cobblepot: (006.)
OZ. ([personal profile] cobblepot) wrote in [community profile] remarks2013-07-09 04:07 pm

(no subject)

What makes you think that I would be interested in anything you have to offer me?
splint: (pic#3176904)

that's the way i like it.mp3

[personal profile] splint 2013-07-10 12:42 am (UTC)(link)
[ It's odd, being addressed by her last name. She gives it out about as rarely as she willingly makes conversation, those two syllables the last link to a life that she'd left behind along with a history even more unpleasant than the one tailing her now. But she sits when he gestures at the chair, her limbs somehow seeming even smaller framed by its back than they had been when she'd still stood in the center of the room. Her gaze leaves his face only once, following a curl of smoke as it disappears into the air. ]

I get t'ings fr'm people. Bury secrets, dig 'em up again. Collect debts, pounds o' flesh.

[ A beat, as she shrugs. He knows what she does — the basics of it, at least — and if he turns her down, it's no skin off her back. A pity, sure (as much as she enjoys simply getting ghost, she enjoys a little certainty, too, and she'll only ever make the offer once, to the best in the business), but no irrecoverable loss. ]

'S a piece off t'e playin' board an' in y'r pocket.
splint: (pic#3180499)

oh no don't u dare lana me

[personal profile] splint 2013-07-10 01:55 am (UTC)(link)
[ Her expression hasn't changed all that much since she's stepped foot into his office (she's a spare kind of person, the small apartment she keeps in the city almost exactly the way it'd been when she'd first bought it save a handful of belongings that would all fit easily into a duffel bag at a moment's notice), but there's a flicker of surprise as soon as the word beautiful leaves his lips. For what she knows about him, he isn't the kind of man she'd accuse of idle flattery. But, like whatever other microexpressions she's offered up, like the way she speaks, the expression is there and then gone.

Mildly (and not completely humorlessly):
] Y' askin' if I'm a gold digger?
splint: (pic#3180497)

insert chicago musical cue here

[personal profile] splint 2013-07-10 03:30 am (UTC)(link)
[ (They're all animals in this town — he just has the nickname to go along with it. Some wrangle their way out of the system, but for the most part, it's dog eat dog, the weak serving as cannon fodder and gristle for those stronger, for those smarter than them. It's the most simplistic way of putting it, granted, but it's the kind of thing that becomes useful to keep in mind.) ]

No loose ends, no unnecessary questions — security. [ At length, she shifts, but only to cross one leg over the other. (Silent concession, if he's looking for it.) ]

Freelancin' puts people on both ends of t'e knife. Works fine f'r me, ot'ers tend not t' like it as much. Went for t' best choice, after.
splint: (pic#3180502)

THE WORST.

[personal profile] splint 2013-07-10 05:41 am (UTC)(link)
[ While others might look away or otherwise redirect their attentions, Iona keeps her gaze fixed on Cobblepot as the silence stretches, as if memorizing his features for some later reference. (It's habit, now, a single direct line in conversation despite how avoidant of contact she seems otherwise.)

It's not the follow-up question she's expecting, though she doesn't bat an eye once it's posed. There's no harm in an answer, or at least no harm that's terribly evident. Still, there's a pause before she answers, the shift of fabric audible as she raises a hand to brush her hair back from her face.
]

I do.