percival moreau

“That’s exactly what I’m doing. Always been a sucker for self-inflicted punishment,” he replied dryly, though without any real animosity in his tone. “Is the Red Cross too tacky for you? I’m assuming that’s the type of hungry you’re talking about. If it’s not, I know some restaurants.” It was the type of hungry Percy was feeling as he stood anyway, putting some cash on the bar for his drinks and nodding at Nixon. “Let’s go then. 

Percy looked down at the name and laughed, shaking his head a bit, “you think? I’ve always wanted to be a Bea. Is it short for anything?” he inquired as he pulled out his wallet, handing the woman a ten for her tea. This place really did commit highway robbery but that was city prices, “Shame to waste a tea and still not get anything in turn. Green tea isn’t really my cup of tea either so I guess we both loss there.” Except he still had his coffee and didn’t have one. “It’s shame you’re not more of a Percy,” he derided lightly, lifting the cup that should’ve been his, “but at least let me get this for you.”

“Exactly– and that’s what’s important right now. You’re as committed as you’ve ever been. You haven’t wavered and not even this tragedy can make you.” Despite the fact that Percy had taken this job out of convenience more than anything, he did admire the mayor’s resolve. It wasn’t something he came across often in humans. They were all so fragile–– so easily broken and yet the man before him was anything but. If Percy was going to work for anyone out of convenience, at least Clayton wasn’t a pathetic mess. “It’s a catch 22, no one’s arguing that. We’re just trying to make the best decision with what we have. And, from what I’ve heard, they’ve been at this for longer than we’ve even been aware of.” Even amongst humans there had been talk about how thorough these terrorists were, too thorough to have done anything on a whim which could only mean years of planning such coordinated attacks. “I know it’s not about winning, Clay–– but we will. No more senseless loss. No more living in fear. The people can and should look to you. No one has all the answers but what mattes are the leaders who don’t stop looking for them. The leaders like you.”

“I could be,” he countered with a smirk before scoffing a bit, “not everyone seems miserable. Maybe it’s just you. I mean, it’s no wonder–– we haven’t seen each other in a while after all, Jos.” She’d been fun once. A distraction, sure, but someone he found intriguing at the time, maybe because she was trusting and easily influenced. She’d seen good in those when it wasn’t there. Like she had in him. And, of course, he’d disabused her of that notion altogether over time but, for a while, it had been fun. “It seems like it’s impossible to believe I’m in New York because a, I want to be and b, I may have even gotten a respectable job. Why is that so hard to believe?” He took a sip of his drink before nodding at hers, “can I get you another?” Percy assumed what the answer would be but that didn’t stop him from asking, amicable smile still in place. 

He pushed himself off from the wall she’d so rudely jerked him against and shrugged, fixing his previously pressed shirt, now ridden with wrinkles. Shame. “You always say that too,” he laughed easily, brushing a hand across his clean shaven jaw, “how you’re not like me, you’ll never be like me, you hate me, you want me to leave, yada yada yada.” History truly did repeat itself where Izzy and he were concerned. It couldn’t be helped. “You’ll continue to insist you’re not pretending until one day you snap and then you realize I was right all along, as usual. Really, Izzy,” he drew closer, stopping short a few feet away to avoid getting thrown into another wall or, even off the roof altogether, “aren’t you tired of acting like something else might happen? We both know how this goes.” She wasn’t nearly as stable as she seemed and despite how desperately she wished she was, the reality of the situation wouldn’t change: Isadora Bordeaux was always one step away from snapping altogether and Percy saw that clear as day. 

“Clearly not enough charm or I’d have been invited to dinner with her. Are you willing to part with it? I mean, provided you get the right compensation.” The painting wouldn’t go for less than fifty thousand cold sale, even more at an auction.

“You don’t think I’d ever do anything bad with them, do you?” He chuckled as he sat down, adjusting in his seat a bit, “I just need a bit more to go on than Clayton gives–– we’re trying to make your dad as relatable as possible, especially these days. Any tidbit or story you have could help with that. Don’t worry, he’ll review the speeches before he gives them anyway, and if he asks where I got this information from,” Percy grinned, “I won’t throw you under the bus. I just figured going directly to a first party source was better than extensive internet research.”

“Does your,” he nodded at the ring on the other’s finger, “care about how social their spouse is?” Husband, wife, Percy wasn’t one to guess these days and it didn’t matter much to him either. He figured whomever was putting up with Blaze had thick skin. In the same vein, he could admire how Blaze himself didn’t seem to give a shit to how he was perceived. “And for the record, yes, people usually ask questions when someone says something outlandish. And then they answer and then you ask something else and,” he waved a hand with a chucle, “you’re what? Mid-thirties or something? I shouldn’t have to be explaining this to you.”

“You’re telling me. The last time someone asked me if I was having a midlife crisis, it was almost their last question.” Of course, even if it had been, Percy would’ve never owned up to killing someone for something so frivolous unless he was feeling bored at the time. Which, luckily for the waiter who’d asked that thirty years ago, he hadn’t been. “I’ll just suffice it to say you look as beautiful as ever, Ms. Davenport. Not a day over...twenty-six? Twenty-seven?” They may not have officially interacted but he knew who she was and she was self-important enough to know that others did. “I mean, by comparison to some, you might as well have just rolled out the red carpet. I’d forgotten how much New Yorker’s don’t care.” It was part of the charm to the city, he felt, that people were so tied up in their own lives they didn’t give a shit about anyone else. He liked that–– there was no pretense and no notion of false warmth–– it just was what it was and Percy always appreciated transparency, though he rarely was transparent himself.

“Or maybe someone?” He smirked at Caroline, only teasing before a brow shot up in turn, “Impressed that I managed to get the job or impressed that I actually have one and aren’t wasting away my days?” Percy grinned now, gesturing to the next shop as indication for her to follow. He was getting a new watch, as though time actually mattered to the vampire. “I try my best to know anyway. And I wasn’t. I just filled in the spot when it become available. A terrible yet convenient tragedy, I think.”

“Do you have a sec, Derek?” He didn’t really wait for an invitation, taking the seat opposite his boss’s son. “Because I need any embarrassing stories you have of your dad since he refuses to share.” He had a notebook and pen in hand, which, despite his somewhat amused smile, showed he was more serious than not. @derek-calloway

“Uh...sorry, I think I grabbed your....tea? Is it?” Percy hand’t glanced when he’d picked up his drink, distracted by his phone when he took a sip and realized it wasn’t his coffee, black– but green tea. “I can get you a new one, unless you like black coffee which,” he nodded to the one that just came up in an offer of exchange if she was so inclined. 

“Yeah? Have you gotten up to Tom Fords yet or still making Ray-Bans money?” Percy grinned before running a hand over his jaw, “I’ve got a job. A nice honest living as the mayor’s speech writer, nothing too fancy. You know how I like to fly under the radar.” Half true and half patently false. “His previous writer...poor guy, went to celebrate New Year’s and, well, we all know what happened there.” It was sad as much as death could be to some, but it had been an opportunity for Percy to step in so he couldn’t complain. It wasn’t like he knew the guy. @caroline-bissett