New Guy In Town

[timesbureaucrat]

Who OPEN
What Narvin arriving in West End
Where Hotel lobby, police station, all over
When All day/evening

Agent Narvin Lone wasn’t pleased with his transfer to West End, despite being the one who requested it. DC was where all the decisions were made, where, in his mind, all the real work was done. But after Representative Darkel’s schemes had been blown open he was lucky not to have been incriminated and indicted himself. As it was, people had suspicions. No, it was best to keep out of DC for now, even though it was inconvenient.

He grimaced at the whole situation as he hailed a cab to take him to his hotel.

Comments

Hotel

[timesbureaucrat]

The hotel he’d been recommended was a fine establishment. A wide lobby provided seats for gentlemen in good suits to sit and read the papers and a decent restaurant was attached as well. At one point there had probably been a bar, but no longer. Still, Narvin wondered if the place was selling drinks on the side—a glass of scotch subtly delivered to the room of a patron, or perhaps “juice” sold in the restaurant that was just a little too fermented.

[collector]

When it came to gentlemen in good suits reading papers, Irving was one of the most gentlemanly in some of the best suits. (The papers were about average, though.) But he never stopped paying attention to his surroundings.

And there. He knew that face. Instantly, he regretted seeing it. Ignorance would have been a few more wonderful hours until the inevitable awareness, and likely little lost in the interim. Ah, well. Nothing to be done.

Irving folded up his paper and approached Narvin. From in his line of sight, of course. He wouldn't want the accusations to be too easy. "Narvin!" Irving spoke warmly, as if greeting an old friend. "What a wonderful surprise to see you here."

In which I am a terrible person who thought I had responded to this tag.

[timesbureaucrat]

"Pity I can't say the same, Braxiatel." He face twisted sourly. "What are you doing here?"

A-OK!

[collector]

Always so short on pleasantries. Braxiatel maintained that calm air of pleasantness, half out of habit and half just to make Narvin more irritated. "I live in this city, Narvin. And you?"

[timesbureaucrat]

Narvin bristled at Braxiatel's complete insouciance. It always struck him as unfair that Braxiatel should seem so unconcerned while Narvin himself wanted to chew glass in frustration.

"As do I. For now. I would have thought that this city would have been short of high level politicking for you. Dare I hope you've left public service?"

[collector]

Irving gave one of his worst half-smiles, indicating nothing but a pleasant sort of superiority. "I'm entirely out of politics these days. It is all academia and artwork for me now. A nice retirement."

Station

[timesbureaucrat]

Once he’d dropped his luggage off at the hotel, Narvin walked to the main police station to check in with the prohibition agents who’d been working this town for a while.

He strode up to the officer at the duty station and said, “I’m looking for Agent Brown.”

[most_feared]

The officer gave him general directions, roughly gesturing towards the back. Usually Agt. Brown would have been out. Instead, he was sitting at his desk typing up something and having to take care that his fingers weren't moving so fast that two keys became entangled (this was a very irritating problem). His expression was earnest and focused on the paper, which ever line he was having to carriage return.

His ribbon was running a little thin, though, and he was in the middle of turning to get a new one from the desk drawer when he noticed Narvin.

[timesbureaucrat]

"Agent Brown," Narvin said. The idea that he might be interrupting some important work or a train of thought didn't cross his mind. It wasn't that he was intentionally rude, it was just that tact and patience didn't cross his mind.

"Agent Lone, from DC." He held out his hand. "I was told that a letter was sent ahead and that you should be expecting me."

[most_feared]

"Didn't get a letter," Brown said curtly, before holding out his hand and wiggling his fingers at Narvin. "Let me see your ID."

Simple enough and straight to business. He might have not been contacted but this oddly foreign sounding agent would probably tell him.

[timesbureaucrat]

Narvin sighed and muttered something under his breath about the idiot postal service as he reached in his jacket pocket and produced his ID.

"I've been sent to join your team. Our federal contacts have been whispering that a new boss might be moving into town. No one can give us a name--apparently he's frightening enough to keep everyone fairly tight-lipped about it--but he goes by the monicker "Alpha." Reference to the biblical passage do you think, or is he just a fan of Greek?"

