(2014-09-27) Standard Retaining Fees Apply
Standrd Retaining Fees Apply
Summary: Following the stakeout, Kurt makes an offer to Domino
Date: (2014-09-27)
Related: Directly follows: http://ageofheroesmux.wikidot.com/log:2014-09-27-special-delivery
NPCs: None
Scene Runner: NA
Social/Plot: Social
Players:
domino..nightcrawler..

Kurt rode the van for the full ride. He was waiting for two things. The passenger to get dropped off and Domino to stop somewhere she might of thought was safe, for her at least. Not simply for her to feel comfortable, more so that he didn't just bamf somewhere close to her while she was driving, thus causing a wreck. While he didn't yet know the wreck could happen but she might get lucky in that incident, he knew at least for himself that it wouldn't go well and he could bamf out, but he might not get to her. Besides, it was safer this way, it gave him time to think.

As odd as it was, he was liking the woman. Not like, hey lets make out liking, but genuine friend, she was honest, fun to be around, sarcastic even in all the right ways. He had time to reflect on her doing this run, not that he cared what was being ran or who was paying or who died in the process. Well maybe a little about who died, but it was just details, as much as she was probably doing this for that paycheck. Or so he hoped. So in that cool night air that started with him chancing on her in that alley, he trailed her by staying atop the van and riding it out, letting the wind rush through his fuzz.

Domino, and her van, are still in Gotham. In Gotham there is no shortage of places to go if one wishes to torch a vehicle. After dropping off the other merc somewhere along the way she takes the bullet-speckled vehicle well across town to an abandoned industrial yard, the outer chainlink fence heavily rusted and in serious disarray. There's no gate to push open, no lock to break through. Heck, it won't be the first torched vehicle to grace this old place. Whatever the foundry had been in a previous life is well lost to time for most people, no one particularly cares anymore.

She's had the radio on for most of the return trip. Heavy metal, aggressive stuff. She leaves it on when the van rocks to a stop and the engine's shut down, pushing the door open and leaving it as she walks around to the back. The remaining bit of cargo involves various pyrotechnic goodies such as a couple of road flares and various accelerants, which she starts picking through. One of the flares is brought up and flipped through the air, turning to catch it behind herself on its downward fall while a plastic tank of gasoline occupies her other hand.

It's a good night for a Gotham Barbecue.

Plotting his words, the van stops, the music plays on. She's doing something, is it a good time, should he wait to say 'Hi, how are ya?' Digging around, he might startle here, she is in the back, then out.

Just give it a moment, she's going to get back in, drive someplace fun, relax, go to her place, a hotel, the club, something. Breath a moment, think. Wait, she has something in her hands.

Holy Hell! She has something in her hands. BAMF!

He's nearby behind her, "Schei├če! Mein fruend, da ich bin — Wagner … Kurt … Nightcrawler!" As if he was still on the van when she was about to torch it, and him on top of it. He could of left quickly but not after a fun hot foot to his entire backside. "Ach, its me!"

"GAH!"

The yet unopened gas can hits the ground with a *DUNK* and the unlit flare slips through her fingers in back, mainly because she disrupts its fall due to jumping backward, tripping over the bumper, then falling into the back of the van. Before she's fully reclaimed all of her senses she's got her head up and a pair of sidearms out and ready, as though they had magically appeared in her hands somewhere mid-transit.

German… Glowing. Yellow. Eyes.

"Goddammit, Wagner! What - you're following me, -why are you following me!-" she ultimately demands.

Here is a woman whom lives a very private life, and enjoys having as much control over it as she can. This..right here? Not private. Very little control. Leave it to a teleporter to finally catch her off guard.

"I, ja, … it … er … I can explain … like," he is pondering for a moment, holding up his hands plams out, meaning peace. Kurt shakes his head, takes a step back, "Look, back there, the bikes, the gun fight, all that, I chanced on it. I didn't know what was happening then realized you were in the van."

He half grins, hoping that helps just little, cause yellow eyes and canines are alawys peaceful looking. "Just, I wanted to talk to you about something, back there. Not the details I mean, that's your business …" Saying he doesn't want to know the private life she has that involves running things around for crime lords or gangsters or whatever.

