched from the bit of perfect porcelain that some artist, some when had named "Rei'. . .the smile aimed at whoever had the eggs to look up in the elevator during the ride; let's be honest, who actually looks at the people they're riding with? The atmosphere inside the lift became stifling, as it did in all elevators - the human psyche seeming to abhor being locked in a box with strangers which caused all sorts of anxiety, usually. Rei, however, was in no way afflicted with the 'human condition', however, and suffered no anxiety -being locked in boxes, after all, was how she'd spent her so-called 'childhood'! A moment spent on each passenger, assessing them top to bottom, was all she'd dare however - piercing, unreal gaze finally relenting in its' fruitless search and settling on to the door in anticipation. Hm..they were going to the same floor? The person with the pretty, well-dressed woman was, she began to figure, some kind of real-estate agent. . .considering the name printed on the person's jacket and some catchy company name above it intended to be both ironic and humorous. Uh oh. . .competition? Just to test those waters a bit, Rei directed the sing-song soft tones at the well-dressed woman, "So, looking to move in? It's a great location..can't say as I'd blame you at all..." []d[]
Izzy Beausoleil: Pale gaze met the scrutiny openly, and returned it. Lips that held but a slight hint of rosy hue, pursed in an amused smirk, before the car came to a halt and the operator opened the gate, letting his passengers out. Izzy took his hand, and greased his palm in the process as she stepped out, thanking him for his service and then those Louboutins were ticking their way into the hall. She turned, locking that pale gaze on the agent who was to show her the first of two available floors.
DiminutiveDoc: Rei had been given only one suite number at this location -so, Izzy had one up on her. But, then, Rei had no desire to deal with agents until the last possible moment; they were pushy and their humor was dry, at best. So, she tended to do her own research before contacting a potential in-between-er for the final sale. The 'tip' noticed, Rei added that to the growing list of traits about the woman that was kept in her mind. .someplace in the back. .and, on her way out of the lift, quietly slipped a lil somethin-somethin' into the operators hand as well; the details of that transaction, however, carefully kept blocked by the slender woman's body. Out of the lift she moved -nearly following the agent and the woman. . the fact that her question hadn't been answered, however pointless it had been, drawing her own smile down a bit in intensity. Hm...maybe this wasn't going to be so much fun afterall. Seattle. . .Coffee, art, sciences, literary genius and. . .rudeness. Wonderful. Sighing softly, Rei shook her head as if dismissing the thought before turning to the right...a final thought offered, "Well, good luck. . perhaps we'll be neighbors!" Didn't seem likely. .but. . whatever. []d[]
Ash J Morrison: There in the hallway, clad in full uniform, was a rather bored looking Ash. A coke zero sat on his knee, and a half empty bag of Cheetos sat on the bench beside him. The door to his right bore a rather garish brass placard announcing to the world that the amazing Feinstein and Grumble had an office therein. The brunette was so bored, he was holding up one of the puffy Cheetos, making it 'swim' through the air in the empty hallway as he sat, awaiting his turn to be deposed. "Da dum... da dum.... Cheetos shark.."
Izzy Beausoleil: Her gaze shifted to the other woman, and the amused twist of her lips only grew. Rudeness was not the intent; she merely preferred to face those she spoke to. "Perhaps." She pulled her gaze from the woman and looked to the agent. "Do lead on." As the listing agent did just that, extolling the virtues of the office space, Izzy listened, giving the occasional nod, and then there was that voice. Turning, she spotted Ash, and couldn't not chuckle. "Do give me a moment, will you love? Thank you." No, she didn't give the woman time to answer, simply stepped away from her almost before she was done speaking to move toward Ash. She stopped short, one brow rising. "I think you need a bigger bench."
DiminutiveDoc: An ethereal, golden gaze settled on the gent with the..uhm...Cheetos shark...and one elegantly-shaped brow arched behind mocha curled bangs in curiosity. O..k. Yup -this was gonna be interesting, no doubt. No more than a nod given to the reply, and noting the pair were most obviously acquainted, Rei shrugged to the agent who looked rather bored - and borderline annoyed at having to wait - before quietly walking off to investigate for herself. In moments, she had all but disappeared into the building's interior - wondering if they had a coffee shop someplace! []d[]
Ash J Morrison: Well, a brow forked, and dimpled grin formed before the Cheetos shark was released into its natural habitat of the bag. "To contain my awesomeness? I don't think they make benches that big. Why are you stalking me, anyway? I don't feel safe around you anymore." He did, however, offer a hand out for a playful shake. "Fancy meeting you here. You in line for snobby businessmen and corporate bastards? Modeling agency is down the hall, I think."
Izzy Beausoleil: "Actually no, I'm looking to take up space. Lloyd's is opening a Seattle office. Yours truly is in charge of finding the ideal space." She smiled. Course she'd be in charge of the division, once they were set up, but that was another tale. "And what are you doing here, hm?"
Ash J Morrison: "What's Lloyd's? Sounds like some kind of posh department store." He stood up, brushing his hands over the front of his shirt subconsciously, smearing tiny traces of orange powder over the fabric. "Waiting to get grilled by some rich kid's mom's lawyer. I'm forbidden to go into detail, but..." He made a motion of a steering wheel, then tipped his head back and lifted a hand while making chugging noises. "Bam!" He clapped his hands together, then. "And there goes a fifty thousand dollar Jaguar."
