UNCLE TEDDY

A list of Teddy’s Character Tropes

Murder Runs in the Family

Criminal Lawyer

Lady Killer

50s Vintage

Favorite Uncle

Perfect Gentleman

Serial Bachelor

Midwestern Hospitality

“a friend among many.” they seem to have lost some of their intrinsic value when tied to a sham— no wrongs or rights to be argued. after all, doesn’t one sit at her vanity, glinting in the morning sunlight asking if it might ever been seen in polite society again. the answer slowly becomes a more and more resounding no, the sounds echo through the empty halls. but she is hardly fool enough to get rid of such things for sentimental reasoning. a diamond was hardly the most honorable of the gems. “who’s to fault the ruby or sapphire for a lack of popular imagination.” 

she stares at the antique bar, the quiet oscillation between following her thoughts or listening to what she’d been told. it was her house, her stock, and yet— there was still one unkind lingering thought that she’d best simply do what was asked. when was the last time someone had braved the doors of her estate for the pleasure of company. not that she needed— desired his attention as such. but, there are some lessons ingrained for so long, by so many, that there must be residue. the kind of lesson that one might as well say was old testament in its results. she reached for the rye whiskey. 

“southern hospitality certainly has a hard time finding a home in california, wouldn’t you say?” there’s a smooth edge to her tone, the perfection of an accent that finds itself middling in the generic american. the southern drop has been all but practiced out of it, no need for birmingham when hollywood abounds. “but i can try my best impression if you’d like.”

"That's not half bad," he tells her with humor in the corners of his smile. A compliment to maybe an unintentional joke, a little pull of the leg, a glimpse in the old jewelry box that's somewhere upstairs. It's a smile he wears with ease, even when it's ever-morphing into the next wave of thoughts, the new change of a beat, just as light and quick as one can be on their own two feet. "Can't throw all the blame when sapphires get the royal shaft the second your eyes hit them," he slides in, taking note of the room they're in before his gaze settles on her, the girl with pals in the form of rocks. "I'll have to introduce you to better friends sometime.--Even the belle at the ball could always use a few more to call her own."

She reaches for the bottle. The glasses are next. It's a ritual that's out of practice. The pauses. The stares. The actions fall into place all the same. Like clockwork once the key has been turned a few times. These walls are old, and the faces that have seen them in person are probably hard from being new ones besides his. There are no cobwebs left in corners, but the ghosts of their existence still linger, ground deeper in the woodgrain than what meets the feathers of the weekly dusting. Somewhere in this room even lies the ghost of the woman very much alive right now. Call it a seance. Call it an impression.

"Now that you mention it..." He starts to grin. California has only ever been a stop on a never-ending route, destination unknown. But he's here now. And so is she. "How about we forget this place for the night?" Teddy's hands take over the glasses, picking them up so he can guide her to the open couch. Only when she's within close distance does he extend her drink out for her to claim from him. "Give it a whirl. For old time's sake."

“are diamonds of interest to you mr. bates?” she returns his question, turns it over in her own mind trying to place it as either small talk or genuine question. there is a possibility that it might be both, it might be something else all together. but she is content for either of those to take forefront. after all, they are but colleagues after one dinner. the great doors of the house offer little resistance, staff are flies on the wall. no one dares interact with her any longer, she does not press the issue. sometimes payment much be enough to ensure loyalty, she certainly has no legacy. 

“you can leave them.” a strong oak end table waits for them as sole greeting. it stands in the middle of the room unadorned. if she were touched by the gesture of flowers, she has learned to keep such expression polite, there is nothing to be “they will find a home.” half built from casualty, half from ignorance. she did not spend the beginning of her marriage venturing into the kitchen for vases and silverware, she has little use to feign such interest now. “what is your drink of choice?” she questions as though the walls might be able to hear her and produce such a thing. “i’ve found i am too presumptuous when i offer brandy in these situations.”

"Only for the right gal one day." He turns his head in her direction, a smile dancing across his face with eyes lit up with interest. He's lived up to his promise: ask him anything and he'll give her the truth. It's not a promise that has been set in stone to go both ways, but so far there has been very little to question from her lips. He tests it, returning the question now colored by white lace and black ties. "How's that, Miss Elkins? Are diamonds a girl's best friend?"

There's movement in the woodwork, people crawling out from it, shifting around in the shadows, making themselves to be invisible in a house that seemingly operates itself. Teddy remembers his old man when they were living not too far from here. He had a real sweet housekeeper named Josephine. What a doll she was. Mary's staff doesn't seem to be cut from the same cloth, but he still manages to brush eyes with one, friendly as can be, a wonder to how many ears these walls really have.