He's been involved since the beginning. This -entire time- he's been tagging along..and Domino didn't have one damn clue. He could have ruined the entire gig, he could have brought in the cops, he…

He's a damn good infiltrator.

And he apparently wants to be her buddy.

Having held her breath for a moment she finally drops her hands, pistols and all falling heavily across her lap with the click of metal against metal and polymer. There's a heavy sigh in there, too. But, now she's sitting up and staring back at the peculiar blue fellow. "You went through all of this trouble just to talk to me," she flatly summarizes. "You're a tenacious sonuvabitch, I'll give you that."

She reaches up to rub at her forehead with the side of a .40 caliber Sig, peering around the weapon to (try and) keep the other meta in her line of sight. "It's not gonna get any more private than this so start talking."

Relaxing as the pistols go down finally, he breaths a moment, relief. She could of shot him, he might of bamfed, but best not to see if he can bamf out of the way of a bullet just yet. Still plenty of years left in his life to want to test that theory now actually.

With a nod of his head, enthusiastic, Kurt moves some forward, "Ya, that, I get it, its what you do, but well, maybe I can make an offer. Maybe you like that risk, but maybe you can be safer and I can get something out of it, ja?" Well, no, he didn't say what it is.

Instead he goes with another follow up, his hand scracthing behind an ear as his tail flicks more to life with his relief, "Hypothetically speaking, about how much would you make in a year, ball park is good …"

Such enthusiasm. Such uncrushable, never-ending..enthusiasm. For a moment here Domino is completely still, forehead still resting against the metal as she outright stares at the guy as he runs through everything which appears to be lingering on his thoughts. That he wants to make her an -offer,- though..? Kurt Wagner. CEO of Wagner Enterprises. Maybe he's got some ugly competition or something? As far as work goes it's not unheard of, but…

Wait. Hold up. Now he's touching on annual income, which..would mean that he's probably looking at the idea of hiring her on full-time. A smirk slowly takes shape across her jet black lips, as if the whole situation is amusing to her.

"Waxes and wanes. Sometimes I'm looking at seven plus figures. Sometimes it's survival by skin of the teeth." Though fortunately she can afford to live through those periods. "Ballpark?" Shrug. "Let's shoot for a cool one mil." She can always boost that by getting lucky and finding a truck full of cash, or win the lottery or something. On a job by job basis she commands (demands) top dollar, but if he's looking for a longer term investment he's going to need to hit that magical number in order to hold her interest.

A year's a damn long time. She might get bored!

Chuckling a little, listening, and even as she gives a ballpark, he doesn't seem put out by that figure. He comes closer even, that scratchy finger moving to his chin thoughtfully. "All right, that's good, that's good. I wasn't meaning to spy on you, but I have seen your work. Let's say that. One million, a retaining fee." She liked the price, he might like that too.

"I can't stop you moonlighting, I think you're addicted to it, but one million to help me, to train me. Teach me even, how to use guns, maybe help me with my sword work." He's good, but feels he could be better, he doesn't know if she knows other weapons, but does carry blades. He paces a little, eyes on her, as much as she probably watches him all the same.

"Also, in that time, consider a direct application of those skills, not case by case basis, but large scale, global, corporate. Where governments fail from international laws that prohibit interference but companies might need such a skill set." Just to throw that out there, "A million and I pick up any incidentals - you know, medical dental, I'll make it official if you're actually legal in the system, taxes, retirement." Not that he cares either way it seems if she is or isn't, but he can do legal taxes all the same if she is paying them.

Is she hearing this right..? She can't be hearing this right. Dom's being offered a cool million to help -train- this guy. What! Not even work alongside, that's an entirely different matter. She doesn't like partners. But..a student?

"So help me, Bamfus, if this is a publicity stunt or a case of 'rich and bored syndrome' I'm going to teach you the Mozambique first," she flatly warns.

"You're not looking at an extreme vacation, here. This is real work with real consequences. You're going to be hunted, you're going to be wanted. You may come to forget what a proper night's sleep is. You'll never be able to stop moving, you'll never get another chance at taking root and having a normal life. One way trip, all or nothing, and frankly? I don't think you've got the spine for it. This isn't where nice guys wind up."

