poly_chromatic

Entry tags:

boardwalk empire - meyer lansky

Video

[At least, for once, this is an intentional video. He is, however, much more casually attired than usual -- which, in this case, means with no suit jacket, no tie, and sleeves rolled up to his elbows. And he appears to be leaning on a car, cigarette in hand, as ever, and an errant smudge of grease or two on his face.]

I have two questions for the City at large. Call it... research.

[One of those tiny, polite smiles, and then...]

First of all, if there were one thing you think this city is lacking -- and "a means of escape" isn't a valid answer here, I'm afraid, since we all want that -- what would it be?

[A long pause.]

Second of all, I've been informed that I'm in need of at least one "modern" outfit, whatever that means. Is anyone here willing to assist?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I imagine you'd look good in just about anything you wore, but I take your point. One of the benefits to being in the City is that you can find almost anything you're looking for, whether it's from the 19th century or the 23rd century.

In my spare time, of course, I would prefer to wear something from my own day and time, but seeing how the casino is yours - it must be left up to you, Monsieur Lansky, to decide what I should wear when there. It is your business in which I partake, after all.

Wear something from your own day and time at the casino, if you want. I wear something from my time, despite being from 'the past,' and nobody seems to mind.

And yet, you are asking for advice in dressing differently. Should I not do the same?

Believe me, I'm going to keep on wearing suits at the casino. People seem to like it, and I'm more comfortable that way

Of course there is nothing so attractive as a man in a well fitted suit, I can only agree. In which case, I will make certain to dress in a gown to match.

A gown will certainly attract attention -- and that's not a complaint.

I have only the one in which I arrived, but if you are certain there are more to be found and purchased, I shall soon acquire a whole collection again.

A whole collection? Be careful, or I'll be sure you're trying to bankrupt me.

[His tone is teasing, though.]

Bankruptcy would hardly benefit me. I am wholly against it and shall ensure that you do not bear the financial burden alone.

I get the distinct feeling that you and I will get along just fine.

[It's that almost flirtatious, but not quite, tone from him again.]

[His comment makes her laugh, a coquettish laughter meant for flirtation.]

When are we to be properly introduced, Monsieur Lansky? Surely you do not mean to keep a poor woman in suspense.

As soon as you want. I need to get myself cleaned up a little, and then I'll be heading over to the casino. You want I should meet you there?

Ah, that would be my greatest pleasure! To see where I am to be so generously employed.

It's not as nice as I want it to be eventually, but it's a work in progress, just like anything else. I'll be there in about a half an hour. Let me send you the directions.

[And in a few moments, she should be receiving said directions. Apparently he's taken well enough to the technology around here to use it for that sort of thing.]

I... see.

[Marguerite, on the other hand, has only become accustomed enough to the network devices to turn hers on and either send or receive a video feed. Thus, it takes her a good half an hour to figure out how to read the directions properly. Already delayed, she decides it to be more important to look her very best than hurry out the door in any slobbish state and consequently, it takes her the entirety of an hour to make it to the entrance of the casino.]

[The casino is obviously under expansion, but it's still a nice place -- understated, no flashy lights or bright colors. There's a bar, several poker tables, a pool table, and a piano. And there's the proprietor of the place, wiping down the bar when Marguerite shows up. As promised, he's in a suit, and he's absorbed enough in his task not to notice her at first.]

[Neither is Meyer the first thing to which she pays notice upon entering. Rather, it is the decor of the place - its entire layout, so different from how a casino looks as she knows them from Paris. Less intimate, although only in the strictest of senses, because the establishment certainly emits an air of intimacy on its own. After a moment of taking in all these first impressions, Marguerite focuses her attention on the man at the bar - her demeanour changing instinctively and fluidly, a smile finding its way onto her lips.

Walking up to him, her reddish orange ballgown - the one in which she arrived - moves around her ankles for every step that she takes, the heavy fabrics making the skirt fall in waves around her legs. Her dark hair has been elaborately styled and her make-up has been applied to perfection. She knows that she must look every bit the part of a courtesan and she takes pride in it, too. Naturally.]

Monsieur Lansky!

[He looks at her appraisingly, but not in a particularly flirtatious way; it's the gaze he'd give a new employee that had stepped into work for the first time, which she is. Of course, he recognizes that she's attractive, it would be impossible not to, and maybe there's something in his appraising glance that takes that in, too. Ever the businessman, he stops what he's doing and approaches her, smile on his face, handshake at the ready.]

Miss Gautier. Nice to finally meet you.

The pleasure is mine, certainly.

[She takes his hand, angling her own in full expectation of a kiss to the backside of it. It is how she is used to being greeted and only men, to her knowledge, shake hands so brutishly. Watching him intently, head tilted to one side, Marguerite notices specific things first - such as the way that he looks at her, not with the levels of attraction that she usually inspires in men, although she obviously doesn't leave him unaffected either. A strange balance. Intriguing, even. Secondly, she cannot help noticing that he is shorter than her, a shortcoming she shan't hold against him, since she has seen many times that short men can surely perform as well as a man of a taller stature. Armand, too, doesn't rank amongst her tallest lovers... But none of that now!]

You are aware, of course, that I am now in your debt.

[He sees the way she angles her hand, and delivers a kiss to the back of it -- he's not so impolite as to refuse her that, since she's obviously used to being given a formal greeting. It isn't how he'd choose to greet someone, man or woman, but he won't begrudge her the formality, even if it seems a bit outdated to him. He has no particular desire to look rude.]

I don't think you're exactly in my debt. You're my employee -- I'll be paying you to do your job. No indebtedness required.

[His words make her falter as she withdraws her hand from his grip, her smile freezing on her lips - only slightly, but enough for the attentive observer to be able to notice. She hadn't considered their relationship under those terms, but rather under terms with which she's much more familiar. It seems strange to her, for a woman to... provide for herself so directly. For a woman to have an employer, rather than a hoard of lovers, a rich patron. Or a sugar daddy, as Monsieur Meyer had called it. Regaining her composure quickly, however, Marguerite manages a laugh.]

I have had a man who desired to love me unconditionally and now I am faced with one who doesn't desire me at all. You must excuse my confusion.

Believe me, I find you perfectly desirable.

[Because he's noticed the way her smile faltered, and he understands her confusion, at least from a logical sense, if not an emotional one. That's why he hastens to add an addendum.]

But if you'd prefer not to think of yourself as my employee, I'm perfectly content to think of it in a different way. It's up to you.

[Quickly, with little care, she waves her hand at him, a small shake of her head accompanying the motion. Paris is far away. Along with the arrangements to which she is used. Along with Prudence and Gaston. Along with... Armand. In this City, apparently, a woman works for herself. But with the money still coming out of a man's pocket, the differences really do seem to be minuscule. It is the same which is expected of her, after all. Company. Flirtation. A moment of forgetfulness and the money that can be spent during that moment --]

If it defines our relation best, Monsieur Lansky, "employee" shall be the title I bear. And I shall bear it gladly, too.

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