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Post by Seth Doherty. on Feb 23, 2010 10:47:32 GMT -5
  ----------------------------------------SPACE CADET, PULL OUT[/font] SPACE CADET, PULL OUT.[/b] ----------------------------------------[/center] To say the Dean of The Academy was under-qualified would have been an understatement, judging from his appearance alone.
Seth was an unsettled, young man who often thought that he'd hit above his belt in entirely the wrong category. He had never aspired to manage an entire school of freaks but the responsibility was his all the same. As he sat in Alor Cafe, he looked more like an unkempt college student more than anything else, wearing his ratty brown hoody, hair constantly ran through and eyes a little bloodshot. To feel out of place didn't occur to him, and instead, he checked his watch to make sure that he was there on time, as well as to check the date; he generally wasn't very good at keeping his appointments.
Today though, he was scheduled to meet an unknown benefactor. The meeting had been scheduled through a secretary he wasn't aware of having, but he didn't question it at all. The school had lost some of its best financial contributors after the whole abduction affair, plus their academic integrity had been put under the spotlight when they let most of their students, plus a few tutors, take part in the highly publicized Monster competition during the middle of term, which had all proven to be a bust. He could afford to be picky, or even forgetful, now and so he had made his own way to Staten Island that day, not hopeful but expectant.
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Post by ajora on Feb 23, 2010 16:39:43 GMT -5
------------------------------------I WILL NOT DIE IN THE NIGHTbut in the light of the[/font][/size] SUN WITH THE ASHES OF THISworld in my lungs
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Of all the places.
New York was a rather large place as it was. Why the Dean's secretary felt that they had to were required to meet on the other side of the city, on the other side of the traffic was beyond the Vampire. Couldn't they have just talked on campus?
Then again, it might be for the best. The Academy does have a lot of cameras. Always watching. The matters to be discussed certainly needed to be kept "off the books".
Delacoix didn't know what to expect of this encounter. Gazing up at the full moon, the solitary light in the evening sky, he could only hope that he was not someinsufferable, self righteous, moral bound individual. That would certainly complicate matters. His tongue was already stroking his fangs in anticipation, knowing just what happens when someone decides not to comply.
A quiet chime sounded in the back of the restaruant as Delacoix made his appearance. Immediately, a cheery, robust waitress rounded the corner. She looked hassled, as if she was the only waitress working the joint. "Can I get you a seat lo-"
"Doherty, table for two," he interupted, not even bothering to ackowledge the flustered grin she had shot him. Instead, he simply stared around the room, searching for his table. Black eyes fell upon the only individual sitting, the only one clearly not an employee. Not waiting for the less than compotent waitress, Delacoix walked over to his table.
But he paused at the foot of his seat. There had to be some kind of mistake. The man before him was not a man, but a young man. If his nostrils hadn't already flared from the scent of the Academy, he would have thought this to be a joke. A very poor joke.
"Seth Doherty?" he asked tentatively, before taking his seat. Delacoix had to force the skepticism out of his face, not wanting to come off any more rude than he needed to. Though, it was almost laughable. Delacoix, of all people, looked older than him. At least Delacoix was 1200 years older than he looked. This man wasn't a Vampire, had no experience or age, and was running the Academy?
Low standards....
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Post by Seth Doherty. on Feb 24, 2010 9:50:38 GMT -5
----------------------------------------SPACE CADET, PULL OUT [/font] SPACE CADET, PULL OUT.[/b] ----------------------------------------[/center] "Yo, hey," Seth greeted, wearing a quirky yet affable, if a little vacant, grin. If the younger man sensed any misgivings coming off the other, he ignored it, adept in the art of letting these kind of reactions wash off him.
Seth did the customary awkward action of half getting out of his chair in respect to his guest, but didn't offer his hand to shake, instead taking the opportunity to look at the blond man - boy; the industry really was picking them young now. He was the head of a very special school though, and had been at the butt of every single kind of doubt and skepticism in history; the period surrounding the Second World War was particularly difficult for his tenor at the school. He was well aware of the fact that there could be more to the blond than appearances let on.
"Thanks for coming out here," he said, returning to his seat.