Unless he honestly just wants to be a better shot for competition work or something, but she knows this talk. It's what people do when they want into the game and don't know what the first step is.

"If the work doesn't kill you, I just might."

He listens, pausing and crouching to a more better stance for his overly agile body. Then he nods again, bounding to get on the open tailgate of the van, waiting for the burning yet to come of it.

"Ah, niedlich-chen," he says, sounding slightly Jappanese, though chen is a similar idea and completely German, "I want you to teach me how to be better at defending myself, not necessarily all that you do. I would like to learn, but I just want to master my body. I do have one stipulation," he grins, grabbing the top of the van to hang by it with his feet, even more natural for him, upside down in the open back, still looking at her, crouched on the ceiling.

"You do what you must, we consider coporate espionage on a grandeur scale with me, but when you go out and do these things, you stay in touch with me. If I know where you are, and am within 2 to 3 miles of you, I can assure you get it. Call it me being a sap, I want to gain something out of this, but the biggest thing is, I would like to keep you safe, or safer that is. You're a big girl, take care of yourself, but I think its close calls just the same." His tail touches a bullet hole on the back of the van, on its door. "Maybe I can't stand to think of you locked in any more trunks.

Domino's having trouble figuring out these odds. Maybe she just doesn't have all of the variables yet, or she still can't wrap her head around the idea as a whole. There's no shortage of things racing through her thoughts, however.

Now that he's hanging from the roof she's starting to feel a little hemmed in, too. Maybe she'll just keep her guns out for a while longer, here.

"Why the hell would you care about my safety?" she asks first, and straight to the point. "You don't know me, you don't owe me, and we're definitely not dating. What gives? I'm not a nice person, Wagner. Some countries would list your name under the 'supports terrorists' category if you're seen working around me, and if that isn't enough then maybe this will be. People that work with me tend to get themselves killed." It really is this simple.

When the tail prods at one of the aftermarket holes in the van she automatically says "And what if I happen to like it?" before she can stop herself. ..Right. "Y'know what, whatever. It's your life and your rep." (And your bill.) "You want to drop a million into my lap to sneak around some high security buildings and learn how to shoot with only three fingers?"

Here she leaves one pistol in her lap long enough to reach behind herself to the box of pyro gear, getting another flare then flicking it into the air right in front of him.

"Start by torching the evidence. If the cops find anything to follow, you've failed."

"Its all about perspective that," grins the fuzzy blue elf, giving pause as Domino tosses him the flare, sparking it, and tossing it behind him, letting the flare go where it should then bamfing. Back on the ground outside the van more, giving her more space it would seem.

"Nein, not dating, nothing owed, not trying to get a free lunch and you into the sheets," he is pretty forward about that, "Not that I'd complain mind you, you're pretty cute, sarcasm and all." He watches Domino and the fire starting.

"Perspective, one man's terrorist is another's freedom fighter. I've seen first hand what a corrupt government can do. International law is a speciality, I'm familiar with it and its bounds. I figure if I do proceed to help people like me," he doesn't assume she's metahuman at all simply because of the appearance of the eyepatch and all. "I should be prepared for any circumstance. And admit it, you're funny, you like making fun of other people sometimes, not everyone always gets that, its just fun, even if you like excitement. I do too, its a perfect fit." Then he steps back, a little more quiet, "And I don't know, you, but I just might care. You're likable in all the wrong ways Domino, what can I say, I'm a sap."

With the flare lit, casting the two in a hellish red light from the jet of flame, Domino steps clear of the van. She even holsters her weapons, finally.

"Would you stop trying to put such a damn positive spin on my lifestyle?" she quickly snaps back with a look of irritation. It doubles by letting her selectively overlook the 'pretty cute' compliment, too. "Any way you choose to look at it I'm -not- a good guy. I'm not going to lead you along by the hand..or tail..or whatever the hell if you're that delusional. Okay? You're not going to 'save' me, what you see is what you get. Sarcasm and all."

"Aaand he's still complimenting me," she mutters after dropping her forehead into an awaiting hand. "You're like a bad infection, Wagner. I'm getting the impression that it's not going to matter what I throw at you." Heh. 'Perfect' fit. Yeah, she's just gonna go ahead and not see eye to eye here.

