Roleplaying
2004 Archive
2005 Archive
Seminars
| When: | 5 April 2005 |
| Who: | Damien, Nicodemus, Soludarius (as Franklin) |
| What: | Damien is called to Lux where he encounters the Austin businessman he has been investigating. |
Room name
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Damien drives up to the Lux, as the phone message stated, and leaves his BMW with the attendant in the front of the hotel, along with a small gratuity. He's very rarely here at the Lux, so people don't know him. He steps in, wearing his neat Italian suit with expensive silk tie and bruno magli shoes, and pulls off his round sunglasses. He surveys the floor of the bar before heading over to the table of Mr. Nathan Lyman IV, following the instructions to the letter, and proffering a hand as he reaches the table. "Mr. Lyman? Damien Hirsh."
As always, Lyman sits above the rest on the raised floor near the bay window. Always the bay window. He is slouched in his chair, one leg kicked up onto to the other's knee, with a newspaper spread in his lap. This is the focus of his blue eyes, though they often shoot up to the exit, searching for a certain face. When Damien arrives they are pleased and Lyman moves as if to rise out of his chair, meeting the hand and shaking it firmly. Still, he does not stand fully, he merely motions to the chair opposite him, "Please. Sit, Mr. Hirsh."
Damien slides easily into the chair, looking very at ease. He asks, "And for what do I owe the pleasure, Mr. Lyman?"Lyman smiles wide as his guest dispenses with pleasantries and cuts right to business. "I suppose you earned it," he says, clearly amused with the speed at which the scene unfolds. He snaps a finger at the nearest waitress, "But, first...can I get you anything? A drink?"
Damien's eyes go up to the waitress and says, "Scotch, Maker's Mark, double on the rocks for me." At the same time, he reaches into his inner suit pocket for his PDA.
"A good choice," Lyman remarks, his gaze never trailing from Damien, "I'll have the same." After the order, he does not wait from the waitress to depart before directing his words across the table again, "I understand you have been looking into my affairs here in Austin..." Almost at once, Lyman's voice looses its cordial warmth, it abruptly drains away, leaving a rather dry, methodical pace to his voice...it's contemplative and it's dangerous.
Damien does not seem to be phased nor particularly frightened. He says evenly, "Mr. Lyman, I am a partner in a political consulting firm out of New York named Strategic Partners, Inc. We are in the midst of opening a Texas branch to cope with all of our new Texan clientele, of which recently we've had quite a rush. Upon starting the branch in Austin, I performed some due diligence on the prominent local businessmen for possible interest in our services, including full briefing on current Republican talking points, consultation, political access, and a funding portfolio. I admit I made a few basic calls while your name was on my list but one of your associates -- Kacela I think her name is? -- assured me that neither you nor your business had the slightest interest and the matter has since been dropped."
"I'm aware of what you do," Lyman seems to spit back, his lips curling as if to give more of the same...perhaps even a heated reprimand. But, whatever fiery words were on the tip of the Lyman's tongue, they are put to rest and that regal smile rises again, "Well, Ms. Howard was wrong to speak for me. I am seeking such a service as my reputation here in Austin seems to have been marred by false accusations and scandal. Still..." On that note, Lyman's eyes narrow on Damien, sizing him up as his features adopt an almost predatory glow...though his smile remains, "I highly value Ms. Howard's opinion. Does she know something I don't about the inner workings of your firm?"
"We have no dealings with Ms. Howard," Damien says evenly, not a hint of fear or reproach. "Only that, when approached, she said she had no interest in me or my firm. I accepted this on face value, Mr. Lyman, and dropped the matter. And I'm afraid that our interests are only in the involvement on a State or higher level. If you were considering one of the seats opposing a weak Democrat in a recently redistricted district for the 2006 Congression Campaign, we would be happy to prepare you a packet and begin working on pricing. I am afraid we are not a general purpose media and marketing firm. I am happy to refer you to another New York firm with which we are affiliated if you require that service."Again, Lyman's face softens as he reels back in his chair to laugh aloud. When he recovers, his blue eyes are bright and still amused with something Damien said, "However weak the Democrat candidate may be, I am not your man. If your firm can somehow inflict memory loss through the media, then perhaps. But, I fear scandal may dog me to the end of my days." He then nods, having considered Damien's suggestion about the referral, "Yes. If you could." Still, he gives another measuring look, "You don't do independent work?"