"We're going through some renovations right now, otherwise the office would have worked fine, but any opportunity to venture out, right?" His grin widened and he waved his empty glass to the waitress coming up to their table, clearly pleased by their bottle service; they didn't even ask for ID.
The Dean pulled out his iPhone from his pocket, quickly checking the time as well as looking for any notifications before glancing up at his guest; he was really blond.
"So, you wanna eat first or talk shop?" Which really wasn't any way to go about this new venture, but exercising tact had never been a favorite of his, and anyway, he realized he would be missing the twelfth session of Women's Round Robin Curling as well as Men's Ice Hockey in the Olympics. He loved the Olympics. He briefly considered texting his newfound secretary to record it on a DVR before remembering that it was bad form to ignore a guest.
"It's up to you, of course," he added, not hastily thankfully, and slid the phone back into his pocket. |
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Post by ajora on Feb 25, 2010 20:17:26 GMT -5
------------------------------------I WILL NOT DIE IN THE NIGHTbut in the light of the[/font][/size] SUN WITH THE ASHES OF THISworld in my lungs
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Delacoix found himself slowly nodding along with the conversation. This whole thing felt very, very wrong. No, not what Delacoix was conspiring to do, how he planned to do it or why. Just this man. He did not fit the role that he seemed to play. While refreshing, it was left Delacoix feeling a bit unsettled. "I'd prefer to move right along to business, but don't let me keep you from eating. It's not like this place exactly caters to my tastes..." the Vampire trailed off, already thinking ahead to what he would be eating tonight. Deciding between the steak or the salad was never a decision he longed for.
"I'll be blunt. I want to start a competition. A vocals competition. The judge will be yourself, and only yourself. I'm going to pay for any expenses that may arise from this event, including the all expenses paid two week vacation to Bermuda bestowed upon the winner. For any purpose where my name would have to come up as the sponsor, we're just going to say an anonymous sponsor," began the Vampire, keeping a calm, casual tone to things. As if this were just a friend asking for a favor.
Delacoix anticipated someone older, someone with an 'older' sense of morals. Doherty being as young as he was, there was hope yet that he could be persuaded by more conventional means. Delicious green."Of course, this isn't why I requested to meet with you. Such a thing could have been thrown together without any sort of administrative approval, of course.." he trailed off, trying to imagine the contrasting views upon the school hosting such an event, and himself. Nobody would pay attention to it at all if he ran it. And of course, it'd raise questions about the money. "Where you come in, is in rigging the competition. Hence why I requested that you take the judging seat, no? But it is not exactly as you may think. You're going to declare a draw between myself, and the other semi-finalist. I haven't decided upon this individual yet, but you will know ahead of time who you will have to advance."
Choosing to pause for a moment to let this sink in, Delacoix ran through his own words carefully, trying to recall some missed piece of information. Black eyes gazed mindlessly upon a small, silver coin retrieved from his pocket, to which he began rolling between his fingers. Shock suddenly struck his face. "Where is my etiquette? I apologize, I neglected to inform you what you'll be receiving for doing me such a pleasure. Rather, neglected to tell you to tell me what it will cost. You name it. I'll pay it." Lifting his gaze momentarily to show his aloof Dean he was not kidding, Delacoix granted him a small grin. It was true. If he could name it, right now, he could most likely have it. "Questions?"
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Post by Seth Doherty. on Feb 25, 2010 23:52:44 GMT -5
----------------------------------------SPACE CADET, PULL OUT [/font] SPACE CADET, PULL OUT.[/b] ----------------------------------------[/center] Seth quirked at eyebrow, as low as he could, when the stranger made a comment about the cafe. Upper class people were so annoying. He dealt with approximately 300+ adolescents and young adults in that particular demographic every single day, then had to meet half or whole parental units when the need arose, and also had to constantly interact with the board of governors. On the one occasion he let himself out of the privacy of the Academy, it figured that his dinner guest would be just like the rest. And he was missing the Olympics for this. Fuck my life, he thought.
"Have you seen the salad menu?" he asked instead, and collected the proffered menu from the waitress, flipping to the page in one go, "it's completely amazing. Really good on the carb count and hips."
