over and over they call us their friends

[whattigerscanchange]

Who: Odessa and Vicious.
What: Taking stock and touching base.
Where: Brock Marsh.
When: The day following Vicious' visit to Spike.
Notes: Beginning with a network conversation, moving into a log.
Warnings: Discussion of drug use.

She's been staring at the piece of magical technology in her hands. It's not like that time she was given her first portable CD player and she thought it was magic; the CiDs are actually magic, which makes them somehow untrustworthy to a woman of science. And above and beyond all of that, there's something wrong with it. Not just hers, but others' as well. She's seen the occasional slip up on the network - someone's filter gone awry so thoughts are shared with the cohort, sometimes a "wrong number." The biggest tip is in the reaction from the city's Militia. She's decided that it isn't just the riots to blame. She's seen the military reel after such events before. There's something else going on now. There was something else then.

But still, life is expected to go on, and operations are expected to move forward in the city. Odessa has rebranded Ophis Industries to Primacy Technical, Incorporated (and someone should slap her in the face for it), on the advice of one of her new benefactors. While the city is used to its denizens coming and going, it seemed better to re-emerge with a new name to go with the new face of the company Odessa inherited. And business has kept the young entrepreneur busy enough to cut back on her hours at the Glory Shada, taking appointments only, rather than working emergency. It's been nice, if she's honest. (She so rarely is.)

Her thumb presses the send button, and she waits for the screen to indicate that she's connected with a contact she's labelled Adam Yenrai. "Something's wrong," suffices as greeting. She keeps the video feed off, with tape over the camera lens to avoid any accidental broadcast. "I think we should meet at my building." Not her home, of course, where she's drawn the curtains and is decidedly ignoring the night life. "Can that be arranged?"

Comments

[whattigerscanchange]

"Of course." Odessa bows her head in a way that's gracious, while also suggesting a certain amount of submissiveness to him. "One I have in mind used to work for my former partner." Partner is being rather generous about her relationship with Rex Lewis, in any sense of the word, but it isn't as if the man is here to set any records straight, is it? "There were never any issues before, but I obviously respect whatever decision you make. It's not like I'm..." While she pretends to search for the word she wants, she uncrosses and recrosses her legs, right over left now. It's a somewhat girlish fidget, but it stops short of actually swinging her feet. (Not that that's an option with the low seating anyway.)

Her lips curve into a sly smile as she seems to settle on, "Attached."

[redeye]

Vicious was not in Baedal while Odessa's former partner was, and his knowledge of that man and whatever other employees he had is limited - though it seems harmless on the surface, he is skeptical and duly paranoid, because he isn't stupid. He looks at her frankly, his gaze taking on a slightly more human, personal weight, like it does sometimes in small breaths in between his cold professionalism.

"I don't mean to isolate you," he says, of his insistence on overseeing her contacts. "But the work I've asked you to do is dangerous, and I do not recklessly endanger people important to my interests."

He is protective. Of her. (It is a mild implication, but one he knows Odessa will see; he knows because she wants to see it - something he also knows.)

[whattigerscanchange]

"Aww, Vicious." Odessa wrinkles her nose playfully, but successfully fights back the urge to giggle. While she's often aware, and wary, of being played, she has historically done very little to actually prevent or combat it. Call her crazy (she is), but she enjoys it in some way. "I'm glad you consider me such a lucrative investment." Asserting that she has no illusions about being anything more than a business venture is all part of it.

[redeye]

He leans forward slightly - not menacing (.. sure), merely the consequence of shifting his weight so his elbows are rested on his knees. The expression on his face is not quite a smile, but something hinting at that difficult-to-pin sense of humor again.

"Are you teasing me, Ms Wander?"

[whattigerscanchange]

Her natural instinct is to lean forward in return, and she indulges, resting the points of her elbows on the gentler peak made by her bent knee. Fingers threaded together, she rests her chin on their backs. It's not at all a ploy to show off her cleavage (probably). She doesn't even instruct him to use her title of doctor like she would most anyone else. Some people you just don't correct, and some people just don't need to be corrected. Vicious falls neatly into both categories.

There's the faintest change in her gaze, like it's gone darker somehow. "I would never," she assures in an even voice, and it's true in the sense that she'd never poke fun at him. As for the other interpretations of the word tease, well... "Unless you asked me to."

[redeye]

(To be entirely fair to Odessa - Vicious probably wouldn't remember even if she did correct him; he just doesn't come from a subculture where academic titles mean anything, and are rarely present. Ms sounds formal as hell to a street-born gangster.)

"Pretty forward." He puts his hands on his knees and pushes himself to his feet in a movement that looks like it should be accompanied by creaking noises, then- "You look like you're dressed to go out."