glass wants the wine, fist wants to hurt;

[hardcut]

WHO: arthur pendragon & mitchell hundred
WHERE: washington dc
WHEN: friday!
WHAT: how2politics?
WARNINGS: probably nothing

He'd said making his own way to DC would be 'good for him', meaning figuring out modern transportation and directions on his own instead of playing along at being a hostage on a road trip to Chicago and back, but what ends up happening is-- well, better, in his opinion. Even if they did have to touch down a ways out of the city center in a park to avoid prompting a security reaction. Arthur takes a proper taxi the rest of the way to the capitol building and manages to fix his hair and look like a sane person who didn't make the trip up on a woman's gigantic fuckall dragon. It is somehow a less a puzzling experience than being vetted and asked for a federal ID (apparently being a Registered imPort scans just fine on that front), but at least he did indeed remember to leave all bladed items elsewhere. It occurs to Arthur as he's being directed to the senator's offices that he'd only ever given his 'first' name, and that the modern world views epithets as 'last' ones, but that Hundred will certainly have it now (if he didn't already, with his talk of network history and surveillance). Would - will - that make a difference? He has no idea. Not for the first time, he wishes he hadn't bothered to look his own name up on the internet, but knows he'd never be able to let that stone (hah) go unturned. Too many people making jokes at him. Fucking weird, he thinks, as though anything about any of this isn't.

Comments

i partied too hard forgive me for my slowness!!!

[viced]

Surprising nobody, Mitchell had taken the time to look up a Mr. Arthur Pendragon, and thankfully, he was not all that up on his mythology. Not to say that he didn't know who he was, but more that Mitchell equated him to the boy in the Sword in the Stone Disney movie -- or the one from the few forays into history in Marvel Comics. Not exactly clean points of reference, but enough that Mitchell thought it for the best if he toned down his swearing a bit.

When he heard that he'd arrived, Mitchell even stood, when the Paige showed him in, and he smiled. "Mr. Pendragon, right?" he asked, his smile wide, even still. "Nice to meet you in person," he held out a hand, before he gestured. "Feel free to have a seat."

no apologies necessary boo

[hardcut]

Mister Pendragon prompts an incredulous line between Arthur's brows, finding the unfamiliar honorific as strange as hearing his blood-father's title attached to his own self. "Just Arthur," he says, huffing out a laugh as he shakes the other man's hand with a firm, work-rough grip. "Nice to meet you, too, Senator."

He blends in more or less, but close inspection reveals tells to his ancient origins-- more comfortable in boots than sneakers, scars visible on his hands and slinking behind his ear, heavy rings stamped with strange old Welsh letters.

"Hell of a place," is observed as he takes the offered seat. "It's busy here, reminds me more of home than the quieter cities."

[viced]

"Oh yeah?" he asked, and lifted an eyebrow as he sat back down, leaned back in his chair, and offered him a shy, hesitant smile. "I can't imagine many places where this place would remind them of home, you know?" he said, the amusement clear in his voice.

"But, I guess that's kind of the subject here, is it?" he asked. "So you're interested in working in international relations? With...where? England?"

[hardcut]

Arthur just makes a mm noise. It's about the pace and population density, not the architecture or layout. Nothing in America, here in this day and age, looks like anything of pre-Christian England. But he's used to a certain feeling, and it scans a little more mutually intelligible in urban city streets.

"England," he confirms. "It feels like I'm abandoning everything I have a responsibility to if I don't at least take a crack at it, but like I said when we spoke before: I'm not interested in cocking anything up or ego projects. Unless something definitely helps, there's no point. I've done less glamorous things than sell 'used cars', I'm not mad at carrying on with it."

[viced]

"Hah, well, hopefully we can do better than that," he said, and drummed his fingers against the table, trying to think his way through the questions he should ask, and never felt that they were useful enough. Mitchell was not exactly a practiced interviewer.

"What do you know about England now? England here? How much reading on the subject have you done so far?"

my turn to be slow apparently

[hardcut]

"Enough to be unsettled by the concept of 'colonialism', but probably not enough to have my head on straight about current politics," he admits. (Seriously, so much of England's culture, for him, is grounded in being free of the fucking Romans, and that's what becomes of the country? G r e a t.) "And I imagine it'll be best to start learning about right here, first, anyway, as it's not like I'm going to up and move there. Getting thrown into the deep end at home worked, but I knew how home worked, if you follow me."

Arthur sits forward, elbows on his knees, hands splayed between them. "Say I'm the average American student fixing to turn it into a career, what do I do?" He shrugs. "Can't expect to be treated too different, I figure."

we'll trade turns!!!

[viced]

Mitch grinned, slightly, and shrugged. "You'd be right, actually. Like when learning anything, there's a learning curve, right? I think if you just up and moved there, you'd be as much a fish out of water as someone who didn't speak the language. The advantage is, you don't have to," he shifted.

