IC contact for maskormenace

[devoutish]

You've reached Alfie Solomons. Leave your name and state your business.

Alfie can be reached via the imPort network, or via a home phone and answering machine. He does have a cell phone, but it's not publicly available.

Comments

[devoutish]

"Powdered horn". Mm.

[The slang is lost on him - he doesn't know "randy" either. Maybe she means powdered animal horns - ivory? - for some kind of weird magic spell?]

Right, well, there's that one man out there, at least, that thinks it's possible. But if there's a market for it, if there's strong demand, it's nothing I know about.

[trouvaille]

You know, like rhino horns as aphrodisiacs.

( that industry is older than alfie; it was easier when animals weren't so close to extinction and people were more credulous about the science behind it. )

Good to know, anyway. You don't tend to forget being told about what people are prepared to do to children for money.

[devoutish]

Mm. Are you concerned about kids in particular?

[trouvaille]

I'm concerned about me, ( frankly. ) I am also small and vulnerable, I don't know if you noticed.

( she's not completely helpless. even so. )

[devoutish]

Mm. I don't believe you're as vulnerable as you say you are.

[She's too smart-mouthed, he thinks. No one who sees themselves as totally defenseless is that ornery and sarcastic - unless they're an idiot, and he really doesn't think she is.]

[trouvaille]

( the matter of gwen's smart mouth is a not uncomplicated one; as much to do with less of a self-preservation instinct than her concerns suggest and the fact she's never been forced to rely on her own ability to protect herself before as it is because she's capable of doing so.

she's capable of a lot of things she's never had to do; she's equally uncertain about actually doing them. the prey instinct that says be careful too often kicks in too late, if at all, and there have never been real consequences.

or not fatal ones, in any case. she hasn't led a life entirely without pushback. )

Maybe not entirely, ( she concedes. ) But nobody thinks the scariest thing in the room is the debutante.

[devoutish]

Yeah? Look at me.

[He raises his eyebrows and gives her a moment to do so.]

I'm no longer young. I've got a cane; I've got a bad back. I do not look like I could be the scariest thing in the room.

[trouvaille]

You do look like you're a pain in somebody's arse.

( --is a concession, in its tone, to his point. )

I don't know. I've never not had anywhere to go, you know? I could probably...do something about it...if someone threatened me. I did, once, I got kidnapped and I made him let me go. I asked nicely. We were both very surprised when he stopped the car.

( the same trick would not have worked twice with the same man; he'd been unprepared for her to be anything other than what she looked like, and she'd been lucky. still. )

But if someone threatened me I'd, you know, I'd probably tell them they'd be very sorry when my godfather had them shot or something. And he isn't here.

( or effective against supernatural and superhuman threats, for that matter. she briefly, viciously resents the fact that that's her instinct; she knows better than to believe the family myth of her godfather's infallibility, but it is the old standby. something goes wrong - call seven. he'll fix it.

well, he isn't here. and neither is anyone else. she'll have to adapt. )

[devoutish]

You need to get yourself sorted out.

[He's a lot less sharp than he would be if a man had said something similar, though. He has his 1920s gender biases, and a woman who feels insecure and isn't self-sufficient isn't scoff-worthy to him.]

Find somebody who will shoot people for you, or learn to shoot them for yourself.

[trouvaille]

It's on the to do list.

( not sarcasm, though it's gently flavoured with habitual edge; she hates helplessness almost as much as idleness. neither suit her for long, especially as she chafes against the perception of her own vulnerability even as she occasionally falls prey to it.

this is a strange, scary place; it offends her sensibility to stay scared of it. if you don't like something, she's always reasoned, look at it differently. change it.

her methods are sometimes suspect, but there you go. )

Wish I had my uncle's crowbar. People are very polite when you're holding one of those.

[devoutish]

[He raises his eyebrows.]

You can buy your own crowbar here.

[trouvaille]

I could have my own crowbar there, too, it's a metaphor.

( sort of. in that if she literally held a crowbar people would be polite because that's adorable, she thinks she's at all threatening--

after a beat, )

No one takes him seriously with it, either, he keeps it in the back of the Jag because he's really hoping someone will ask him why he has it and he can be, ( she tilts her head meaningfully to look up at him from beneath her lashes, ) mysterious, but we all know the reason is he's a twat who's watched one too many '70s mob films.

[devoutish]

A pretend gangster.

[Alfie sounds wryly amused. He doesn't think much of those guys, honestly. Sometimes they get it into their heads that they want to become real gangsters, and they almost always end up in way over their heads.]

But you - you might just do better to keep your head down. You'll get into less trouble that way.

[trouvaille]

The worst kind.

( the lucky kind; no one died extricating decimus when he ventured out of his depth, he just can't go to certain parts of italy any more and septimus has a cool gunshot scar on his shoulder, it's totally fine.

as for her, though, a little huff of air that's not disagreement, but.

there's always a but. )

I always intend to do that.

( not get into trouble. )

[devoutish]

Then why did you want to come meet me?

[He starts to walk, finally, but not like he's walking away from her and the conversation. He's slow and ambling - just taking a stroll, and expecting her to come along.]

[trouvaille]

( putin starts moving first; pauses, looks up at gwen, who - does join him. them. everybody's strolling, it's a nice little walk in the park in a seedy city with a strange man. )

Because all that really comes of keeping your head down and quietly going about your business is being utterly fucked when it all goes tits up and you weren't at all prepared.

( she intends to be somewhat prepared. )

[devoutish]

Mm. Nothing else, then, besides feeling me out?

[trouvaille]

( oh, well.

there's a thoughtful pause. gwen puts her free hand at his elbow, ladylike, and sufficiently considerate that it's not the arm attached to the hand holding a cane. )

I'm not falling into that talk about having feelings bullshit again.

( "no dipshit you're good company." )

[devoutish]

[Except putting it that way makes it clear that there is feelings bullshit involved.]

So you weren't joking about looking for a friend.

[trouvaille]

( if she really didn't want to admit it, she didn't have to, but she doesn't have to admit it nicely, not the girl whose declarations of love for people tend to at some point involve the phrases 'fuck you' and 'so there'. )

You know, I'm a nice person. People like me.

( one of those things is (inexplicably) true. )

[devoutish]

Do many nice people swear like fucking soldiers the way you do?

[He's just saying.]

[trouvaille]

( gwen considers that, very seriously. )

Everyone who's been nice to me.

[devoutish]

Well, then.

[He's hiding a smile, though.]

[trouvaille]

I can stop swearing any time I please, you know, I'm very charming when I want to be -

( but it's very tiring and boring and she only likes to do it when there's something in it for her. 'people liking the wrong version of her' is just not enough of an incentive, most of the time.

unless they're people she'd really like to approve of her, but that always seems to end in tears. )

I'd charm your socks off.

[devoutish]

Oh, I don't charm easily. Not easily manipulated, me.