The Greatest Skin Flick Ever Made

Cast: date: '23 September 2012'
place: 'Watch Safehouse'
participants: 'Tucker, Cedric'
synopsis: 'Food, business scheming, and other manly talk. Oh, and monsters.'
log: "\n\n It's been a quiet couple of weeks on this topic, all things considered, aside from Cedric's emails on the topic, which have not exactly been legion and when they do appear are so cryptic as to barely make sense. Finding the safehouse where he's been holed up, though, isn't all that difficult, and the interior of the place seems to have been neatened up somewhat since Tucker's last visit, and the smell of baking chicken lingers in the air - basic, but it's food, and a bag of frozen vegetables sits on the countertop, apparently ready to be steamed.\n The system admin himself is seated at the small kitchen table, dressed in old sweats and beaten trainers. His iPad sits on the table in front of him, his injured hand resting on a towel on the table while he manipulates the device quickly and intently with his left. The movements are quick, darting, and focused, with occasional pauses as if for thought. There's an ashtray nearby with an unlit cigarette sitting across it, and a lighter next to it. \n\n The sound of the door opening is probably the first hint that Tucker's here, followed by it closing behind him. \"Hey,\" he calls out, craning his neck to look around before spotting the man in the kitchen and striding that way. He's holding a sandwich in hand, half-wrapped in wax paper, and as he approaches he tears a bite out of it, mumbling around the mouthful of food, \"Said y'had somethin' for me?\"\n\n At the opening of the door, Cedric looks up, and half rises until he sees who it is. \"Oi,\" he greets, relaxing considerably and fairly falling back into his chair. \"Yup. Reckon we've got a dodgy corporation front on our hands.\" With a tap of a key at the bottom of the device and several more swipes and taps on the screen, he pulls up a notepad in which is typed a number of notes. \"Didn't go after the monster yet, did you?\" He looks up at Tucker, although his head remains down over the device. \"Have a sit,\" he gestures with the splinted hand at another chair at the table.\n\n \"Do I look like a complete bloody idiot?\" Tucker twists 'round one of the other chairs at the table, and then he drops to straddle it backwards, arms folding over the back of the seat. A smirk curls to his lips, \"No, no I do not. So no, I haven't. What's this about a corporation?\"\n\n \"Good. I'm getting to that.\" Cedric frowns at his notes, then leans back. \"Watch records show other creatures of the same type. Brute force won't work. Heat sources or freezing it might work, but past creatures have been taken down by cutting off their water source.\" A couple more taps and swipes, and he pulls up a map of the sewers, then pushes it over to Tucker, one foot beginning to tap under the table. While he waits, he leans back in his chair, watching Tucker. \"Like we said, I reckon it's being fed. Likely on purpose. It's loads stronger than the notes suggest.\"\n\n \"It's been fed… fed what? Like, someone's sendin' extra water down th'pipes?\" Tucker pauses, then, and then he shoots a rather irritated look across the table, \"Oh, for fuck's sake, don't tell me that this is some sort've bloody real estate scheme.\"\n\n That gets a snort of laughter from Cedric. \"All right, I'll not tell you. Reckon it's a bit more, though.\" The smile fades; the tapping doesn't. \"Looked into Lamia Industries a bit. Two months ago, Hargrove refused a generous purchase offer for that block of flats from an organization called Concave Property Developments, which is owned by Lamia Industries. Their website is a load of horseshit, or so m'dad would've said.\" He pauses. \"A proper company states its message and mission in words so simple a child could figure it out. This is all in business language, which means something isn't right and any proper investor'll avoid it.\"\n\n A raise of Tucker's hand rubs his fingers against the bridge of his nose, his eyes closing for a moment. \"I'm not going to like this,\" he mutters under his breath, \"Am I?\"\n\n \"Probably not.\" There's a glint of amusement in Cedric's eyes, one that matches the smirk he's wearing. \"This corporation have got lots of different involvements, none of them related. Usually that means the company's a front. But for what? That Gloom portal's been down there for a while, though. Might be more records on it … but don't know if that will help you.\" \n His smirk fades, to be replaced with an open look of concern. \"You ask me, this corporation have got someone in it, maybe more than one, that is working for the Gloom. Who, and where, I don't know. This lot have got loads of money and probably pull in the business world, Harris. If the Watch is going up against it … and reckon we likely are … we've got to be careful. Don't let them realize that's who they're dealing with till they're exposed.\" \n\n \"Okay. Okay, so…\" Tucker's hand brushes a bit through the air, fingers waving off the other matters, \"…how is this— uh, what was it called again?