"Honestly? The average student would take a couple of classes on the cultural history -- something I suppose you've got over half of already -- and then they'd do work in the field. Although... what that amounts to being depends on every one. Some like to intern in diplomat's offices, for example. Some intern with Senators. If there's a preference, a lot of us will... help facilitate if we can. Maybe by having them work directly with the embassy. It's a good way to learn the ropes, but more importantly? It helps build relationships with persons of interest."

[hardcut]

A downside to Mitch being so keen on throwing this meeting and offer his way so quick is one Arthur's not going to mention: he really had meant to have done more studying up on things first, but it's been taking him a while. He's not illiterate, but he only ever had to read anything besides a sign post once or twice a year at home. The amount of work in Camelot meant he'd been getting a little better just before being dragged into this world, but it's a fractional difference.

Sometimes texting seems like it's helping, sometimes it just gives him a migraine. Can he handle the amount of dedicated research and proper academic learning at the pace he'd need to be able to be halfway functional in one of those positions, entry level as they are? He has no idea.

Guuueeess we'll find out.

"I don't mind taking a class." Verbal shrug. "Do you think it would be better to try and start work somewhere locally? An imPort city?"

[viced]

"You could, but it would be more focused on local than international," he explained, and crossed a leg. "So that mostly depends on where you want to start. I could contact Ambassador Baelish or Merlotte personally, if you'd prefer. They're both excellent ambassadors. Baelish, however, will likely be running for another office soon, so..." he wouldn't be around as an Ambassador for long.

Then again, it also presented a learning opportunity as well.

"Or," he started, after a long pause. "You could work for me. Get the experience looking at international issues, if you'd really prefer to end up there. It's a long haul no matter which way you look at it, so cutting out the noise sometimes lets things happen faster."

[hardcut]

"As far as 'persons of interest' go, you're just about the most interesting, I'd say."

Arthur doesn't have to have a political science degree to view the ambassador elections as the equivalent of sidewalk lemonade stand sales (or sitting on a street corner running a dice game, who knows what the medieval version of that would be), particularly compared to a senator. No offense to Baelish, or the ones he hasn't met - if that were his angle he'd play it, too. He's just looking at a different trajectory.

"What's working for you look like?"

[viced]

Mitchell laughed, then. It was true, he knew he was the biggest dog in the playground, but that didn't mean he didn't want to try to bring the others up along with him. He wasn't that selfish, after all. "Well, personally, I think Ambassadors Baelish and Merlotte are a lot more interesting than I am, but..." but he got it.

With that, he pulled a sheet out of his desk.

"This is the standard benefits package. Normally, when you work for me, it's long hours, a lot of bullshit you can't do anything about but you have to pretend that you give a shit about it, and then you have to find a way to make menial progress, while also trying to orchestrate real progress on the side."

In short, it was hell.

[hardcut]

Arthur shrugs, about the interesting bit. Whether they are or aren't, personally, he's not coming at this looking for power and influence. His ambitions are about productivity and momentum-- some people have a hard time with the distinction, but it is what it is.

And hey, that's a lot of words printed in small professional print. Eugh. Arthur glances at it, doing a good impression of someone who knows what the hell he's looking at.

"Sounds about like what I've been doing at home," is not a lie. "How about I take this and mull it over for a while. I need to feel appropriately up to speed, anyhow. I don't want to be dragging my feet any more than I imagine you'd want somebody utterly clueless on your roster."

[viced]

"Of course," he paused, and nodded. "There's no rush into this sort of thing, but let me know if you're interested. I'd love to help you along with your goal, at the very least, no matter which way you go on it."

Mitchell, at least knew that the best way to help the people here was to build a foundation of strong leaders, and that Was his goal at the end of the day. Sure, he might be the Senator, but a Senator was nothing without a strong foundation of people working with him. Connections and networks were more important than votes, half the time.

"You have my number, so I'm sure you can let me know when you've made a decision."

[hardcut]

The concept of networking, at least, Arthur is very familiar with - no matter where this ends up, it certainly won't hurt anything in the long run to be friendly with Hundred, he thinks. (Voting, though. How mysterious.)

"I do, at that." Have his number. "While I'm here-- how's everything shaking out this way with the violence in imPort cities? Seems like a lot of noise in the press, but fuck if I know what's the right gauge of anything."

[viced]

"The press? It usually has a lot more local pulse than I do here in DC," he admitted.

"It's... it exists. Thankfully, as a whole, w're a much more capable population than others -- but that doesn't make it right. With the police and our own other imports who can investigate things like this...

"Well, hopefully we'll be able to put an end to it sooner, rather than later, you know?"

[hardcut]

"'Capable' is a funny word, ain't it," is reflective, a little wry. Having potential isn't the same as using it-- Arthur has to wonder, at some of the shit he's seen so far, about both the imPort population and the world at large, the obsessive focus on heroism but apparent disregard for moments in between. Things he had to take hard note of, even at home. But he nods, humming his agreement. "Hopefully sooner."