[most_feared]

The look on Kay's face was fleeting, but definitely displeased before it was buried under a thick coating of "that didn't happen". He handed back the ID and started his search for the typewriter ribbon.

"I've heard about him." He said simply. He more than heard about him- Alpha was the guy that trained him. "He was here before. He left town. He'd know better than to come back."

[timesbureaucrat]

Narvin put the ID back in his pocket, watching Kay carefully. Mostly for signs of Kay finding his presence an unwelcome intrusion. If they were going to end up rivals, he'd rather know sooner than later. But Kay didn't seem distressed at someone else entering his turf. There was a flicker of...something, however. But Narvin couldn't place what it was or what it might be about.

"I can only pass on what was told to me. That at least some people are convinced that Alpha was planning to come here. The higher ups thought that the possibility was great enough it was worth adding another investigator on site to assist."

[most_feared]

He wasn't distressed at that. He was distressed at something though. "So that's all they told you?" He didn't say much more than that, but he was on the edge of a rant. Or rather, the rant was going on internally. He was careful not to let too many of his feelings about Alpha spill to the surface.

[timesbureaucrat]

"That and that Alpha is be to considered extremely dangerous. Is responsible for quite a few agents' deaths, apparently."

Out of habit he glanced over Agent Brown's desk in curiosity trying to glean clues about his person.

[most_feared]

The desk was painfully neat and uncluttered for a man in the thick of the booze wars. He was fastidious, all the paperwork was always filed to completion without fault, reports made with no omission of necessary detail and then some extra. Brown was a fastidious man.

"He did a lot more than kill some agents. He was one. He had access to the inside, left with a bunch of info and one of our men. Sandoval decided he didn't like how he was treated and opted to help him with the whole thing."

And he'd tried to get Brown in on it. It was a miracle he'd survived.

[timesbureaucrat]

The extreme neatness of the desk gave him few clues to work with, aside from the implication of the neatness itself--a man who was very organized, who liked to control his surroundings.

"I see my superior left out some rather important details." Narvin wasn't happy about that. But he wasn't surprised either. Sometimes, in his more paranoid moments, he half suspected that his superior would be perfectly happy if Narvin himself became another fallen agent.

[most_feared]

"The most important ones. He had a list of our inside operatives. We tried to switch them around, put them in new places, dismiss the ones we absolutely knew had been compromised. But it's still gonna be dangerous."

And Agt. Brown stood up and went for his coat. "Good luck with it." He said as if he was about to leave Narvin to it. He didn't want anything to do with Alpha, not if he could help it.

[timesbureaucrat]

"Wait! You aren't just... You aren't leaving me to handle this mess alone, are you?" Narvin's voice rose with a hint of panic. He knew this Alpha was dangerous, but this new information raised the stakes even further. If he tried to do this by himself, he stood a very real chance of ending up dead, and he very thoroughly didn't want that.

[most_feared]

"Yup," he said on his way through the buzzing office, straightening the collar of his coat so it was turned up. "They sent you, not me. If they didn't even tell me about it, I figure they don't want me near it."

And maybe that meant they didn't trust him to say no again- or knew he'd try to kill Alpha rather than wrangle information.

[timesbureaucrat]

"But you can't!" His voice was shrill. It wasn't the most eloquent argument he'd ever made.

But the honest reasons for why he wanted Agent Brown to stay on the case with him--that he was afraid, that he wasn't sure he could handle this on his own--he couldn't say that to a stranger he'd only just met.

[most_feared]

"Like hell I can't..." he was exiting and heading down the steps, coat tails rustling in the wind and he reached up to hold his hat on his head. But at least he stopped and turned to face him.

"I'm Agent Kevin Brown, Lone. I was the guy that found out what Alpha was the hard damn way. I still got a chunk of metal from him buried in my shoulder.

"If they wanted me on the case, they'd know they weren't gettin' Alpha back without some specialized permeation."

[timesbureaucrat]

Narvin didn't chase Agent Brown down, even though he wanted to. His dignity wouldn't allow him to beg further.

