(no subject)
ooc: Okay, to explain this log, certain assumptions have been made, mostly that there has been a somewhat stready flow of jobs and information between Travis and Emma, and they have come to a certain easy terms in their treatment of each other. So.
8/18/2005
Logfile from Emma.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hellfire Clubhouse - Emma's Office
Normal channels of communication, or as normal as possible, have delivered a message requesting Mr. Reed's resence as soon as convenient. That was a few hours ago, and in the interm, Emma has settled in for another night in the Hellfire Clubhouse, this time to be closer to the City for an early morning teleconference call to Tokyo. Thusly, she's settling in to a bit of light meditation before Sebastian and all his psychic energy return to barrage her shields. Especially if he doesn't return alone. Hmph.
Well, Travis is nothing if not prompt. Or at least prompt after dealing with a few miscellaneous tasks, none of them necessarily pressing, but still, he's not just to the 'How high?' jump command. Well, yet. So it's not more than a few hours before he arrives, presents himself to security and makes his way up, pausing mere secondsto glance himself over before knocking on the office door.
Emma ignores the insistant buzzing for a few seconds, then rolls to her feet and pads over to her desk to slap the intercom. "What? ... Oh. Yes, send him up. No, no escort. He knows his way." So, by the time Travis makes his appearance, she's settled at her desk, bare feet pulled into the chair. << Come on in, Travis, >> she purrs to him a splitsecond before his knock lands.
Even knowing about it still doesn't take the slight unnerving edge off of other voices in his head, but Travis completes his knock without faltering, waiting just a moment before pulling the door open, sliding inside and closing it behind him. "Good evening to you, Ms. Frost," he says, letting a quick smile of greeting flash across his face as he steps into the room, finding a position behind one of the chairs at the desk and letting his palms rest on its back. "I hope all's well in your world. I heard you wanted to see me."
Emma stretches a leg out over the chair arm, using her foot to push against the desk, swinging the chair around in a lazy pivot. "Mmm... No, actually. Things are not well." Lashes lower over speculative blue eyes, and she reaches out to press an index finger to a manilla folder (INFAMOUS MANILLA FOLDERS OF DOOM!) and swirls it on the desktop. "I need your services."
"I expected as much," Travis nods, sliding around the chair toward the desk. He reaches for the envelope, his hand pauses, hovering over it. "May I?"
"Mmm," and she pushes it further under his hand, lifting her finger so her nail trails his palm as she removes it. Inside is an extensive list of names, some of them with fairly detailed bios already, some with just a name and a bit of notation at the side. "These people. I need them. I need to know anything and everything about them, and I need you to put them under my control. They're variables, and I don't like variables."
Travis drops his finger tips to the envelope, slowly sliding it slowly across the desktop to drop into his --ahem-- other hand. That done, he quickly flips it open, pulling the papers out and flipping through them, eyes widening slightly at a few of the names, merely nodding at others. "Any particular realms you want specifically explored or avoided?"
"Nothing is to be left out. I want to know who they meet with, what was said, when they get up in the morning, when they go to bed, and with who, what the color of their underwear is. There are games developing, and I don't play by the rules."
Travis finishes glancing through the list and slips them back into the envelope, sealing it and tucking it away under his windbreaker, which he slowly zips up, letting the teeth click click click. "I can have a few of those names to you within a fortnight," he states. "Some of the others may take longer to discover the details of their... unmentionables."
Emma smiles lazily, going back to her slow chair spin. "I'm sure you're more than competent at discovering... unmentionable details," she smirks, holding her head turn until last, so that eye contact is maintained. "There are one or two names in there that you don't have to waste your investigative talents on. I want them out of commission. Completely out of commission."
Travis lifts an eyebrow, holding the gaze for several moments before finally ending it with a swift nod. "Consider it done. Completely."
