I know you’ll take care of all my needs

[idesof]

WHO: A bunch of jerks
WHERE: Hotel Castile
WHEN: Friday evening
WHAT: A gathering of jerks...needs a plural form.
WARNINGS: Uh pretty much everything in their respective canons, will update if anything gets off the rails. Murder is definitely getting a shout out or forty though.



The Castile's atmosphere is somewhat different tonight. There isn't a single sign of a celebration to be seen past the fact that the little restaurant off to the side on the first floor has a RESERVED note hanging next to it. No staff runs around wildly, trying to prepare for the big evening. Actually, from the looks of it, there are less staff on board than usual. Arriving guests will be treated with considerable respect from the person at the front desk, who will go so far as to walk them to their destination despite it not being all that far off. One doesn't have to be too observant to pick up on a bit of awe in that respect, too. Or fear. Depends on the perspective.

Their room for this evening is lit lowly, lights dimmed and the bar lined with candles, at the counter top and in the selections behind it. More of a muted celebration this time around, as though a party sending off someone finally retiring instead of a full blown joyous bash. This space has been cleared except for a long, thin table in the middle. It holds an absinthe fountain, trays of finger foods, trays of small sweet treats, and one area has an array for anyone inclined to make themselves a salad, vegetables only or with thinly sliced chicken sitting on a heated plate. Hungrier than that? Express it to the staff. Or complain loudly enough they can hear it. Meals of any make will be offered. A favored bellboy is helping out as staff this evening, server and waiter instead of bellboy. But he's in his bellboy uniform just the same and a little idle chit chat proves he's got a foul mouth and cutting sarcasm he doesn't care to hide. He's a smarmy little shit for someone in his position and doesn't seem to have a single fear his mouthy nature will get him written up or canned. Anyone who dares fire back (as they should) will find that returned, and the easiest way to enjoy a companionable conversation is by standing up for oneself or spitting right back; then he's a fine chatty fellow indeed. Still drops obscene words quite often, but nobody's perfect. His name tag holds no name. If asked, he will give one. And the next person to ask will get a different name. Nelson to one, Martin to the next, Cornelius when he's drinking, Mister Jackson if you're nasty.

A small jazzy band plays covers from all eras in one corner (like so), loud enough without being overwhelming. All members are middle aged, most with additional wrinkles. They have that look of a rough sort of life. The music never falters, voices never drop out, but anyone paying them a lot of attention may spot at least the drummer throwing back liquor while they're on stage. Or sniffing something from his sleeve. Play time and work time are not mutually exclusive.

In a booth across from this band sits a lone clown in full costume. His make up was of the frowning variety but has since been smeared. It creates a very warped sort of sadness, perhaps more so since he's been given a bottle of bourbon. He has no tumbler or shot glass. He drinks right out of the bottle itself, the rim a mix of blue and white and red face paint. His focus is only ever on the band, the bottle, Sally, or his hands on the table in front of him. If approached, he will not speak. He smiles and stares but answers no one he doesn't recognize. He'll go so far as to watch the band and completely ignore newcomers if that's what it takes. The bellboy occasionally drops by with napkins or some small plate of food, gripping the clown's shoulder or patting his back as though he understands this behavior and feeling completely. A show of solidarity.

Sally is behind the bar, of course, in her finest vintage '90s wear. Tristan isn't far off either, wearing a shirt so low cut it would be obscene on a woman and dark pants that might as well have been sprayed on. March isn't anywhere in this room. Ask those who seem to be in the know, and answers will vary, but no one can explain where he is and why he isn't here. Why it's time for his little celebration and he hasn't made an appearance yet. But why worry after him? There's food, and drink, vices, and plenty of other folks to talk to. Music, even. There's something more interesting than that old bastard to be found. Tick tock. There isn't a clock in the room but watches aren't difficult to come by.

When the last late guest arrives, it's quickly after that March strides in, all impeccable shiny tailcoat, top hat, and cane. He stops to lift the thin golden chain from one side of the doorway in order to clip it at the other. It's won't keep anyone out (or in) who is very intent on getting out (or in). It's for show and part of the theatrics just the same. Only after he's done that does he pass off his cane to the bellboy, bearing the largest, most pleased grin he possibly can. The band tapers off their song and he places his top hat, upside down, on the edge of the table. He unbuttons his coat so when he puts his hands on his hips, it pulls back rather than bunching up and strangling him.