— being fed? What are they feeding it to make it stronger?\"\n\n At that, Cedric sighs, the smile fading entirely. \"Don't know.\" He pulls the iPad back to him and taps a key again, then pulls up a web browser, his foot tapping if anything faster than before. He is silent for several moments, his fingers tapping out a search, rather slowly: construction new river head islington \n At that moment, there's a loud beep behind Tucker as the oven goes off. Cedric looks up, and mutters. \"Bollocks. Forgot about that.\" He taps the Search key and leaves the thing to load while he stands, fairly shooting out of his chair. \n\n \"We may have to arrange for some extra irrigation, or blocking off some tunnels that divert water there, or something… I suppose we'll find out when we go down there,\" says Tucker with a grimace and a tight shake of his head, \"Regardless, we're going to have to talk to blood Hargrove again. Time for the woman to talk.\"\n\n While Tucker is talking, Cedric pulls a hot pad and lifts a small pan of baked chicken onto the stove to cool, then shuts the oven with a kick. Tucking his splinted hand close up against himself, he fills another saucepan with a little bit of water and frowns at the bag of frozen vegetables before grabbing a fork, pinning the bag down with his other arm, and forcibly tearing open the bag. He seems much less out of it than he has been in the past week or two.\n \"Reckon so,\" he answers after a moment. \"Sooner the better. Don't fancy leaving that lying about. Definitely don't wait for me.\" He's still working at the counter, intent on what he's doing. It's slow going, but he seems to be managing. \"Maybe Hargrove can even help.\"\n\n \"I'm goin' out on a limb here and going to say she's aware of the thing down there,\" Tucker says a bit dryly, one hand coming up to rub between his eyes, \"If it comes to a sewer march, I'll try'n bribe Murdoch to come along. She'd be… very useful in somethin' like this.\" Then he takes a bite of the sandwich, looking distracted and thoughtful as he chews and swallows. He must be very distracted. He doesn't seem to notice he got a bunch of wax paper with that bite.\n\n Cedric's answering snort is clear enough. \"No joke there, if she doesn't turn about on you.\" He simply shakes his head, turns on the stove, and returns to his seat at the table. The bitten-off wax paper catches his attention, and he glances at it, but only shakes his head. \"Think you can keep her quiet enough that Lamia doesn't realize who hit 'em?\" That question is lower and more quiet. \"We don't want them cottoning on till we know the whole story.\"\n\n \"I think she's on our side,\" Tucker replies with a waggle of the sandwich at Cedric, \"I'll talk t'her. Not alone, I'll bring Ruth at least, or somebody anyway, see if she's willin' to talk.\"\n\n \"Murdoch or Hargrove?\" Cedric drops back into the chair, wincing a little, and leans back in it, eyeing Tucker. \"Reckon you're right on Hargrove. It's Murdoch I'm worried about. Might be useful but she's too damned loud for her own good.\" Again, his comments are low and quiet. \n\n \"Oh, oh— I was talkin' about Hargrove.\" Tucker's lips twitch in a faint smirk, and a rustle of wax paper and bread-and-meat together again, \"Murdoch'll listen to me, no need to worry your pretty head about it there, Moseley.\" Another bite's taken, and he chews contentedly.\n\n Something in Tucker's comment elicits a flash of Cedric's eyes, and he levels a stare at Tucker for a long moment, but instead of saying anything, just gets up and pulls his pot off the stove. Silence ensues, broken only by the sounds of plates and silverware, as he puts together a plate of baked chicken and broccoli and brings it to the table. It takes him several trips, but he manages well enough. \n\n \"Anyway.\" Tucker's free hand braces on the table's edge, and he pushes himself up to his feet, un-straddling the chair, \"Anythin' you need down here, Moseley? Some more food, some skin flicks, anything?\"\n\n \"Ruth's been helping me out now and again,\" Cedric answers, having gotten up to get a glass of water. \"Reckon I'm set, thanks.\" The mention of skin flicks gets a chuckle. \"Internet's the greatest skin flick ever made,\" he adds with a smirk. \"Been doing some dev work. Haven't had the time for that in ages.\" He relaxes, just a little. \"Won't be sorry when I can type properly again, though.\" \n\n \"Hah! You're right there, mate,\" Tucker chuckles heartily, \"An' I'm sure you'll be right as rain in no time. No time at all. Drop me a line if you need anything, eh?\" He turns, then, taking another bite of bread, meat, veggies and wax paper as he heads for the door.\n\n \"Right, I will. Thanks for coming by. Good luck with Hargrove … and be careful.\" Cedric chuckles and settles back down into his chair as he watches Tucker go, the fingers of his left hand moving towards the fork as he prepares to enjoy his own dinner. \n"
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