"I was going to go with 'idiot,'" she counters when he calls himself a sap. The heat from the rapidly growing blaze behind her is ignored for the moment, she's way too busy trying to figure out how to bring all of these pieces together. It's going to require training space, a safety net, extra gear, and somehow through all of this she needs to keep the whole ordeal separate from her day to day operations. She's not going to give this guy a look straight into her work.

Finding a safehouse outside of her personal network is the first item on the list. Which..means she doesn't have anywhere she can go to right now, so long as he's hanging around. Fantastic.

The van's radio is lost to the inferno, first by sound then by melted electronics. Without looking back to the wreckage she calls out "C'mon, Furball. Got a bike parked over here. I hope you're not a nervous passenger."

Lifting brows and grinning the whole time, Kurt moves and paces with her, but giving her space. as she talks and makes sure the fire is going enough to destroy the evidence all the same.

"Nein, you see, I'm not trying to save you. I'm only trying to make sure you don't get killed along the way." Then he looks around for the bike, moving to walk with her then in that direction. "Idiot I may be, but nervous passanger I am not, I wasn't kidding about liking thrills you know." He walks, scuffles some rocks as they walk, giving a pause.

He can't keep well enough alone, that blue imp, "I'm not saying your a good guy or a bad guy, just the guy with the right skills." He stage whispers loudly, "Or girl, unless you really are a dude, but well, you look like a lady, like that song." He's chuckling, teasing, he's nearly certain she's a lady. "Let me offer an example. China steals research projects from visiting professor, it needs to be retreived, some soldiers may die - they signed the contract, they know the risk, but the research belongs in the hands of those who hold the legal patent. If I asked you to do this, you could do it, you could show me how to do it?"

"Leave Aerosmith out of this," Domino suddenly interjects. She's still listening, though. She's always listening, if if she chooses to ignore along the way. When the hypothetical scenario is brought up she stops, conveniently timed with having reached a matte grey on matte black Suzuki motorcycle, and turns back to the Bamfer. "Yeah. Sure, I guess." More importantly, though, "How is it that you can be so damn happy-doofy all the time but don't think twice about the idea of some people getting killed because they signed up for it?" Slowly shaking her head, she adds "You're damn confusing, elf. So who's stealing your patents?"

He never said they were being stolen from him, she's just guessing here. The situation had been worded quite specifically and they say there's a sliver of truth within everything. If you asked her, she just figured out what their first job is going to be.

"Doofy - I just thought it was good natured," grins Kurt at the idea, looking at the bike all the same. "I'm not happy their dying, but I can't stop them from doing what they do. Its different when its a choice, to be a solider, than say, innocent kids in a war torn Genosha. Its perspective. Life is valuable to me, and I don't plan to kill people. Just seems part of the package, if I want to sneak into Il Jong's private estate or whatever." Korea can be hypothetical too.

"I've had some of my research stolen by visitors to Russia, completely different ball park, but I am thinking, the million dollars helps me cover my net profits, but what if I could offer this to other corporations, fee for service. Legit outfits that can pay top dollar, see, you're an honest gal, niedlich-chen, I'll be upfront, there may be profitability in this as well."

The thought is accompanied by a subtle roll of Domino's eyes, muttering "I have more trouble with those guys…" to herself. Soon enough it's replaced by a reflexive -snort,- which in turn is quickly followed with a blank look. "Oh, you were being serious."

He seriously just said that she's an honest gal. Right to her face. Now -there's- a one in a million shot! But, if he wants to see her as being honest then she isn't going to try and correct him any. She can probably use this to her advantage later.

"Hey, I'm all for maximizing net gain on any gig," she assures the guy while hopping onto the awaiting bike. "You think you can use your businessman wiles in order to boost our payout then watch me not stop you. I might even see about getting you set up with non-lethal options and training, if that's the case." For him, of course. She doesn't believe in leaving obstacles alive. Living targets always have a habit of coming back after her at some point or another.

"Ya, not intended, just had a guy presenting in Crimea … you know the history, need it back is all," says Kurt, indicating not just retreive, but clear data banks too, as much as they can. Could take some time for this. He hopes right onto the bike with her.

