savetheearth | ᴏɴᴇ. [ video; later afternoon ]

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ᴏɴᴇ. [ video; later afternoon ]

[ Despite his reputation as a prominent figure, Casval Mass still held a certain aversion to showing his face in public when he deemed it unnecessary. The fact that he's doing so to what he's deduced to be a bunch of strangers, seemingly picked at random by some outside force, makes him all the warier.

But what Casval likes even less than an overabundance of frivolous contact is a serious lack of answers. And answers were nowhere to be found, in this situation. Those strange lights, those strange numbers connecting him to faces and places he didn't recognize, but above all else, that haunting name, Char Aznable, which plagued his dreams and stole away what little sleep he managed to grasp at night.

So even though anxiety prickles through his consciousness, he figures a straightforward effort on his part may be the only way to find those answers he's seeking—and with a click of a button and a flurry of digits he couldn't discard from his memory even if he tried, Casval makes his first appearance on the network. ]

Greetings. This is Captain Casval Mass, though I'm sure that name means nothing to any of you. In fact, from what I've gathered so far, none of our names mean anything to each other.

[ Leaning back in his office chair, Casval folds his hands, staring sternly at his monitor and speaking with a swift, sure tone, lightly accented, the mark of a tested politician. ]

While some of you appear to have written this off as some kind of joke or hoax, I would advise you that such a possibility is highly unlikely. I am no believer in gods or the mystical forces surrounding them, but for now, we have to accept that what's going on is beyond our present capabilities to understand.

And I would like to understand.

Therefore, I would request—merely for the purposes of resolving this matter, mind you, I've no true personal interest in how you may spend your time—that you all tell me a little bit about yourselves. More specifically, any recent happenings in your lives that have stricken you as odd, or out of place, something that you saw, heard, or felt, anything that can might be interconnected. Because we are all accessing this same "network", we must all then share something in common, even if it isn't immediately coming to mind. I, of course, will disclose whatever you wish to know, within reason.

As a final note, I am currently stationed at Fort Turner, on a joint military venture with your country. I don't expect to be staying very long, so if you would prefer to discuss matters in private, feel free to stop on by; just ask for Captain Mass at the gate and they'll wave you on through. [ His face twitches, briefly, as if to say any juvenile jokes regarding my name will result in painful strangling, courtesy of myself. ] We could always use an extra hand or two around the base, if you've skill with a wrench or some related field.

[ Casval bows his head to his audience and offers up a polite smile. ]

I look forward to working with all of you to arrive at a logical, and mutually beneficial, resolution.

[ And click! goes the feed. ]

(( Respond however you like here! Casval will be sitting at his computer ~~drinking tea like a boss~~ or I left it open to anyone interested in some action for swinging on by the base. Public areas only, obviously, since they're not going to let just anyone go wandering around, but other than that have at it. Casval is NOT wearing any mask whatsoever, so you can disregard that in my icons ~~for now.~~ ))

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

No, a threat would be "hey I have pictures of you looking down the shirt of a pretty young thing after midnight."

[Coffee shop managers with grudges keep iPhones you know.]

Context is everything and tabloids sure do love captions.

Edited 2013-04-03 15:21 (UTC)

[ ...what? ]

I beg your pardon?

[Pulling his phone out from his shirt, he displays a slideshow of pictures from the coffee shop last night. Big Dick doesn't know the girl, just sees her opening her blouse for Casval before following him out. Of course, he's conveniently neglected to show pictures of the girl buttoning her blouse back up.]

Your dirty little secret looks promising. Nice mouth.

[ To his credit, Casval doesn't flinch.

He does, however, drop his smooth persona in favor of a far crueler one. ]

You know as well as I do I'll just bury the story before it ever hits print. And even if it manages to make it there, who cares?

[ He lets the matter drop, but his cocky sneer of a grin reads you think she was the first? Come on, Richard. Don't bullshit him with amateur hour. He expected more from you. ]

You're going to have to offer me better incentive than that to back your slimy little operation, Dick. I never said I wasn't interested.

[ Leaning back, he throws the figurative ball back in the other man's court. ]

I just said it wouldn't be easy.

[There's an undignified snort followed by a laugh. Oh, you're a fun one. He'll definitely have to dig up more dirt on you. The best way to move a man is to know what they want. It's easier to get a knife under a man's skin if he's to busy thinking with what's between his legs. Or worse: what's in his chest.]