Emma nods sharply and drops her feet, hopping out of her chair and coming around the edge of the desk. "Good, good. So glad we understand each other. You've turned into one of my better investments, Travis, darling. I /am/ rather glad you didn't force my hand." She winks and turns, crossing to pull a picture from the wall, revealing a horribly cliche safe.
"Oh, I think you'll find I'm much more with the slow and take your time," Travis says, letting one hand fall to the desk to support some of his weight. "Much better results that way, or so I've found."
"Oh? Doesn't it tax your patience sometimes, though?" she banters back, spinning the knob through a series of numbers. Not a complicated safe and not a complicated combination. It's more just a place to put her purse. ;) She withdraws a number of high figure bills and holds them out, making him cross the room to her to get them. "I think this should get you started. Your usual fee, plus a bonus if I'm... satisfied?" She lifts her chin and a brow.
"Never," Travis replies, sidestepping the desk to approach. "Patience /is/ a virtue, whatever the... nature of its applications." He leans in, propping a hand against the wall, as the other reaches for the money, eyes not breaking contact. "More than enough to get me...started. As for the satisfied, well, I /am/ trying to work on modesty, which I hear is another...virtue, so I'll leave that evaluation up to you."
Emma holds on to the edge of the bills just past the point of a good tug, then opens her fingers wide and smirks at him. "Do you trust me to judge fairly?"
Travis slides the cash deep into the front pockets of his jeans, a smile playing at one corner of his mouth. "Oh, I'm sure you know how to recognize the finer points that would deserve good marks."
Emma drops her eyes to the pocket the money disappears into (The pocket! The pocket!), a sly little smile twitching her lips. Her gaze drifts back up and she just stares, mild challenge in her mein. "You'll have to put a demonstration on for me then." A pause, and a mischevious glimmer. "Next week. You can impress me then. Goodnight, darling."
"I do prefer interactive learning to pure demonstration," Travis says, resuming normal stance and flicking imaginary dust off his shirt front. "Next week it is. I'll see what I've found by then. There will be unmentionables to be seen, I'm certain." With that, he turns, striding across the room, stopping at the door just for a quick "Good evening," before heading out.
8/18/2005
Logfile from Emma.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hellfire Clubhouse - Emma's Office
Normal channels of communication, or as normal as possible, have delivered a message requesting Mr. Reed's resence as soon as convenient. That was a few hours ago, and in the interm, Emma has settled in for another night in the Hellfire Clubhouse, this time to be closer to the City for an early morning teleconference call to Tokyo. Thusly, she's settling in to a bit of light meditation before Sebastian and all his psychic energy return to barrage her shields. Especially if he doesn't return alone. Hmph.
Well, Travis is nothing if not prompt. Or at least prompt after dealing with a few miscellaneous tasks, none of them necessarily pressing, but still, he's not just to the 'How high?' jump command. Well, yet. So it's not more than a few hours before he arrives, presents himself to security and makes his way up, pausing mere secondsto glance himself over before knocking on the office door.
Emma ignores the insistant buzzing for a few seconds, then rolls to her feet and pads over to her desk to slap the intercom. "What? ... Oh. Yes, send him up. No, no escort. He knows his way." So, by the time Travis makes his appearance, she's settled at her desk, bare feet pulled into the chair. << Come on in, Travis, >> she purrs to him a splitsecond before his knock lands.
Even knowing about it still doesn't take the slight unnerving edge off of other voices in his head, but Travis completes his knock without faltering, waiting just a moment before pulling the door open, sliding inside and closing it behind him. "Good evening to you, Ms. Frost," he says, letting a quick smile of greeting flash across his face as he steps into the room, finding a position behind one of the chairs at the desk and letting his palms rest on its back. "I hope all's well in your world. I heard you wanted to see me."
Emma stretches a leg out over the chair arm, using her foot to push against the desk, swinging the chair around in a lazy pivot. "Mmm... No, actually. Things are not well." Lashes lower over speculative blue eyes, and she reaches out to press an index finger to a manilla folder (INFAMOUS MANILLA FOLDERS OF DOOM!) and swirls it on the desktop. "I need your services."