"I am" one hand goes over his heart "filled with joy to see you all here tonight. I'd like to welcome you all, each of you, to the Hotel Castile! It is my hope that after tonight, we'll continue to gather, and our gatherings will become much more than they are this evening."

He's absolutely genuine, endeared to the point his eyes give off a misty, so-happy-he-could-cry appearance.

"You've all met Sally, I know." He gestures to Sally, smile fond. That hand turns to point out Tristan. "This is Tristan. We've all come here from the same Los Angeles. We were all together at my last hotel, the Hotel Cortez. We have our differences of views, opinions, likes and dislikes, but there is one thing the three of us have in common. The most important thing any group of people can share, in my opinion. When made known and properly nurtured, this one thing can bind us together. Far beyond shared hobbies or interests! This one common denominator is something I have seen in each and every one of you as well. That is why this evening came to pass. That is why I have called you all here tonight, so you could see for yourselves. So you could come to the answer I have."

Abruptly, the clown in the booth speaks, waving his bottle. His words are too slurred, too guttural, too warped to be understand. It's not even clear if he's speaking English, but he's captured March's attention. When he finishes whatever it is he's saying, March points to him, laughs briefly, and nods.

"Absolutely, darling! You're not playing this evening; you already know the answer!" Oh, those clowns. That ends the interruption, and March turns his focus back to his imPort visitors. "I'm no fool; I am aware many of you have been here far longer than I. You've had opportunities to meet before. To know each other. Opportunities I have not yet had, though would like to remedy in the future. Some of you mightn't get along! I understand that as well. So I shall be clear that this evening: these meetings are to be civil. If you cannot remain civil, then tolerate. Keep anything past heated debates for outside that door. Within these walls," his arms encompass ceiling, walls, floor, "we strive for an acceptance of each other. That was one of my many reasons for moving so quickly to have the Castile properly renovated and in my name."

The bellboy appears at his side with a glass container, something commonly seen holding mints. This one holds small scraps of paper. March takes it with a muttered thank you, my dear, moving to place it in front of the absinthe fountain.

"Tonight, I'd like for us all to get to know each other. For those of you who already do know one another, splendid! The challenge is to find another and learn about them. Let them learn about you." He pulls off the top of that container and sets it neatly to the side. "Should you have difficulty making conversation, the staff has put together a collection of questions you may pull from."

Said questions are a wild variety. From simple moral choices like You find a box of abandoned newborn puppies in need of food, what do you do? to the braver like You're a combat doctor. You realize the man bleeding on your table is the man who took the life of someone you held dear years before. Do you treat him to the best of your abilities or work to see him dead in a way that looks accidental? Or leave him to die? to the questionable such as If there were two guys on the moon and one killed the other with a rock would that be fucked up or what? It's possible March didn't check all of these out. Or some were sneaked in. What a trusting fellow.

"Once you come to a decision of what this common factor we all share is, I'd like for you to write it down on a slip of paper and deposit them here." He's walked as he speaks, and now taps at the brim of his top hat on the table. "And that's it! I hope this evening is one of learning and understanding, and one that will lead us all to a much brighter future."

Still so genuine, so joyous about everything despite the slight unsettling factors in the room. Bouncing on the balls of his feet, even, smile somehow growing even bigger when the band kicks in a song he recognizes from his youth.

So go wild, friends. Be honest. Be amused. Be liars. Be deceitful. Be yourselves, that's really all he asks. Of course March will be playing this evening, too. He's so eager to learn about everyone in this room it's practically palpable. But where oh where to start?

Comments

[flowerette]

Ah, Dooku. Raina hadn't gotten to express how much his loss had pissed her off. But considering that the actual Maurtia Falls ambassador was in attendance and March did say they had to try and get along, she bit her tongue for now, opting to answer his question.

"Blackmail, quite obviously." Raina said with a charming grin. There was nothing she enjoyed more than having leverage over someone.

"It seems as though James picked quite an interesting group of people to gather today." Like-minded people. The ambience left a little to be desired. (What was up with that clown?) But March himself was charismatic enough to make up the difference. "It's a shame, though, that the Countess has left this world. Had you met her? She was truly radiant."

A sip of her drink in the Countess's honor.

