new orleans ♔ so everybody just follow me cuz we need a little controversy

[starfucker]

♬ Rock and Roll Lifestyle - Cake

WHO || Martha, Des, Finnick, Kat, Dumage [closed]
WHAT || The Knights check out NOVA Records to try and find out more information about co-owner Chad Becksworth and his connection to the Brotherhood of the Enlightenment/Jade/the Talisman
WHERE || NOVA Records HQ, New Orleans, LA
WHEN || Tuesday, May 1st, 2012; daytime
HOW || Actionspam

[ The offices of NOVA Records seem to be a hoppin' place.  Fancy dressed execs and stylish people who look important and wear hoity sunglasses stream in and out of the glass doors, and no one seems to pay the group any particular mind when they walk into the large, spacious white lobby.  A large square pool dominates this side of the room, the NOVA label emblazoned on the tiles below the water.   A side staircase leads to an upper balcony, but most traffic seems to be to and from the elevator banks on the right side of the room, and into the hallways back behind the large black front desk.  

At the desk sits a redheaded secretary, with perfectly curled long hair and too-red lipstick.   A security guard stands against the wall behind her, staring straight ahead, a gun visible on his hip.  ] 

Comments

[65]

[He allows himself to be ushered bc fuck if he knows what's even going on.] I can't wait. [At least he does the flippant self-important part well ... ]

[postergirl]

All in good time darling. [ She'll take his other arm, comfortably wrapping herself around it, so that he looks extra pimp. Yep. And then direct them towards one of the elevators that only has a couple other people going into it.

Buttons are available for 15 floors, and then a service key button for "B" as well. Two men in suits and ties, and a woman in a smart business skirt eye them up, but say nothing. ]

[nothingsodivine]

[Des grins at them and nods, hitting the button for the next floor up] Hi. Hope you're not claustrophobic. Our boy here tends to get a little on edge when he's in elevators, but you should be fine if you give him a wide berth.

[18 bluff check. Get out of the elevator, dudes.]

[shootfirst]

[ There's an immediate shift in the atmosphere of the group, as they press themselves closer to the outskirts of the elevator, eyeing him nervously. As soon as the door dings open on level two, they can't push past each other fast enough to get out. Kat sticks her finger on the 'close door' button, and holds it. One person tries to rush to enter but she just holds an arm across the door. ] Sorry, amigo. Ocupado. [ The doors slide closed again, and she hits the button for the top floor. ]

[65]

Isn't there a way to make it ignore requests to stop on other floors? [they have that in the capitol, okay.]

[postergirl]

There certainly is. [ Dumage will smugly move Kat out of the way with a hip, and then place a finger on both the 'close door' and top floor buttons, holding them. ] Comes in handy for all sorts of things.

[nothingsodivine]

This is going better than expected. [Des leans on the back wall.] Good to know I'm still a good judge of character. [He grins at Finnick.]

[shootfirst]

You do realize it's totally bad luck to say that before we've even gotten very far in the door? [ Yes, Des, she is going to hold you accountable if you just jinxed everything. ] We're not even to the hard part yet.

[ Speaking of which. The elevator sails up and up and then dings open pleasantly on the 15th floor. There's a large white room here that seems sparse except for the really expensive funky decorations hanging here and there. In the middle is a desk behind which a very young, very curvy, very blonde thing that looks like she has little to no business being a secretary sits, filing her nails. A few green comfortable lounge chairs litter the sides of the room. ]

[65]

[He turns to look at Des judgmentally.] What's that supposed to mean?

[But before he can find out, bam they're on the 15th floor. Finnick learned his lesson. He's not saying shit. That's for the little people ie everyone else.]

[postergirl]

[ Dumage pats him on the arm, even as she takes it once more, and steers him out, boldly marching up towards the desk. ]

We're here to see Mr. Becksworth. [ She gives a smug glance in Finnick's direction. ] New talent.