"Brandy, huh? That's some drink you've got there," he teases lightly as the bouquet is released in passing to the table, leaving it as busy-work for whichever pair of hands get to it first. His own happen to be free now, slipping into his pockets. "I can never turn down a good Manhattan if there's a full bar to pick from, but I wouldn't mind having a taste of that southern hospitality I've heard all about."

@teddybates​

a black dress is a uniform, a habit one might say. it is non-offensive, hints towards mourning. there is nothing obtrusive about it. though now distinction between the skirt length, the bodice style, might be observed by more impolite company, she no longer presumes that she is with such a type. she waited to see, golden cross hanging proudly to deliver judgement. for a moment, she wavers— thinks it might be her own. finally, she speaks, “would you like a nightcap?”

 “i don’t suppose you’ve been here before?” though the answer would be obvious enough. how could he have, when there has been no one behind the iron wrought gates but her and the staff, the occasional mad man. “the house is so much like a museum,” niceties pad impropriety, they feign innocence where a better girl would have sent her date home. still, she finds there is more to say, “you might find it intriguing.”

The thunderbird pulls through the open gates, the driveway up to the manor driven on as if he's already circled it once or twice before, as if the car knows her way around without him. Headlights get turned off, the engine too, a stand-still stop that comes before he's able to walk around to open the passenger door like a gentleman should. His hand is left palm-up, for her to take to help her out with a smile to boot. He thinks this will be the part where they'll exchange final pleasantries, bid each other a good-night and sweet dreams, don't let the bed bugs bite, but his smile spreads instead.

"Thought you'd never ask," he teases before leaning over to take her bouquet for her. A dozen red roses is an awful lot for a gal to carry alone. "They might need a drink, too. How about we save a glass for them?" The light-hearted jest follows as he walks side-by-side her, a slowness to the steps as if to drag the night on by force. If he didn't know better, he might say she's almost nervous by the way she's talking. It's enough to make a guy shoot a grin in her direction.

"Sounds to me you give the Hope diamond a run for its money, Miss Elkins. Every bit as priceless."

she doesn’t believe in honesty, not really. not open and shown for whoever might be across the table at a dinner table. it must be earned, fought for. and in the end it still might not find itself to be completely palatable. there are certain things that are certainly meant for the individual and her god alone, not for the tipped ears of a charming man. but she is not the one who must answer in these terms, she supposes that will make do for such a first meeting. she is not sure that she expects every answer to align with what he’s promised her, but at least it will be a quick journey back to isolation if that is the case. no smile has found its way to unlocking her heart, but at least he hopes to make headway. 

his eyes meet hers, she offers only a nod in response to his choice. is it not after all, most people would be caught up in such notions and assumptions. the perception of others is perhaps all she has at some junctures. to ignore such a thing would be downfall. “after hours.” she finally consents, as though business and the personal could not possibly cross the boarders of five o’clock. “is there anything else you need mr. bates?”

Her question produces an easy smile, one that's delivered with a sway of the head, teasing and charmed. There’s not much in this world that Teddy Bates has ever needed. Wanted, sure. Needed, though, who’s to say? "Not in the slightest. You've been more than enough, Ms. Elkins. It sure has been a pleasure to remember, even during business hours." His calling card is in her possession, and in his is a place and a time, not to mention the date to go along with it. "How lucky can one guy be?" he throws to her in parting, face still aglow, before he and his briefcase cross the threshold, out of sight.

Basics

Full Name: Theodore “Teddy” Edward Bates

Birthday: July 31st

Age: 39

Zodiac Sign: Leo

Religion: Born Catholic

–Religious Level (1-10): ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Birthplace: A little piece of everywhere. Officially born in Naperville, Illinois

Current Residence: Singleton House [x] Los Angeles, California

Height: 6’ 1″

Hair Color: Light brown with silver tones

Eye Color: Light blue

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Love/Romantic Preference: Heteroromantic. A nice proper gal!

Relationship Status: Single. Dating

Languages Known: English, Spanish, French, Latin (not fluent)

Details

Car: 1958 Ford Thunderbird in red and white [x]

Phone: Motorola Razr (2nd Gen) in liquid mercury. Usually isn’t found on him.

Music Genres: [x]

Wardrobe: 1950s wear. Gray suits [x], [x]. Casual wear [x]. Black leather monk shoes [x]

Estimated Net Worth: $10,000,000

Ransom Value: The Bates children are on the case. Teddy waiting for them with a bloody knife and smile. Missed out on all the action!

Education: JD from Yale University

Accent: Midwestern American

Bloodlines + Connections

Lindy Bates Eloise Bardot || Niece || Little Helper/Heartbreaker

Micah Bates || Nephew || Mikey/Whiz Kid

Harvey Bates || Older Brother

Betty Bates || Sister-In-Law

Anna Hepburn Killgrave  || the one that got away

Mary Elkins || Colleague || Angel Eyes

Marcelo Rico || Pest

Levels

Drinking (1-10): 4. Never drunk.