Izzy Beausoleil: "Lloyd's. Of London. Insurers...." Had he never heard of them? They were, merely the largest group of insurers in the world. "Ah." She nodded. "Little brat was drunk. I do hope we didn't carry the paper on him." She nodded. "So when you're done, we should do lunch. I hear there's a very fine restaurant here in the building." She nodded.
Ash J Morrison: "Suits me down to the ground. I'd have to head back and change first, though. The department rather frowns upon uniformed officers having lunch among the upper class snobs." Hands patted down his pockets for a business card. "Tell you what, you jot down your number and I'll give you a ring once I'm out of the fifth circle of hell, here." Seeing as the fifth circle was reserved for liars, thieves and lawyers.
Izzy Beausoleil: And Insurance underwriters, no doubt. As he looked for a card, she offered out one of her own. "Don't mind the LA number, it's my cell phone. At least it's not international, right?" She smiled. "I'll probably be taking the floor above, since this space isn't completely free and holds lawyers." Yes, let's not associate with that sort..
Ash J Morrison: "Yeah, I bet the stink of greed wafts all the way down the hall." He chuckled, and exchanged cards. He was about to say more, but the door opened, and a man in an expensively tailored suit glanced at a piece of paper before giving Ash a head to foot once over. "Officer Asher James Morrison. This way, please." Ash nodded, and handed the soda and Cheetos over to Izzy. "Here, finish these off for me. They need eating up." And then he vanished into the den of evil that was the lawyer's office. Four hours later, Izzy finally got the call. He'd meet her in the lobby.
Izzy Beausoleil: By the time Ash's call came through, Izzy had leased the fortieth floor, the papers were signed and the crews would be arriving this week to install furniture and name plates. The hiring of underlings would come the following week. Izzy headed for the lobby once all business pertaining to the lease of the floor was done, pale blues looking for Ash as she stepped from the lift.
Ash J Morrison: She'd find him standing in front of a reproduction of a famous painting, hands in the pockets of neatly pressed Dockers. He'd chosen to wear a long sleeved shirt and tie to ensure expedient service in the restaurant. The tie was ever so slightly loosened, as he absolutely HATED ties. Charcoal gray shirt, blue tie, very presentable. At least he'd shaved that morning. As she approached, he swung green gaze toward her and offered a dimpled grin. "Hey. How'd it go? Find anywhere free of stalagmites and lava pools?"
Izzy Beausoleil: "In fact I did. The fortieth floor is now leased to Lloyd's of London. Convenient, when you think about it, since we hold the paper on the building." She smiled as she stopped next to him. "And don't you look dapper, though I must admit, you were rather fetching in your uniform as well."
Ash J Morrison: Brows went up. "Really? The whole building? Well shit, let me know if you can get me a corner office and a minion or two." At her compliment, he took up the sort of pose one would see of a man in a clothing catalog. Then a second. "Why thank you. I don't often get all dolled up, but I had a feeling the waiter would drop my food on the floor if I came in wearing a tshirt and jeans. Besides, it'd make you look bad." He offered an elbow with a dimpled smile. "Shall we? Once more into the breech of snobbery."
Izzy Beausoleil: Laughing, she slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. "Yes, the whole building. It's what we do. Sometimes we even pay out on claims. The most costly one, you may well have heard of." She smiled to the maitre 'd as they entered the restaurant, then looked back at Ash. "You know, the RMS Titanic."
Ash J Morrison: "Your company owned the Red Star?" Or at least that's what he'd gleaned from women who wouldn't shut up about that fucking movie. "I should think that kind of payout would have ruined the company." He was quiet for a moment as they were guided to their table. "Well, I mean a lot of people died, so.. Guess they wouldn't be collecting." His sense of humor was mildly black, to say the least. It took a special outlook on life to be a cop in a big city. When they arrived at their table, Ash politely held her chair for her. "Went to a few museums that had Titanic exhibits when I was in grade school. Nowadays it's all about that blonde guy who drowned on a door."
Izzy Beausoleil: "No, we didn't own the line, we simply insured the vessel. And we are not one insurance company but a ... brokerage if you will. Numerous companies under the house of Lloyds were involved, the total payout was in the are of ten million. Back then. That would be considerably higher, now." She settled in the chair he pulled out for her. "Which was stupid if you ask me, they could have quite simply balanced the piece out, had they used a bit of math. And it was the White Star Line that owned the vessel."
Ash J Morrison: "White Star, yeah. I knew it was something like that. I tried to block out all the fangirls who couldn't stop gushing about that movie." He nudged her chair in as she sat, and sank down into his own seat across from her. "If they'd only gone over the engineering plans, they could have avoided the whole thing. Hubris killed those people. Everyone is always assuming nothing bad will happen because they're so damned amazing." Napkin on the lap, like a good boy. He'd been trained up good by an elderly English grandmother. "If they spared no expense on the furnishings, you'd think they'd make sure the damned thing didn't sink with all that stuff on it." He handed her a menu. "You sound a hell of a lot better at math than I am." He pointed at her with his utensil bundle, wagging it playfully. "You're so doing my taxes this year."
Izzy Beausoleil: "Arrogance was their downfall. She sailed far later than intended, simply due to the fact that materials slated for her went to her sister ship, the Olympic, due to damages incurred to the vessel, and other delays. And then her speed, and 'unsinkablity' lent to the chain of events that lead to her demise."