Seth spent a long moment gazing at the salad choices, seemingly as if he were going to order one. His pretense fell short an instant later, and he flicked straight to the appetizers, where he knew already that he was going to order the Honey Shrimp; he loved those beasts.
He needed to find out the guys name, and Seth instantly put that as first on his list of things to do within the next five minutes. His motivation behind his very strange request was unknown, and his bluntness was disconcerting; did he really think that the Dean would fold to this kind of ask? But damn if they didn't need the money; constantly moving the Academy around was extremely costly. Though they already owned vast properties all over the world, the actual move itself was a great expense, and coupled with the controversies surrounding the institution from the past year and a half or so, it looked like the next location change would occur along the same time frame as when they were in Seattle - and what a catastrophe that was. He loved New York, but he would desist from staying too long if it meant that he would come to hate it like he now did Seattle.
"I'll have the Honey Shrimp and Creamy Mushroom with Shredded Chicken, no duck."
He handed the menu back to the waitress with a smile indicating that yes, that would be all from their table since his guest was a finicky one and didn't like his taste in cafes.
"And a Coors, thanks."
To the man/boy, he continued on:
"I'm on a diet. I would have picked some fancy place in Manhattan but I can only stand that place in small doses, sorry."
He sipped from the water placed at his table and wished for bread sticks. He was really hungry now, and that was winning over his annoyance for missing the hockey game.
"Look, I'm going to be honest with you, the idea of a very large donation from you, no questions asked, sounds great. It's awesome. But you have to realize that we're not a vocals specializing school, or anything of the music variety for the matter."
The not-so-young Dean sighed. Moneeeeeey. Lots of it. He really didn't want to turn it down. If he could just get the guy across from him to promise that there would be no raping, murdering or pillaging to take place, than the deal was so done.
"That's not the point though. I'm gonna need some assurances from you, man. I run a school, we're talking about children. Why does this thing need to be rigged? What are you gonna get out of this? I don't even know your name." [/color][/blockquote] |
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Post by ajora on Feb 27, 2010 23:05:28 GMT -5
------------------------------------I WILL NOT DIE IN THE NIGHTbut in the light of the[/font][/size] SUN WITH THE ASHES OF THISworld in my lungs
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He could only bite his lip as Seth rambled on about the menu. Somehow, he hadn't manage to piece together Delacoix's race yet, if he ever would. There was even the possibilty of him not knowing about Vampires at all. Delacoix himself could not imagine someone in his position not knowing. But humans never ceased to surprise...
"Look, I'm going to be honest with you, the idea of a very large donation from you, no questions asked, sounds great. It's awesome. But you have to realize that we're not a vocals specializing school, or anything of the music variety for the matter." Of course it was. Humans had an incredible aptitude for greed, one that Delacoix never found himself reveling in. It might be that he had everything anyways. Or perhaps it was that the fear of mortality never played a role in his decisions. Something he came to accept he'd never understand.
But oh, how he could manipulate it.
"That's not the point though. I'm gonna need some assurances from you, man. I run a school, we're talking about children. Why does this thing need to be rigged? What are you gonna get out of this? I don't even know your name."
This was something that Delacoix expected trouble with. The whole matter of "why". Such a powerful word. He knew his lies would not be enough to quell the need to understand. Humans, much like Vampires, were just too curious. This is where the money came in. Lots of it.
"Do not get me wrong, sir, this isn't intended as that kind of competition. Think of highschools and colleges around the country. They all have stupid little things like a battle of the bands, or a talent show. While such events are most obviously a display of skill, they are secondly, and no less importantly, a social event. A manner for students to meet knew students. Just another fun thing to do on a Friday night. Casual."
And now the fun part. To watch Seth squirm, to struggle between morality and a fuck-ton of cash. Humans were like instruments; if the strings were pulled in right manner, beautiful music would follow.
"You can call me Rêve. As for why I'm doing this... I respect your concern. But this won't be a "child" that I'm trying to establish this event with. This I promise you before anything begins. Furthermore, I want this, uh, "rigged", because..." Delacoix sighed. He couldn't believe he was going to say this. He couldn't believe it was actually true, in the case of Rebel anyways. "Well. Think of it as a really, really expensive date. I'm a perfectionist, and I want the manner in which we share this first meeting to be memorable and incomparible to that of any other."