Swearing: 0.

Smoking status: If you see him smoking, there’s one less in the population. Otherwise, 0.

Drugs: 0!

Cooking proficiency: He’s more of a go out to eat type or come home to a cooked meal guy. N/A.

Intelligence: 9

Emotional/Social Intelligence: 10

Creativity: 8

“only cautious. we are still practically strangers.” though her choice of words rings distinctly hollow, as though there might indeed be the wish for something more if she gave herself pause. who would not need the moment to assess the risks with such a public outing. she herself had barely been seen in public, though the past few months gave rise to a few more occasions. perhaps this was one, the thought lingers longer than she thought it would. “though if it is a matter of good manner…” she means to finish her sentence, but his word choice dampens whatever questionable emotions she might have felt stir given the earnestness of the rest of his offer.

one could not simply rely on the first person who offered nicety. she was in no drought of interpersonal relationships, she had no need to jump as high as asked. still, the hour is given, the space in her own calendar more than ready to accept plans. though she might have wished for more time, she speaks anyways. “i prefer the vespertine for evening meals. it’s more refined.”

"That's an easy fix." He's undaunted, as if he can hear the subtle tone in her voice that makes all the world of difference. It's not like he hasn't had plenty of experience with the cautious ones before. Can never be too careful in a world like theirs. "How's this? Ask me anything you like tonight. No holds barred. You'll know me from the inside-out by the time dessert rolls around."

Teddy Bates means what he says. There is something inexplicably honest in what is told to her. She could fire off any question at him and have it be met with the truth. Does his face not attest to the notion? Who could ever look at those blue eyes and doubt? What man of deceit could have a smile like his while a ballpoint pen is taken from inside his breast pocket to write down his personal number? "It's a date," he jokes with a flash of the gaze before crossing the final seven in a ten digit line, flipping the calling card in his hold for her to take. "Give me a ring to tell me your address."

“you brought a present!” of course he did, always plied with gifts and winks, one thousand extra reasons to keep his name in her good book. she takes the bag, aglow with the light of more than attention, of understanding. who else would know her better. she slides the bag off his finger, opening it to reveal the tube of lipstick that would go perfect in any girl’s purse. she grins from ear to ear, pulling it out and feeling for the trigger where the label should be. if only she could really open it here in front of all the people trying to busy themselves. “i think that’s just the sweetest thing!” it makes its way into her dress pocket, the folds of tulled material concealing her newest acquisition. there’s really no reason to return it to the bag when it could come in so handy. “it’ll keep some guys on the real up and up now.”

she knows he was far, customs far seems almost to ridiculous to still be believed when there was only the new plus one she had for the right of her night. “i couldn’t do all this as a bates!” her nose wrinkles, the name conjuring up on the drabbest of childhoods, punctured with bright spots. bardot was the inverse. “it’s got a ring to it! eloise bardot, ya know!” she loves to hear it, the girl-image that she’s created through her own tenacity. “it wasn’t you, but the rest of them? what a load of suckers.”

"I only had you to think of the moment it caught my eye," he tells her, as warm as the blade is cold. It's their world; everyone else is just renting space. Plenty of evictions from the tone of her voice, and he can practically light up the place with the look in his eyes, the smile he lets her in on. "That a girl. What I tell ya? You're not meant for just any ol' Clyde. They've got a lot to live up to." Or they just simply won’t live at all. A dash of a wink is thrown over before he straightens back up, hands slipping back to his pockets as the space becomes theirs, a shift of energy, walls now colored in electric blue, lighting from sputnik fixtures.

His smile hasn't deigned to leave him. He's tickled. Head swaying to the side before it shakes back to her. What a trip! But who could blame her? "Oh boy. What I wouldn't give to have grandpa Bates around to get a load of this. Calling the family a bunch of squares. He'd flip his lid." Teddy's look isn't made to fool her. He telegraphs exactly what he means to her, knowing just the ones in the hot seat. "I guess that leaves it to Mikey to turn things around from here on out, huh?"