"Dammit," he muttered to himself. Perhaps he could try again later, find some other way of convincing Agent Brown to help him. If he'd faced Alpha and survived that was definitely somebody Narvin wanted on his team.

But for now he'd have to make due with what he had, which was himself, his badge, his gun...and at least a little more information than he knew before.

Anywhere

[timesbureaucrat]

Once he’d announced his arrival to his new co-workers, Narvin decided it was time to start familiarizing himself with the city.

[Anywhere at all, just choose a place.]

[una_persson]

The habitués of the Candlelight Club might not have recognised Miss Una at the lunch counter of Sam's Diner. Without the gown, the jewels, and the perfectly marcelled hair, she could have passed for a secretary in her simple cotton frock and straw hat.

She sat at the counter, picking at a plate of meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and green beans. It was, she admitted privately, better food than anything she'd grown up on, though bland and the texture of the meatloaf made her shudder. She'd gotten spoilt in New York, she thought.

[timesbureaucrat]

Narvin had been walking around the streets all morning, finding his way around. He didn't know any of the restaurants, but Sam's looked clean, quick, and not too expensive.

He walked to the counter next to where Una was sitting and examined the menu. Five minutes later he was getting into an increasingly loud argument with the man behind the counter over the price of a cup coffee.

[una_persson]

The argument made Una roll her eyes, and after a couple of minutes she couldn't help herself. "It's just a bloody cup of coffee," she said.

[timesbureaucrat]

"An overpriced cup of coffee," Narvin muttered.

The other man scowled. "Hey, buddy, if you don't like my prices, you're welcome to go someone else."

Narvin twisted his mouth in displeasure but pulled a few coins from his wallet and tossed them on the counter.

[una_persson]

Una gave him a sardonic look. The price of a cup of coffee in West End wouldn't have gotten you a cup of hot water in New York, she thought sourly. "You're new here, aren't you?"

[timesbureaucrat]

It wouldn't have got him much better at most places in DC, either, but Narvin expected West End to be cheaper than it was. That and he'd gotten used to the "special" prices his old usual lurking spot gave to prohibition agents. (Probably to encourage them to not look too closely at the cellars.)

"Yes. What of it? You're obviously not originally from around here either."

[una_persson]

"Careful; you might cut yourself, Mr Sharp," she shot back. It was the kind of thing her old aunt would have said, and which she'd tried to pare away from her vocabulary. Sometimes, though, only the old-fashioned comebacks would do.

So sorry for lateness! I am a horrible person.

[timesbureaucrat]

"Mr. Sharp?" He spoke with a high-pitched needle voice, offended by the sobriquet. "Actually, it's Agent Lone."

No worries!

[una_persson]

"You're likely to remain a Lone for a while, making friends like that." It was a terrible, terrible pun, but she'd been completely unable to resist. The pitch of his voice only made her want to nettle him more, even as her internal alarms went off at the fact that he introduced himself as an agent.

Re: No worries!

[timesbureaucrat]

He stared at her steadily, unamused and looking like he had never been amused by anything in his life.

"Very droll."

[una_persson]

Far from sobering her, that expression only amused her more. She stifled a snicker.

"I'm sorry, I'm sure that's not the first time you've gotten that," she said.

[timesbureaucrat]

"Indeed not." The was nothing British children loved more than giving other children unfortunate nicknames that then stuck with them for the rest of their life. His had been "Lonely." "Lonely Lone."

But it could have been worse. At least he wasn't nicknamed Barmy like another unfortunate child was.

[una_persson]

She did start to feel a little bad, then. "Sorry. No, honestly, I am." She offered her hand. "My name's Una. I sing down at the Candlelight Club."

[timesbureaucrat]

"Narvin Lone, federal agent." He shook her hand. "Is there a last name to go with the first, Miss Una?"

[una_persson]

Oh hell. She'd been making fun of a federal agent; dear god. Only a lifetime's practice at wearing a pleasant face in front of alarming men kept her from blanching or fleeing.

"Persson. I know, it's a funny one too." A tiny, wry smile.