Without much more hesitation, the Vampire drew out a small notepad and pen. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the waitress already returning with something in her hand. Sighing, he began to write, slowly.
"This is my offer to you, Seth. This is in addition to myself paying to anything that arises from this event. You can keep it yourself, put it into the school... Whatever pleases you. The only string attached, is that this tie is declared between myself and the other, and that we aren't going to be snooping about as to why, later. You'll also receive this double this offer once this has been completed. So in theory, you're earning three times this number."
The note was ripped, folded, then placed upon the table. With a single finger he slowly pushed it across the tablecloth until it was sitting right under Seth's nose. Neatly folded, and begging to be opened, sat the most expensive piece of paper Seth would ever grasp, written in crimson ink;
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Post by Seth Doherty. on Feb 28, 2010 1:31:52 GMT -5
----------------------------------------SPACE CADET, PULL OUT [/font] SPACE CADET, PULL OUT.[/b] ----------------------------------------[/center] The Dean made a small hand motion at Rêve's first reason. His students really didn't need any more mediums or platforms to meet other students; the second floor of the residence building closest to his office always hosted Saturday night parties. He knew this to be fact because he went there more religiously than he did work, and Sunday morning would find him passed out on the couch in his office instead of Church. There was also the various social clubs that he encouraged as well as guilds and organizations he supported; thanks to his efforts alone, the Student Guild had over 3,000 fans on facebook.
"Jesus, Rêve, not gonna pull any stops for this girl? She must be special."
And she went to his school. Seth could hardly believe it. They were all special of course (his favorite was the radioactive girl and her spontaneous explosions. He was heavily suggestive about his desire for her to become a superhero and loved setting her off in his least favorite cities or parts of the Academy), but he never imagined that they would be good people.
The expression on his face indicated that his comment wasn't meant to be anything other than flippant; Seth wasn't interested in hearing how great one of his students were and he doubted the Rêve guy was one for sharing. While the other man went about scrawling on his notepad, Seth leaned on the table, elbow in perfect sight. He was not being obnoxious, or he at least wasn't trying, but Rêve's air of long-suffering wasn't being met well by the Dean. It was contagious, if nothing else, but the young-looking man listened to his guest with a patience he didn't generally possess.
Seth accepted the folded piece of paper, not indifferent but braced. He had seen money before; through donations, fundraisers, gifts, pay-offs and situations just like the one he was in now. Dinners with anonymous benefactors or associations in order to buy the required service or attitude from the Dean. His tenure was long but not incomparable; he still remembered an odd night back in 1943 and the compromise he had had to reach in order to maintain the secrecy of his school and the subsequent suspicion of harboring German soldiers that befell him. The new century, in contrast to the dark nature and depression pre-1950's, brought him out of self-imposed seclusion, and he along with The Academy became front row ticket holders to colorful, deep-pocketed personalities they hadn't been privy to for decades. Those of that kind had graduated though, and the last rich bastard Seth had actually liked had dropped out a year earlier; glib, monthly cheques were rare these days.
The figure presented was enough to make him sit up a whole lot straighter and ignore the waitress entirely when she placed the Honey Shrimp in front of him. He made a low whistling noise, which was really only an exhaling of all the misgivings and doubts inside of him. $15M wasn't the kind of money he could easily recoup elsewhere.
"Wow," he said, speechless for once. There was only one response in a time like this, he just had to untangle his stomach from his throat and get it out.
"I think you're crazy, but hell, I'd go on a freaking date with you if you're gonna dish like this."
Seth shook his head, replacing the paper back on the table. He had to be a professional now.
"The figure on the paper is a deposit. You wire a quarter of what's left every week, until the last quarter has been finalized before the student gets on a plane with you. If they don't come back, I never want to see you again. No hard feelings bro, but I can't have something weigh on my conscience like that."
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Post by ajora on Feb 28, 2010 19:52:44 GMT -5
------------------------------------I WILL NOT DIE IN THE NIGHTbut in the light of the[/font][/size] SUN WITH THE ASHES OF THISworld in my lungs
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There's a shadow in the heart of every man darker than that of any Demon. And it's name was greed.