"If gains are capitalized through this endeavor, I would certainly offer a percentage as a bonus, contract like and everything. That million is just to retain your services, teaching, the stipulation when you moonlight, keep in touch just in case you need a quick out. Call it saving my investment, even if I'm doing it cause I like you as a person." Even though she is sure she's not, and knows she's not just the same. "Come on, really, you don't see it, charming with your dry sarcasm and cute smile." Not that she's smiled much, "Just you know, if there is like some friendship that happens as a consequence, don't charge me extra to pretend to be nice, just be you."

Looking around then, he ponders, "How fast does your bike go?"

"Right," Dom flatly replies. "We can talk about pricing later." Preferrably over drinks. Very strong drinks.

"Saving your investment, sure. Not the worst excuse I've heard." Here she hesitates again, sitting fully upright and turning back to peer at those glowy eyes yet again. "I tend not to get a lot of compliments while on the job." Nothing sincere, anyway. "I don't need to stare at myself in a mirror to boost my self image, either. I'm here for this," she states while motioning back to the happily burning van. "Anything else is secondary."

Mission first.

When the bike question is asked she turns back with another light shrug, cryptically answering "Fast enough." When the engine turns over she's quick to open the throttle, the rear wheel biting into the cracked pavement then launching the bike forward. It's no wheelie but she's not being a slouch with the power, either.

The blue guy hangs from ceilings, she's sure he can stay put on the back of a bike.

About to respond regarding compliments on the job, Domino shrugs and answers fast enough before tearing out of he lot they were in, down the loose pavement and onward. He can hold on just fine with his meta enhancements, no worries. Feet on the bike, not the really hot bits, and his hands to her sides, as a passanger not as a poor pick up to touch her inappropriately.

He waits to get a hang of it, before standing a little to lean over - so he can talk closer to her ear with the wind rushing without being all over her back and invading more personal space. "Ya, fast enough," he says into the wind, more loud to make sure it gets to her ear all the same. "I have worse, trust me." As if that is it, enjoy the ride, let her get away from the scene, but then, its not. "And let me rephrase that honesty bit, you're frank with me, to my face. That's what wins you the kudos Domino. What sucks, is when the people you trust to tell you an honst idea sucks instead kisses your ass and tells you its brilliant. That leads to failure, I don't think you like to fail."

"Easy on the moving around back there, you throw my balance off and we're both going to learn how to fly!"

It isn't often that being an ass wins someone kudos. Dom's not going to argue this one, either. "Then let me continue the trend by saying I think you're flipping insane," she calls back. "But you're right, I'll call bullshit when I see it. Right now I need to figure out where to go. Didn't plan on coming out of this with a protege, and I'm not taking you to any of my usual digs." More honesty for ya, there. "Plan on a late night if you're hanging with me tonight, I've gotta get out of the city for a couple of days."

"Can you put the bike somewhere safe, I have a place, in Manhattan," he offers, "I can take the bike, but you'll be more woozy in getting there. I have spare rooms and beds. Just, I have to port you in, mutual protection, I get how some of this stuff works." He's not afraid for her to know where his place is, but if she needs to be low key, porting her in means no one saw her come or go if she takes up the offer.

Porting in, bike and all..? Dom already feels nauseous when she's getting teleported around -without- including a bike into the mix, but if he knows where they can spend the night and she doesn't have to worry about driving across state lines to get to it… Worth the discomfort? Meh. She brings the bike to a stop but doesn't bother moving off to the side, the roads are empty enough for it to not matter.

"Guess it's never too late for me to be a little insane, either. You can get us somewhere safe? Alright, let's see what you've got."

Depending on the actual distance from Gotham to NYC will set the pace, and resting depending on number of ports. But he'll take her and bike slowly to a set of rooms in some building not on the main floor. Taking the bike right into what looks like a gallery room, lights on. If she looks around all the shades are pulled close. "Home sweet home, you can pick any bedroom down here you like. This is the stipulation, you're welcome here any time, but only if I port you in. If you need the port, I'll get you back here as soon as I can. Consider this a Safehouse."

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