Franklin enters the establishment escorting a beutiful blonde dressed in a tasteful yet slimming red dress. He consults the Host at the door and speaks his name. After the host has checked his reservations, he is escorted towards your direction of the establishment. Trailing behind the woman he awaits for her to be seated before taking his own chair.Damien Hirsh and Nicholas Lyman are seated at one of the fiercly sought after tables by the bay window.By now, their drinks, two scotch on the rocks, have arrived.Damien begins reaching into his inner suit pocket for his card case. "The Republicans have a tight message of deflect and defer with moral issues. I've found it is immensely easy to sell the idea of cutting food stamps for tax cuts when you have it wrapped in a neat bundle of anti-homosexual bigotry and theocratic rhetoric. People like theocratical rhetoric. The Democrats, unfortunately, make the mistake of sticking to the issues. They should reach into the past and pull out their seperatist candidates from the 60's." He pulls out his card case, flips it open, pulls out a card, and passes it to Nicholas Lyman. "I do some independant consultation work occasionally. My rates begin at $250 an hour per diem, working on a contractual basis only. But I am very choosy about my clientele."
Accepting the card, Lyman inclines his head in thanks. "Understandable," he then replies, smirking slightly as he, again, pulls something humorous out of what Hirsch has said, "Not wanting to risk your reputation on somebody that is beyond redemption in the media." He adds a goading question through a mild chuckle, "It isn't principle, is it?" As he waits for an answer, his gaze trails to the arriving table. A new addition to Austin's elite?
Franklin never opens the menu as he orders, "We'll have the Red Chateau Mouton Rothschild... Hrm 1982". As the waitstaff leaves he takes a moment to glance around the room as his 'date' begins some idle chat about her stock portfolio needing a facelift.Damien reaches out for his drink, contemplates it, and then drinks down about half of it before answering the question. "Mr. Lyman, I am in the business of electing men who enact my public policy to public office. I make a large amount of money in this business, but it is still a business, and I still have a partner. I am sure you understand, as a businessman yourself, the fundamental principles of turning time into money. I assure you, we perform a full assessment of each possible candidate, including a full risk analysis. If you wish, I can have my partner fax your risk analysis to your office for perusal for a perfunctory fee."
Franklin catches a glimpse of the men near the bay window. With only a casual glance he turns his attention to his lady friend and nods to her banter. Not wanting to be rude, he gives the woman an ear, a smile and a casual answer to let her know he is listening. His interests seem to lay more in the attendence of this afternoons mid-day crowd.
Turning back to his guest, Lyman cannot help but smile. "That won't be necessary," he says, raising a hand as if to sooth Damien, "I have a good idea what it says." With that said, he looks from side to side idly, "I suppose we are done here." This time, Lyman does rise to his feet, offering his hand across the table, "A pleasure, Mr. Hirsh."
Damien also rises to his feet, and takes the offered hand. "Mine as well, Mr. Lyman. I am sorry I could not be more helpful. I wish you luck with your media issues."
When the bottle of wine is brought forth, he inspects the cork and tests the wine for its ambiance before taking a swallow from the glass. He nods and says, "This will do just fine". The waiter then begins to pour both glasses before leaving the couple to their prose.
"Thank you," Lyman says brightly, before squeezing the other hand and giving it a slight tug toward him. It isn't enough force to bring Damien over the tabletop, but enough to draw him closer for a firm, rasping whisper, as Lyman's voice descends into something dark once more, "So, your preliminary work on me is done. From what you tell me, Strategic Partners has absolutely no interest in representing me. I expect to hear of no further...investigation."
Damien says quietly over the table, "Mr. Lyman, Strategic Partners has declined to persue interest in your business. We have concluded our investigation."
Franklin is to far away to hear such whispers and continues on with his conversation. He shakes his head and suggests to the woman that she should take another approach at her Investments. With a couple of quick mentionings he shrugs. "It takes much more research to truly have a feel on those investments, I suggest you take more time to consider your options..""Excellent," Lyman chimes, releasing the captive hand, "You have a good day, then. Good luck with your campaign." His business concluded, the industrialist snatches up his untouched glass of scotch, sips it, and departs from the table without so much as a look back at Mr. Hirsh.Damien decides to sit and finish his glass of scotch before leaving the Lux. It's a nice table in the bay window, after all.Franklin notes at Mr. Lyman begins to leave. Taking a sip from his glass of Rothschild, he watches the man as he begins leaving. His mind lost in thought he listens ever so gently to his female companion.On his way out, Lyman passes Franklin's table. There, he finishes his scotch and slides his glass on to an empty table, leaving it for one of the waitresses to pick up. Afterwards, he make short pause at the hostess stand, where he checks the books and then departs.
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