"I expected as much," Travis nods, sliding around the chair toward the desk. He reaches for the envelope, his hand pauses, hovering over it. "May I?"
"Mmm," and she pushes it further under his hand, lifting her finger so her nail trails his palm as she removes it. Inside is an extensive list of names, some of them with fairly detailed bios already, some with just a name and a bit of notation at the side. "These people. I need them. I need to know anything and everything about them, and I need you to put them under my control. They're variables, and I don't like variables."
Travis drops his finger tips to the envelope, slowly sliding it slowly across the desktop to drop into his --ahem-- other hand. That done, he quickly flips it open, pulling the papers out and flipping through them, eyes widening slightly at a few of the names, merely nodding at others. "Any particular realms you want specifically explored or avoided?"
"Nothing is to be left out. I want to know who they meet with, what was said, when they get up in the morning, when they go to bed, and with who, what the color of their underwear is. There are games developing, and I don't play by the rules."
Travis finishes glancing through the list and slips them back into the envelope, sealing it and tucking it away under his windbreaker, which he slowly zips up, letting the teeth click click click. "I can have a few of those names to you within a fortnight," he states. "Some of the others may take longer to discover the details of their... unmentionables."
Emma smiles lazily, going back to her slow chair spin. "I'm sure you're more than competent at discovering... unmentionable details," she smirks, holding her head turn until last, so that eye contact is maintained. "There are one or two names in there that you don't have to waste your investigative talents on. I want them out of commission. Completely out of commission."
Travis lifts an eyebrow, holding the gaze for several moments before finally ending it with a swift nod. "Consider it done. Completely."
Emma nods sharply and drops her feet, hopping out of her chair and coming around the edge of the desk. "Good, good. So glad we understand each other. You've turned into one of my better investments, Travis, darling. I /am/ rather glad you didn't force my hand." She winks and turns, crossing to pull a picture from the wall, revealing a horribly cliche safe.
"Oh, I think you'll find I'm much more with the slow and take your time," Travis says, letting one hand fall to the desk to support some of his weight. "Much better results that way, or so I've found."
"Oh? Doesn't it tax your patience sometimes, though?" she banters back, spinning the knob through a series of numbers. Not a complicated safe and not a complicated combination. It's more just a place to put her purse. ;) She withdraws a number of high figure bills and holds them out, making him cross the room to her to get them. "I think this should get you started. Your usual fee, plus a bonus if I'm... satisfied?" She lifts her chin and a brow.
"Never," Travis replies, sidestepping the desk to approach. "Patience /is/ a virtue, whatever the... nature of its applications." He leans in, propping a hand against the wall, as the other reaches for the money, eyes not breaking contact. "More than enough to get me...started. As for the satisfied, well, I /am/ trying to work on modesty, which I hear is another...virtue, so I'll leave that evaluation up to you."
Emma holds on to the edge of the bills just past the point of a good tug, then opens her fingers wide and smirks at him. "Do you trust me to judge fairly?"
Travis slides the cash deep into the front pockets of his jeans, a smile playing at one corner of his mouth. "Oh, I'm sure you know how to recognize the finer points that would deserve good marks."
Emma drops her eyes to the pocket the money disappears into (The pocket! The pocket!), a sly little smile twitching her lips. Her gaze drifts back up and she just stares, mild challenge in her mein. "You'll have to put a demonstration on for me then." A pause, and a mischevious glimmer. "Next week. You can impress me then. Goodnight, darling."
"I do prefer interactive learning to pure demonstration," Travis says, resuming normal stance and flicking imaginary dust off his shirt front. "Next week it is. I'll see what I've found by then. There will be unmentionables to be seen, I'm certain." With that, he turns, striding across the room, stopping at the door just for a quick "Good evening," before heading out.