[dun_moch]

"The most sensible option, of course," Dooku said, raising his glass to her judgement. "The so-called 'legitimate' avenues can be so terribly ineffective. And far less rewarding." After all, if the police and reporters were doing their jobs in the first place, corruption would not have taken root. Better to make use of the realities of the system than behave with foolish idealism.

Dooku casts an approving eye over the crowd, although his nose wrinkles somewhat when his gazes passes over the clown (seriously, what is he doing here?). "I regret to say I never had the pleasure," he says sadly. "It would have been pleasant to encounter someone with such a similar title to my own. I am sure she was a remarkable individual."

[flowerette]

"She was a kindred spirit. One who shared many of my same views." Raina had only talked to her twice -- once on the network and once in person. But it was more than enough to make an impression. "Sometimes this world can take people from us before their time. And sometimes it will keep those who are unworthy of this world here for a long while."

Raina would trade Daisy in a heartbeat to have The Countess return. But she glanced down at the still folded slip of paper in her hands, rolling it open and scanning over the question.

"You're standing at the edge of a cliff with your enemy. Your enemy slips and falls, but manages to catch the edge just barely. There are people watching from afar, but will not be able to make it in time and are yelling for you to save this person while their grasp is slipping by the second. Do you save them for the sake of keeping appearances or let them fall for the sake of your personal vendetta?"

[dun_moch]

"How very true," Dooku observes agreeably before turning his attention to Raina's question. At least it's an intriguing one rather than some trite nonsense designed to spark small talk- March has ensured that this is a party with teeth.

"I would help my foe up, of course. And then ensure that they receive all needed medical attention after their shocking brush with death." Dooku half-smiles. "An enemy can be disposed of in an instant, but a reputation requires time and effort to craft. It would be foolish to cast aside the long-term benefit of public perception for the short-term satisfaction of vengeance."

He waves a hand. "And who is to say my enemy might not have a second accident later on, this time without any witnesses present? Suspicion would surely pass over the man who saved their life previously."

A moment of well-displayed mercy can be an investment, not a weakness. Dooku knows that Raina understands these things. Like him, she recognizes the value of patience- of long smiles and slow knives.

[flowerette]

Raina grinned, clearly in approval of Dooku's answer. And clearly imagining his foe meeting such an untimely end after the clever set up. "I mean, I imagine you could easily play it off as though your hand slipped. But your answer certainly works better in the long term. It protects your reputation and also sees an end to your foe in a better circumstance."

She would likely play it the same way if she could. Although it probably wouldn't be her hands that caused the second accident.

"I don't imagine a lot of the people who dare to cross you will often live long enough to tell the tale." And there was not a lick of judgement in her voice. If anything, that was what made a real man of power to Raina. The unwillingness to allow obstacles to stand in the way (or continue breathing).

[dun_moch]

Dooku bows his head in gratitude for her praise. The efficient elimination of obstacles is certainly a talent of his, although some (Skywalker and Kenobi) have been irritatingly persistent. "It is unfortunate we find ourselves in a situation where such tactics are limited," he remarks sadly. "As long as our enemies have nanites in our bodies, they can return to trouble us again and again."

How does a Sith solve problems without resorting to murder? The power of the Dark Side is vast, yet it generally rests upon the assumption that if you hit a problem with enough lightning, it will go away. But that is beside the point, and Dooku moves on from the topic smoothly.

"A gathering like this puts me in mind of an idea I have been contemplating," he suggests, lowering his voice. "The government's pawns have RISE to protect them. Perhaps imPorts of our inclinations should have our own organization to support us."

Lucifer had hinted at something similar in one of their previous conversations, and the utter failure of the democratic process to elect him had hardened Dooku's resolve: there were limits to how far he could rise while working within this planet's absurd system, and Count Dooku does not like being limited.

[flowerette]

Something for imPorts like them. Raina's eyes lit up at the prospect. It would be good to have a group that could cater to their needs -- something that could protect them. Rather than simply relying on a government that couldn't be trusted while hiding their work in the shadows. "I agree. There is a certain safety in numbers. And sometimes unorthodox methods have to be used to best protect the ones we love."

A fact that didn't matter for Dooku. He likely loved no one but himself, especially in this world. But Raina had one weakness. And her gaze drifted toward that weakness as Chilton engaged in conversation with March. She would do just about anything to keep him safe. After a few seconds, Raina pulled her attention away to look back up at Dooku.

"But when forming a group like that with people like us, it's...difficult to ensure loyalty." They were a self-centered lot, those morally gray individuals.