[ Dumage's confidence is remarkably convincing in and of itself (as in like a diplomacy check of almost 30 levels of convincing), and the secretary glances at the rest of the group only briefly, her gaze seeming to snag on Finnick and become reluctant to leave what she sees there.

"Name?" she asks, as she smiles demurely at him through her lashes. ]

[65]

Finnick.

[He's got this part down now! Luckily ... ]

[shootfirst]

[ "Finnick," she repeats, as if committing that to memory. "One moment, please." Her hand moves to the phone, and she buzzes in something on speakerphone. "Mr. Becksworth? I have a ... Finnick here to see you."

A very unconcerned sounding voice drifts out of the speaker: "Who the fuck ordered that guy? Send him packing."

It seems to occur to her too late that speakerphone might not have been a good idea, and she casts a sheepish look up at the five of them, flashing an awkward smile, before leaning closer to the phone to say more quietly: "I think you'll want to see him, sir."

"I don't pay you to think, sweetcheeks. Tell him too bad. I'm in Fiji. Indefinite vacation."

She hesitates a bit, but then points to the phone, with a shrug.

"I'm sorry," she says, "It seems he's not in."

Kat moves forward, folding her arms indignantly.]

We'll wait.

[ The secretary doesn't seem to know what to say to that, pointing helplessly at the phone. "He, er, said indefinitely."]

[nothingsodivine]

[Des casually pushes his way to the desk and leans on it, planting his elbows so he can be on eye level with Ms. Secretary.] Lady, I realize he's a busy man. And he's probably getting a ton of wannabe teen heartthrobs storming his office, but I saw the way you looked at him when he walked in. [He straightens and pulls Finnick over and clasps his hand under his chin to pinch his cheeks.] Look at this face. If this face walks outta this joint and goes to the next guy who just so happens to not be on vacation? Who's your boss gonna be pissed at? Himself, for giving you the order. Or you, for not going with your gut. [He frees Finnick.]

Choose wisely. [NAT 20 DIPLOMACY CHECK.

EAT IT.]

[65]

I have had a lot of offers. [He leans in with Des and uses his ~seductive voice~.] Are you sure we can't arrange something?

[diplomacy check 22. change your panties gurl.]

[starfucker]

[ Her jaw drops when he leans closer, and she gets caught up in staring at him ~oo mr finnick oo~ before seeming to rouse herself out of her reverie and just nod dumbly, gesturing at the door.

"He's um... right in there."]

[ Dumage gives a triumphant smirk, and starts steering Finnick that way. ]

See? That wasn't so terribly hard.

[ She shoves open the door, revealing the interior of a very spacious office, done in broad strokes of black and white, and replete with funky furniture, a full sized bar on one wall, a pool table, jukebox, gold records lining the walls, a few grammys haphazardly scattered on a shelf, and a big clear desk in the middle of the room, where a dark haired guy in a white suit lounges. He looks to be about thirty or so, and appears perfectly human.

He looks up in obvious surprise at the entrance, but less with any indication of being affronted, so much as just entirely bewildered by the fact that anyone would just be walking in unannounced. His eyes slide from one of them to the next as they keep filing in. ]

... Annnnd what the hell is the Macy Day's parade doing in my office?

[nothingsodivine]

[Des purses his lips and whistles.] So. This is what "not being in" looks like. I expected more mini golf with Solo cups. [He nudges Dumage forward in a 'your up' gesture. He'll come in if she crit fails her bluff check. HE CAN'T DO ALL THE WORK. GOD. Plus Dumage has a vagina.

Vaginas are very persuasive.]

1/several

[starfucker]

[ Burt clucks his tongue, leaning back and snapping a finger in Des' direction. ] Actually, I use solid gold ashtrays for that shit, but good guess.

[postergirl]

We could hardly expect anything less. [ Dumage takes her cue and sliiides forward, one hand on her hip. ] You'll have to forgive his complete lack of manners.

