capeandcowl | [ the forty-first ] / [ video ]

[Edward Nygma is in the mayor’s office, sitting in the mayor’s chair. Mitchell’s usual desk tag is conspicuously missing from the view of the camera. He broadcasts this breaking news to the Network first, and so far there has not been any media coverage coming from City Hall.

Eddie leans forward towards the camera just a touch.]

Mitchell Hundred is missing. Contact was initially attempted sixty-eight minutes ago and has been consistent ever since. He has yet to respond to any attempt of communication. I don’t need to tell you, Network, how highly unorthodox such behavior is for Mayor Hundred, and logically we are treating this as an emergency. We’ve yet to acquire substantial, palpable evidence indicating a port-out or a kidnapping, but the fact that any effort to contact him has thus failed rather suggests harrowing possibilities. We must now resort to more dramatic maneuvers.

The available details are as follows: at four-twenty this afternoon, Mitchell had suffered from a minor concussion while overseeing reconstruction in Times Square. He was briefly hospitalized and then returned to Gracie Manor shortly after his release. His last contact was made at Gracie Manor. He is now physically missing from Gracie Manor.

[Eddie inclines his head slightly, his eyes never leaving the camera view. He draws back his shoulders.]

With a heavy heart, I must now resume the responsibility of acting Mayor until our efforts to retrieve Mitchell Hundred are fulfilled.

[And then he smirks.]

Mayor Nygma, signing off.

ooc || in reference to this plot.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Katurian dropped his voice. Raised his eyebrows.]

You can still call it business.

[He held that gaze, and remembered Friday evening. He held that gaze until it dropped down to his desk, and found the sight of his hands shuffling papers.]

Fine.

I do have a place in mind.

[He didn't move, still as a statue. It was out of character for the old, fidgety Katurian. It was how he responded when he had control. Beautiful control.]

It's not so far away. Just a few blocks.

[He leaned over his desk, buzzing in his secretary.]

Hold my calls. I've an emergency to deal with.

[He looked at Katurian with deadened eyes.]

Then lead the way.

[And he does lead the way. The restaurant is so crowded that it's practically private, the way all the conversations roll over each other and dull each other out. The environment requires closeness, intimacy for words to be understood over the roar. No one at the nearby tables would hear them.

When he gets to their table, he offers a chair to Edward. The perfect gentleman.]

[The mayor understands Katurian's movement, his action. It's a declaration of dominance. His eye twitches, briefly, for a second before he assumes as smile and accepts Katurian's offer.

He orders a red wine.]

One wonders, Katurian, when you go to such lengths, one wonders what idea you have in mind to discuss.

[He takes the chair across from him. White wine.

Once the waiter leaves, Katurian leans over.]

I want you to teach me how to use a knife.

[He cocks an eyebrow, his mouth festering with amusement.]

A knife, Katurian? You seem to have no issue using more unconventional methods, why move now to the predictable?

[He doesn't anticipate an answer from his company, but rather, he simply moves on.]

And what would I get out of this? This lesson you crave?

Business. A transaction.

[The words are harder to say that he anticipated. He leans back, flicking hair out of his eyes.]

You're the mayor now, Edward. You know people are watching you-- considerably more closely than before, people are watching you, and so I am here. I am offering my services. For you.

[Edward leaned back in his chair, his fingers tented and his sharp eyes on Katurian's face. He made no reference to the waiter bringing him his wine, and took care to say nothing until that intrusive presence was out of his domain.]

You're offering your services, to my whim? What a rather aggressive tactic, Katurian. It's not like you.

[Edward took his wine, having a sip. His eyes remained on Katurian.]

For how long could I depend on your servitude? What more are you asking for?

[ the forty-first ] / [ video ]

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