[dun_moch]

Dooku's eyes discreetly followed Raina's over to where Doctor Chilton was chatting. Ah. He had already known about their partnership, but only now did he really appreciate that the connection between the two was genuine, not just a construct of sex and power. The Count did indeed love nothing beyond himself, and considered himself a stronger being for it. He was almost disappointed to see such weak sentiment in Raina, who was one of the most worthy imPorts he had encountered here. Oh, well. At least now he knew where one of her main levers was, if he ever needed to move her.

"Treachery would indeed be our greatest danger," he agreed readily, folding his arms beneath his cape. "We would have to carefully control information within the organization, and make secrecy our great defence against our enemies. Only a select few leaders could know the full extent of our plans and our assets. And of course, discipline would have to be swift and effective to reduce the temptation of betrayal."

Dooku had a few ideas about how best to 'discipline' a gaggle of criminally-minded imPorts. The Sith tended to have extensive thoughts on such topics.

[flowerette]

It may have been a weakness, and Raina did want to play it off like that. But her real reason for constantly namedropping hers and Chilton's involvement was more of a threat than anything else. If someone messed with him, then they would have to face off against her. And people in this group Dooku was brainstorming may very well mess with Chilton. She could only promise loyalty so long as Chilton's safety was secured.

"There are people in this world. People who are meant to be leaders, who can be trusted as such. And then there are those meant to follow who think they should be leaders. Of course, there are also people who do things so long as it suits their interests. I am of the latter group and wouldn't mind following a strong leader." Raina cast a flirtatious glance at him, as though to imply he was the strong leader she would follow. Leaning back against the edge of a table, she drew in a thoughtful sip of her drink. "So the real glue would be to find a cause that would suit the needs of people like us. Something people want more than power and rank within the organization itself. Persuasion is my forte. I've recruited men willingly to their very death before, so if you need someone to sell the pitch..."

She made an expression as though to say: I'm your girl.

[dun_moch]

Dooku thought for a moment, studying the contours of Raina's face. Then he took up a position next to her against the table- not leaning, Count Dooku of Serenno did not lean- but standing by her side. His own implication was clear- side by side. It was most kind of her to yield leadership to him, but Dooku knew that people like Raina were not well suited toward submission.

"I have every respect and confidence in your persuasive abilities, my dear," he said, and meant it. Having Raina on his side would be a boon for recruiting those who were less susceptible to Dooku's own tactics. Cold reason, grand promises, and appeals to negative emotion could only go so far with some people. The election had proven as much. "As for a cause... I think that there are certain things that can unite people like us, despite our potential conflicts." 'Conflicts' being a euphemism for the violent instability, ravenous ambition, and cold-blooded ruthlessness that characterized Dooku's envisioned membership.

"I think few of us relish the idea of being controlled by the ignorant native rabble of this world." It felt good to come out and say the word 'rabble' for once, after always having to hide behind polite fictions like 'gracious hosts.' This party really was an opportunity, in more ways than one. "Or of being at the mercy of whatever creature lives within the Porter... or of having power like the Porter's permanently out of our reach, for that matter. If we can convince others that a better way is possible, they will join us. The delicate part will be communicating our vision without giving too much away- sharing too much at an early stage would be truly perilous."

[flowerette]

Well, the flattery was certainly appreciated. But Raina appeared less charmed by it and more confident. At least he could see her talents for what they were.

"It would be. It will take a lot of subtle movement to gain us that independence. The trickiest part is to both advocate independence and not alarm the government. Not until we're ready to make our full move. I have no doubt we would be able to overpower them. But I also have no doubt, they have tons of power dampeners at their disposal and would declaw us, so to speak. We need something that can cancel out the nanites and their interference."

Raina frowned. If only they could have gotten LACKEY into their own hands and run multiple experiments that way.

"It's something to think on, at least. Do you have people in mind? Ones you think would be able to lay the foundation?"

[dun_moch]

Dooku had been thinking about the need for defences against nanites and nullifiers alike ever since the ordeal with the Soviets. One of the (many) reasons he had invested so heavily in Raina's alliance was that she also thought in these terms- and had the technical brilliance to achieve something in the field.