[starfucker]

Actually, I tend to shy away from forgiveness. [ He waves a hand at his neck. ] Sticks in my throat. Doctor's orders. [ And his eyes rake shamelessly up and down Dumage. ] Well, hello. Can I interest you in spending some quality time in Fiji? [ He gestures at the mini-bar across the way. ] I've even got some of those little umbrellas, we could really class the fuck out of it. You and me. Tete a tete. What do you say?

[postergirl]

As delightful as that sounds, darling, we're here on business. I can assure you we only need a few moments of your--

[starfucker]

[ Annnd with Dumage's less than impressive Diplomacy check, he cuts her right off. ] I'm gonna stop you right there before you get the fuck ahead of yourself and say "time", because I can assure you, sweetheart, that my time is way more money than you can afford. In fact, my left nutsack probably has a net worth of your whole little cadre here combined, so how 'bout this: [ He slips one hand under the receiver of the phone beside him, pulling it off the hook and hitting the speaker button. A voice immediately says: "Mr. Becksworth?" and he continues without taking so much as a beat. ]

Yeah, Clint, hey, how's it hangin'. Listen, why don't you have security get their fucking asses in gear and do their job for once in their lives. I've got some walk-ins and I think it's been made p-r-e-t-t-y fucking clear that I don't do walk-ins, so send an officer or three up, why don't you? Good? Good.

[ His finger slides off the button, but after only a moment, he clicks it again, holding it there. ] ... Make one a surprise stripper. [ Annnd he disconnects once more, before looking at the group again. ]

Alright, with their less than stellar record, I'm guessing you've got five minutes, tops.

Wow me.

[65]

[ Finnick figures now is not the time to ask if the bar actually is Fiji (HE CAN'T HELP HIS UPBRINGING, OKAY).

He sure was hoping it wouldn't come to this, though. Just because I make fun of him and call him the Sparkling Diamond in brackets doesn't mean he's Nicole Kidman ...

He'll keep acting cool tho. ] I guess that means you'll want me to sing, doesn't it?

[please say no.]

[starfucker]

[ Finnick speaking up peels Burt's attention off Dumage's curves, and he... actually does a double-take. ]



Now that is what I call some flawless fucking bone structure. [ In moments, he's on his feet, steering around the table, and gesturing towards Finnick. ] C'mere. Don't be shy. Unless that's your image, in which case, let's keep it 'shy but will be fuck you crazy in the bedroom'. [ He comes to a halt in front of him, squinting as he slowly looks at him from various angles. ] ...Move over Timberlake, we've got a live one.

Let's hear it.

[65]

[Yeah all this objectification is about par for the course for Finnick's life. Which is probably a good thing in this instance, because if nothing else he is spectacularly good at it. He comes close as per request, and lets Burt take in his beauty.

He doesn't actually ... know any songs anyone here would be familiar with. .o. Oh well it'll just seem like he ~wrote it himself~. He launches into some crappy Capitol pop song that's about as deep and meaningful as Ke$ha's discography. He gets a 14, which means he sounds about as talented as Ke$ha too. Just think of the wonders of autotune!]

[starfucker]

Whoa, whoa, whoa, don't blow your load all over my carpet, I just cleaned these. Or... someone else a lot poorer who speaks more Spanish did. Same thing. [ He holds his hand up to cut Finnick off. ]

Ever meet an autotuner, kid? Man's best fucking friend. Best thing to happen to the mainstream music industry since lip syncing.

[ He pushes Finnick aside, as if he's done with his life for the moment, turning to the others. ]

Who's the manager? [ His gaze rakes across them, and he points at each one of the women in turn. ]

... too sexy... too angry... too - if I were to use the phrase "Nubian princess" would that be offensive or charming? Fucking 21st century PC bullshit, can't keep up. I'm aiming for a compliment here. [ He turns from Martha to consider Des. ] You. Fluffy. What's your story? [ Immediately, he waves a dismissive hand. ] Scratch that, no one cares. Come on, have a seat, shut the door. You just earned yourselves an extra five minutes in Fiji. [ He turns around, heading back towards his desk. ]