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]

"The purer formula more aggressively reacts with the SLC gene - the genetic quirk that gives people their powers where I come from." She taps one of the remaining vials with her red-painted nails, enjoying the little muted tink! sound it makes. "This version, Cobalt, is generally cut with another hallucinogen. This at least gives it some appeal to the more mundane user. The sense of euphoria won't be as powerful as it will be for someone with abilities, but... It's there, and it should be enough."

To get a user hooked, presumably. Odessa isn't sure when she decided pushing drugs might actually make for a lucrative career move, but she can't deny its financial benefits right now.

"I wish I could take credit for its creation. It was initially developed by a previous employer of mine in an attempt to create abilities in baseline human subjects. This was not the intended result, but its redevised use has served well enough." Science is funny like that. Odessa raises her brows and raises her slightly irregular stare to make eye contact with him. She leans back and crosses one leg over the other, clasping her hands together over her knee. "Are you interested?"

A sliver of a grin is meant to sweeten the pot, as is the assertion: "I thought of you first."

[redeye]

"I'm flattered."

(Well, of course she thought of him, he's keeping her quite busy.)

"It's worth developing," he says after another moment, and sets the vial back in her briefcase. "There's market opportunity for the repurposed use." Anything that incites euphoria in otherwise unattainable extremes is always an easy sell - memories will make it niche; even just as a sex drug, replaying experience after experience, will have appeal.

He sits back in his chair. "The trick with production is hitting the right balance between potency addictiveness. Not enough and it'll die out no matter the impact, and too much will burn people through. And once it's properly field tested," in the masses of the city's drug culture, who will fund this out of the goodness of their hearts, "it can be stripped down and patented as medication."

Even in narcotics, quality is important.

[whattigerscanchange]

There's a glimmer in her eye that's equal parts amusement and self-satisfaction. "It's so nice to work with a real professional," she muses. She's used to a more direct route to the pharmaceutical endgame. Dallying on the illicit end of things is, in her mind, much more fun. "I enjoy your appreciation of my work."

She smooths her hands over her skirt before resting them at either side of herself on the couch cushions. "I'll get to work on it, then. Get together a few sample batches to leak to the street market. Shouldn't be too hard to gauge consumer reaction from there." In a city like this? It's not quite New York, is it? "You can have this batch. I'll have others ready for you soon. I believe I'll have more assistance in my laboratory again before long."

[redeye]

"I'll send someone to handle the street aspect." There's no need to distract her or potentially delegitimize her, considering her job at the Glory Shada. Vicious is keenly aware of the necessity of above-board community ties, and that position is an asset both to Odessa herself, and Vicious' own interests.

"Once existing orders are settled," meaning the weapons situation, of course, "Make this your priority." He taps his fingertips, once, against the edge of the briefcase. It's implicit agreement to fund development - which may be getting himself into a steep investment, but should it work the way she says, it'd turn over and be in the black in no time. Baedal is different from the galaxy at home, where drugs carried higher risk and reward - here, they're far more commonplace, and weapons are the more difficult angle. It'll be good to have a steady cash turnover to anchor that endeavor.

"Your assistants will need to be vetted."

[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."