But their cause could not advance through her science or his politics alone, and Dooku stroked his beard as he put forward the final two names for their prospective council. "We will need funding, properly concealed. Jesse Pinkman has no lack of money and the means to launder it... And he feels as we do regarding the government. And..." He pauses because this is the most problematic candidate, in his opinion. "Lucifer. His power is matched only by his ambition, and he has influence in the media as well. I do not trust him, but I do believe that we need him."

He watched Raina casually yet carefully to see how she would react to the two names.

[flowerette]

Raina gave Dooku a look, not even bothering to mask her disdain at the idea. Jesse Pinkman and Lucifer? Why not make it a team of everyone she hated? Call up Will and April. Get Daisy in on it, too. "I've already expressed my reasons why I don't trust Pinkman. But if money is his only contribution, I would be willing to put that aside. As long as he does not interfere in what I am doing. The less he knows, the better. The same with Lucifer."

A pause. Since this was an event of honesty, Raina was going to lay this flat out on the table. There was no sense brushing it aside. Raina had already shown him her card, but she wanted it clear what she would choose if she ever had to make a choice between the organization or Chilton. "My loyalties remain with Frederick first. Both of the men you named have had their own problems with and have threatened his life in the past. If either of them so much as harm a hair on Frederick's head, my devotion will be solely toward revenge and I will cease to cooperate with the pair. I trust you will make it known that it will not be in their best interest to go after him."

[dun_moch]

Dooku carefully concealed the urge to sigh. There were times when he thought Raina had ice water in her veins and a perceptive, high-functioning computer behind her eyes, but there was also something in her that resembled the lovelorn protagonist of a Alderaanian young romance novel. They were discussing matters of cosmic power and she was focused on something as insipid as love... really, now.

Oh well, it couldn't be helped. Dooku nodded gravely as though taking her commitment to Chilton with the greatest of seriousness and sincerity. "You have my word that I will ensure they are under no illusions on that topic," he vowed. "However, I must warn you that such heartfelt devotion might only make the Doctor a more attractive target to your enemies. Not all will be wise enough to properly fear your vengeance." Dooku himself had no illusions regarding how effective a vengeful Raina might be, which meant that he was fully motivated to keep such unpleasantness from arising.

He paused, then shifted angles. "On that note, there is something I must ask you. I assume there are no secrets between you and your beloved, and that he will soon know of our plans if he does not already. Do you think he will be... supportive of the risks we are taking?" Because even someone as arrogant as Dooku could appreciate that this proposed organization and its plot to control the Porter was not embarking on a safe path. And Chilton had struck him as nothing if not practically-minded.

[flowerette]

"Then won't they be surprised when I carve them to pieces with the new set of powers this world gave me." She said with a charming little smile. Raina could be murderous in matters of love. But the charming smile turned to one full of amusement, and she actually laughed after Dooku's comments about Chilton. "Please. I might love him, but I don't tell him everything I do. Especially where business is concerned."

Which was the truth. Especially after she found out what she had about Walter White and how Chilton had frozen her out of the entire thing until after the book was written. "But if there did come a time for him to know about the organization, I have no doubt he would be supportive and offer his aid where he could. Especially for my sake. But it's probably best that he does not know. The less people who do, the better. At least until we are well established."

[dun_moch]

Dooku smiled back even as he uncoiled slightly inside, relaxing. Chilton didn't know yet. That was good news, both because the Count was not certain how dependable the Doctor was, and because the longer Raina kept something this grandiose from him, the greater the chances of it becoming an issue in their relationship when it was revealed. Count Dooku had better things to do with his time than engaging in adolescent schemes to break up a romance for his own benefit, but if events transpired as to disillusion Raina regarding the Power of Love and tilt her priorities more toward the Power of Supervillainy, he wouldn't complain.

"You're quite right, of course," he said smoothly. "Better to present him with a finished product than a half-formed idea. Just think of how impressed he'll be when he sees the power of what we have created."

[flowerette]

"He does love grand displays of power. He's drawn toward it like a moth to flame. Fortunately, I'm there to guard him from getting burned." Little did she know what he would face back home. A place where she wasn't there to protect him. But Dooku didn't have to wait very long for there to be trouble in paradise. Raina was only moments away from having an argument with Chilton.

"I suppose I should get back to his side." Her hand gently touched his elbow -- respectful, but also giving off the impression of a deep camaraderie for those who may be looking on. People Raina showed interest in were often people who others took interest in as well, so she thought she was doing him a little favor here. "Speak to the other parties and let me know what's going on."