She asked about his proxy and he glanced at her with a blank expression. Wondering if it really was all that odd to have a proxy attend business. He supposed he was at the very least, the only one in his industry who had one. Ecco had become so normalized to him that he dropped her name and position casually in conversations all the time. First with the detectives and then now with her. The woman he randomly started drinking with. He never would have dropped this much information about himself before but then again... he wouldn't have even left his bunker before. Something changed in him. Something fundamental. "My proxy. She's here. Perhaps I can introduce you to her later." He offered. Not bothering to look around for Ecco now. His full attention was still on her. There was a pull of a connection between them. A sort of... kindred spirit. She had a fire in her eyes, matching the colour of her hair. One that might burn as hot as his own.
"Interesting." He told her, leaning in a little. "Gotham has such a small public park. There should really be more green in this city... don't you agree?" Jeremiah asked. There was a lot of things he'd change in this city. There were too many people. Too much noice. He wanted it to look more like his bunker. With twists and turns and endless walls... his vision could include quite a bit of green too. Now that he was having a vision at all. Sure... there might be bloodshed and bombings in the meantime but it would be all to reach a goal... he could tear it all down and start anew. She could be an asset when rebuilding it all in his image. He could practically see it all now. The beautiful chaos of burning streets littered with bodies and severed limbs and the exquisite labyrinth it could become. Now... How do you ask someone to get on board with mass murder all for a better world? "Perhaps we could help each other after all... could I get your number, Miss?"
Pam gave a delicate little shrug. She had always represented her own work, for good or for ill. For one thing, her work was hers, and she wasnât going to let anyone else take credit for it -- even if it was supposedly in her name. And for another, she typically did just fine on her own. Even without use of her pheromones, people tended to have trouble saying no to her. She could tell the young man sitting in front of her was no fool. Surely he had the capability to be charming, or at least get his point across. Enough, combined with any sort of talent, to be successful in business. Her thoughts could only lead back to one conclusion. There was something about Xander Wilde which was highly unusual, even for this strange city. She could only wonder what -- or who -- it was. âYes, Iâm sure sheâs lovely,â she said, with a noncommittal smile.Â
She smiled again as he commented on her research, this time more fully. âYes, it is,â she agreed, tilting her head with another smile in his direction. She huffed, sitting up straighter. âOh, yes,â she said. âFrankly, I think we would do better with a complete reversal. A handful of people and a vast amount of green.â She reached into the clutch purse sitting on her lap and pulled out a little notepad, fishing around for a pen. Pam wrote out her number and tore out the page with a quick flick of her wrist, folding it over and handing it to him. She smiled once more. âI hope we can work together, Mr. Wilde. I think it would be quite the partnership.â