Hardball, eh? It's such a sad thing; the tragedy of your mother's passing. Bet you'd love to have that put to rest.

[To his credit, Big Dick does his research. He doesn't go in with just one bullet in the chamber. One miss isn't going to keep him from firing at the target again.]

Edited 2013-04-03 15:46 (UTC)

I did. Years ago.

[ Personally, that is. He'd never managed to ferret out the party or parties responsible for it, though plenty of blood and tears and sacrifices he preferred not to dwell upon had been shed in the process. Richard gains the brief advantage of surprise but loses it just as quickly; occasional sentimental moments aside, he is not an easy horse to break with emotional blackmail alone. Which isn't to say it couldn't be done.

It just wouldn't be easy.

Let's see how many bullets you've got left, Big Dick. ]

Sweeten the deal, or you're not getting a lick of any favors from me.

[ He winks. ]

Or a lick of my scotch, for that matter.

[Still no cigar? Looks like the princess wants everything he's got to offer.]

You drive a hard bargain. Very well then. This base associates with Antebellum Industries, yes? Many of my finest patrons work for Antebellum Industries.

[They tend to get chatty after a good lay. And, of course, the girls in Big Dick's employ tell him everything to earn his favor.]

A lot of closets. A lot of skeletons.

[That's three wishes. He doesn't fancy being more generous than a genie.]

[ Oh, but you are the true master of fun here, sir. Casval hums aloud after hearing him out, leans on his arms, rubs an imaginary bit of dust between thumb and forefinger as he considers this latest attempt of dragging him down into the doldrums of scandal. Richard was determined, he'd give him that. And determination was something he could admire, even in his enemies. Especially in his enemies.

Maybe he could still work this to his favor. It was worth a shot... so to speak. ]

Dicier, admittedly. I'd rather not sink my own investments within the company by cutting ties, as skeletons aside, it's proven a reliable performer, even in times of financial crisis. I'd be a taking a hit, if a manageable one.

[ Casval glances back up, fingers pausing. ]

But this fort could burn to the ground, for all I care. Politically. Literally. I have no more affection for it than I would a rat... and rats with large egos I like even less.

[ Not that he's naming any names, of course. Oho. Now, let's talk numbers. ]

I want a cut. Thirty percent.

Unless you intend to service patrons by sticking your pretty golden head between their legs, you'll settle for five.

[So he wants to dance, huh? Let's dance.]

You're prettier than most of my girls anyway.

[Big Dick doesn't like being slighted. He's already put more on the table than he originally intended.]

[ Even better than that, sugar. He's British. And not fond of where you're leading this conversation, but if it gets him what he's after, you can make all the snotty little comments you'd like. The wry smile remains. ]

Twenty.

[ Eh, he's fine with a lower number. He's just delighting himself in dicking the Dick around, at this point. ]

Don't underestimate the sway of a decorated captain amongst his fellow kind, Mr. Baelish. They're all about as yippy as that boy when I'm in the room.

Ten. I'll make it fifteen if you promise to pay a visit or two. Everything will be on the house for you, of course. A shareholder is owed privileges.

[Sure, wave your influence around like a bitch in heat. As long as you can send the hounds running, he doesn't really care all that much. He's just intent on getting his base of operations established. Once that's done, all the city's secrets will be at his disposal. Including yours, Goldifucks.]

[ His brow lifts at fifteen... with conclusive interest (it's a solid enough figure to pad his accounts), though more notably at the stipulations behind it. ]

Is that truly necessary? If it's all the same to you, I'd much prefer to profit from the sidelines than, [ clearing his throat ] ahem, dirty my hands. I'm sure you understand.

[ Yes, understand and understand fast so he doesn't have to waste anymore time contemplating that gross imagery. This guy's going to run his "gentleman's club" like a slut factory and like bloody hell does he want to participate in that in any sense of the word. ]

Clean hands get you ten. If you want fifteen, you're going to have to play pied piper. I'm not a charity.

[Come on, Casval. It will be good for you.]

You don't even have to take any of my girls. Bring in that mistress of yours. We'll help keep your little indiscretions from prying eyes.

Fine.

