latrodectus: (the angsty italian sunrise)
Natasha R. ([personal profile] latrodectus) wrote in [community profile] capeandcowllogs2012-08-15 02:03 pm

(no subject)

WHO: Natasha ([personal profile] latrodectus), Daken ([personal profile] trollverine)
WHERE: Monaco
WHEN: Last… weekend?
WARNINGS: This is a log designed for maximum smug rich people in fancy clothing.
SUMMARY: Daken and Natasha meet on reconnaissance in Monte Carlo.
FORMAT: Up to Meg!

It was the beginning of a strict season. All over the papers, borders closing, scribbles of protest signs. There was nothing that could make you want to stretch your legs quite like the bars of a cage. That was psychology.

Natasha heard a lot of things, too many things for her to listen to. But this stood out. There was an arms deal going down tonight, in the gilded back rooms of this casino. She didn't need to go, she didn't have to stop it. But it was the beginning of a strict season, and she'd been seeing a lot of bars. So Natasha booked a suite in the Hôtel de Paris and booked a train ticket up from Milan. She planned on finding out all that she could, with the sort of all-access pass being a pretty girl can get you.
trollverine: (pic#3656129)

[personal profile] trollverine 2012-08-16 10:07 pm (UTC)(link)
The enforcement of laws was a funny thing. As a goal, it was unattainable; a governing body could only hope to control a handful of problems at any given time: drunk driving crackdowns, domestic violence campaigns, see something, say something posters plastered on subway walls.

But resources were finite. Something had to be sacrificed. When a country chose to dedicate its time and money and uniformed pawns to blocking a certain kind of trespasser, opportunities were created.

Daken was in Monte Carlo looking for opportunities. Information would be easy to find, in this playground of the rich: people talked when they thought they were among equals, and he wasn't the only one who understood that the ImBargo Act made a perfect smokescreen.

He was wandering the casino floor with a drink in his hand, eavesdropping. Red hair caught his eye, as it often did. It took him half a second to confirm, through the crowd, who he was looking at.

He knew that the more photogenic Avengers sometimes showed up in places like this, for what he had assumed were public relations purposes, or because they had been socialites in their ordinary lives. He had done a little research while pretending to be one. Perhaps she was promoting a cause: tell your friends not to close the door on us.

But speculation was boring. He moved across the room, his eyes never leaving her.
trollverine: (NEVER BOTHER ME)

[personal profile] trollverine 2012-08-20 04:11 am (UTC)(link)
It only took him a minute. Any man with ego to burn and an eye for beauty could have seen her there, alone, and Daken didn't feel like waiting his turn.

He set his glass down next to her and leaned against the bar, his back to the wall, watching the casino floor. "I was going to ask if I could buy you a drink. Alas."
trollverine: (i had to read deadpool to get this)

[personal profile] trollverine 2012-08-24 03:28 am (UTC)(link)
It was to her credit that she was so unaffected. So far, anyway.

"As a citizen of..." he paused, searching for something more descriptive and less ridiculous than 'the City'; "--your domain, what message should I take from this? Do the Avengers represent the American Dream? Vault to the top of social ladder and throw away the kind of money the average powerless man, literally and figuratively, will never touch?"

The shot wasn't likely to hit dead on (it was too cynical, and if he'd learned nothing, it was that superheroes actually did have lofty ideals), but that wasn't the point.
Edited ("it were.") 2012-08-24 03:29 (UTC)