A complete loss of tact, what little tact Delacoix considered this man to have, was apparent at the sight of the many figures upon the small piece of paper. It entertained the Vampire greatly, who couldn't contain an arrogant smirk any longer. He liked wining. But then again, who really enjoys losing?
"Wow," he began, mouth moving with no further words escaping. Truth be told, Delacoix had no clue what kind of funding the school saw, or what kind of payroll he man was on. His offer was only an initial one; if Seth had refused he could have gone much, much higher. He wouldn't have enjoyed doing so, but he would have.
"I think you're crazy, but hell, I'd go on a freaking date with you if you're gonna dish like this." An eyebrow slowly forced its way upwards, changing the look of arrogance upon the face of Delacoix to one of intrigue. Oh yes, Delacoix certainly swung that way. Given, Seth was a tad young for him, but he did run the Academy. There had to be some of the maturity that he adored in there somewhere. Maybe.
"Heh... Perhaps if this whole plan of mine falls apart, I'll take you up on that one." There wasn't any sarcasm in that remark. No hinting to it being some kind of joke. And it almost immediatly struck a nerve, triggering a stint of professionalism from Seth.
"The figure on the paper is a deposit. You wire a quarter of what's left every week, until the last quarter has been finalized before the student gets on a plane with you. If they don't come back, I never want to see you again. No hard feelings bro, but I can't have something weigh on my conscience like that." The professionalism was contagious. Delacoix ceased to grin, and pulled back into a more upright position.
"Of course. I don't think it comes as a surprise that I'm no stranger to such financial transactions," the Vampire nodded, pushing his seat from the table. His goal had been achieved, he needn't linger any longer and risk exposure. "And trust me. You don't want to be seeing me again, regardless of what happens. Goodnight, Seth Doherty." Tossing a $50 bill onto the table, the Vampire took a small bow before taking his leave. Yes, he hadn't been responsible for the bill, but was was responsible for dragging Seth out the the restaurant. It was just common courtesy. A favor, for someone doing else granting a favor. After all, Seth did just grant permission for the Corporation to man-handle the Academy as they pleased.
Delacoix allowed no further hesitations in exiting the building. The very second he escaped, his Blackberry found his hands, and he began to type.
Re: PROJECT LOOKING GLASS;;
Second objective in progress. Primary will ensue shortly there-after. Might need a loan for this one...
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Post by Seth Doherty. on Mar 6, 2010 0:05:38 GMT -5
----------------------------------------SPACE CADET, PULL OUT [/font] SPACE CADET, PULL OUT.[/b] ----------------------------------------[/center] Seth bit back a reflexive expression at the other man's proposition; two hundred plus years of living hadn't encouraged a certain sense of curiosity or compulsion to experiment. He still liked women, even if he despaired in people as a whole. The glib line was forgotten, or ignored; it was hard to tell judging from Seth's face alone. He was ostentatiously blank, if nothing else, and often enjoyed long and tortuous poker games.
Though he didn't say anything in response to Rêve's parting words, the slight glimpse of reaction he allowed to slip past his casual demeanor was enough to indicate that his leaving guest irked him. It was never comforting to impart that a 'business' deal such as this had occurred before; expensive date it may be in face value, Seth couldn't shake the feeling that that wasn't all there was to the strange requests.
If there was ever a list of grievances put against him, he knew that it would be long; he was notoriously bad tempered in mornings, he battled a chronic drinking problem, he knew the names of only 2 students in a school that administered around 500 (or so he thought anyway, he hadn't checked the admittance record in about 30 years), he himself never balanced the books and he was prone to spending money on whims like guild shirts and impromptu class trips to Cairo. This was to never assume that he didn't care about his students though. Most of the current student body were children of past students, who in turn were children of even older alumni. It instilled a sense of responsibility in him, at the very least, which was not at all inspired by the fact that he wouldn't have children of his own.
The Dean neatly tucked the 50 note underneath his water glass, and accepted the Coors when it was brought to him, nodding in thanks, right before asking;
"Can I actually have this to go?"
He needed to think as well as a very specific amount of time to acquaint himself with all his students; even if it would eventuate that he would know who the student being rigged to win was before anyone else, he still wanted to know why. |
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