[ Bullshit. He's not going. You can't make him. You might be able to drag him, but... look, he doesn't like getting touchy-feely, alright? Stop talking about it already. ]

And she's not my mistress, for the record. Nor have I ever taken a lover on the side, of any gender, despite what your tabloid friends may vomit in excess every week.

[ Little indiscretions, though, he has in abundance. Let's not talk about that, either. ]

[Oh, he'll get you to come. One way or another, he'll get you to come. He needs to get those soldiers marching in. You'll see your extra five percent after you've paid your dues and no sooner.]

Sure, sure. You're a monk with princess hair. Even if it's true, nobody's gonna buy it. People love a good story. I'm looking forward to writing a riveting tale. Now, has the bard earned his scotch?

[ You are a pompous little dick and he already despises you.

Still pulling out the scotch, though. ]

Less of the bard, more of the bitch, I'd think.

[ Though it is relieving, in a sense, that he doesn't have to put on an unnecessary show of politeness around this person. That got to be tiresome after awhile, and there's something to be said for bringing a little more honesty into the world, even if it was relentlessly brutal beneath the surface. ]

You must be a real treat at parties.

[Smug as he is, he'll just sit back and watch Casval pour. Gee thanks, he's quite aware of what he is.

I learned that I'll never win. Not that way. That's their game, their rules. I'm not going to fight them: I'm going to fuck them. That's what I know, that's what I am, and only by admitting what we are can we get what we want.]

I bring the treats to the parties, actually.

You are insufferably crass.

[ And fortunate in that Casval wasn't, at least not in the same ways. Have your cake and eat it too, Richard. Or drink it, rather. That is indeed some very nice scotch he's set out for you—and look, he even poured your glass first—so you'd better be damn grateful he didn't just toss you on out on your scaly ass after business had been concluded.

Naturally, Casval is expecting no gratitude whatsoever. That's what makes the sip of his own glass so blissful: alcohol to wash all the annoyances in his life away. ]

You'll do well here.

[Gratitude? What's that? He deserves everything he gets. He earns it. Ain't no beggar or taker here. Look at this faux Republican motherfucker sipping up all your expensive scotch. He's clawed his way up to the big leagues but he doesn't really have a handle on class. Nothing wrong with that. He won't forget where he came from. It's armor. It's what makes him so much better than everyone else. Nothing was handed to him and he didn't just lie back and whine when life decided to fuck him in the ass. Take that, hipster barista whose life is going nowhere. Deal with the market crash, trust fund babies. While you all sink, he'll keep swimming.]

I know.

[And that's a reply to both statements. Playing Han Solo for you, Princess Leia.]

[ He's a damned determined fish, Casval can attest to that much. There's hardly anything respectable about his personality, hardly anything worth salvaging in the morals department, but his tactics were sharp and his tongue sharper still. Both traits that could prove handy. Both traits that he possessed himself.

Never forget where you came from, huh? That's not a half bad philosophy to live by.

But you can take your princess puns and shove it, Dick. This one's in another castle. ]

Have you arranged a contractor for the site yet, or is this still in the planning stages? Projected date of start-up would also be good to know, for the sake of working around my schedule. I'm willing to cover any deficits in costs to an extent, but I'd like to see some raw numbers first before committing resources.

Slow down, girl. I just popped the question and you went and said "I want a bigger ring." We're not wedding planning just yet.

[Casval isn't the only person in authority he has to woo. He needs to get more money flowing to get a solid foundation. With any luck, he'll be breaking ground by May.]

[ Okay, princess is definitely pouting now. Feel free to make fun of that. ]

How big of a base do you even have for this operation? Don't tell me you've been blowing smoke this whole time.

You look like one of those girls from My Super Sweet Sixteen when you pout. "Daddy, I asked for a red BMW convertible. This is blue..."

[Mocking, he mimics the pout before pressing on with a smile.]

I'm a wizard with numbers. No smoke involved. Just have to tie up a few loose ends.

[ Casval hides a flustered huff behind his glass. ]

Just don't employ too much magic, Mr. Potter. We'll both wind up in hot water if you start casting your net willy-nilly.

Edited 2013-04-03 17:59 (UTC)

Thanks, Alan Rickman. I'll do my best not to die too hard.

ᴏɴᴇ. [ video; later afternoon ]

i'll edit if this is not ok!

NOPE completely good with this

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