“and yet it is called the city of angels.” there is no humor to be found in the irony, only the gray truth. it could be given any name, and it would still be the same city that found itself rooted in death, violence, lust, excess. nothing that acknowledgement can change, and certainly not the conversation to pursue in the given circumstances. she knows a few ways to navigate to the end of a topic, sealing it off as he gains the files he wanted. “you’ll have to excuse me.” she would rather not acknowledge the small town nature that the comments could be spurned from, anywhere was better than birmingham. “speech without action can sometimes be less than inspired.”

but she cannot say that it’s a true apology, no manners have been misplaced. and he’s come out ahead in the negotiation, having received everything he’d like. “i will wait hear what you find.” there was no reason to avoid someone at work. though the doors were locked to the outside, once someone was in they were to be tolerated. although those someones rarely made forays into the personal any longer.

his offer is met with the briefest flicker of confusion, as though it was the only move she hadn’t calculated for. of course it’s only a seconds hesitation before her expression smooths over once more. “are you asking me to dinner?” to simply throw out the invitation would be a grave miscalculation for someone hoping to make friends with any other department. but, she gives benefit to him. “some might be hesitant to do so.” the bad jokes grow acrid on her tongue, the lonely nights stretch. “but there are a few palatable restaurants for such an endeavor.” 

When she asks about dinner, he's got all the hallmarks of having a laugh except the noise itself. The last trait of boyhood comes in the form of dimples, grin of his embedding them in place, reaching all the way up to his cheekbones before disappearing to crinkling eyes. "Gee, it looked like I threw you for a loop for a second there. Don't tell me you might be one of those hesitant to accept types," he teases back before a shoulder shrugs, the actions of some people don't apply to him. He's not some. He's barely people. "How I see it, if you can't ask a girl out to dinner, you've got no business talking to her at all. There's something real impolite about the whole deal."

There's no rejection to the idea that comes his way. His smile hasn't ever left, but it makes itself more prominent for a moment, a drop of amusement at chosen words. "Palatable, huh? That's some review." But he doesn't mind. It's not the food he's going out with. "Pick your poison, and I'll pick you up. How's 8 o'clock sharp sound?--I'll make sure to bring you back before curfew."

“i would rather avoid such places.” though she speaks the words of a hypocrite, given their locale. still, chicago holds even less appeal for her. there is no reason to give up her position here, in career or society. “though i wouldn’t deny the need for an escort.” some things have fallen out of fashion in these modern times, but she’s hardly one to run and try and catch up. to survive in the world alone is possible, but it always works better for two. such ideas tend to be personal, not yet to be shared with someone who’s just been announced as coworker. 

‘the very one.” although there are only a few film titles to ever juggle given the season, there are some peculiarities surrounding the project she would be better to stay informed. “although i’m sure you’re aware the discussions that take place in these offices must stay as such.” she has no particular care about who might be discussing contracts, “you may have the casts’.” they have circled back, but the message has since changed. information traded enough to merit the new answer. “i will put through a request. you can expect them on your desk in the afternoon.” 

there’s no room for angels when they’re both benefitting from what’s going to be done. “the door is open for those who can do their work, mr. bates.” who was she to deny such a thing. there was no sense in feigned humility, it only served to waste time on both sides. “i would hardly reject intelligence, there are simply rules that must be followed.” she pauses to send an email to her secretary, the paperwork finding itself to mr. bates sooner rather than later. “i only hope that you find enough to report.”

"Is that so?" His lips are tugged up at the ends, words of hers the trigger point. He's a great listener. Ears just aren't there for decoration. With a memory like a steel trap, they just go hand-in-glove. "How about around here? The word is the place is jumping with vices." Not at all a kind of town for a girl to be walking around at night, especially the nice ones in offices that go against the grain.

He's all about confidentiality. Knows it frontwards and back, even draws a little cross over his heart with his pointer. Nothing short of a bible to swear an oath to. What's not to trust when his commitment is done over a sharkskin suit? Doesn't need a single word to add to the weight of it; instead he's got an appreciative look to pass on to her for all the help. "You sure know how to make a guy feel welcome. You're all right by me." He's got what he's asked for, folder passed from one department to his very hand. But business isn't over. "If that's all it takes to get past the locks, you'll be seeing me around."

The folder is slipped through the briefcase, popped open just enough to keep it safe and sound before it clicks back shut, combination code reset. Teddy's eyes fall back to the girl who made it all happen. "I don't know about you, but boy, is it a hard time to get anything done on an empty stomach." And isn't that the truth? Isn't it so when all he wants to do is show some thanks for all the trouble? "Would you have your calendar free tonight, Miss Elkins?"

perhaps she’s always been wary of the unannounced, those who have not yet made their way into the inner-circles of a society, the stranger who appears without connection to friend or family. it would be of some truth to say that her childhood taught her distrust to all but one. but her days of reliance on jon to separate out those who can be trusted are no longer, and she must rely on one the red words of the bible that has been left in his stead. love thy stranger as thou love yourself; appeal to the greater nature. who was she to deny such earnestness without justification. 

“yes well, this city certainly has its share of vices.” as though she had not survived it for years without the wavering of her moral beliefs, the continuance of the rules that made her forever impenetrable to those who might otherwise have been considered staff. temptation has no room in her mind to grow, she simply denies it the light. “we’ve begun to subtract the amount of cancellation broadcasts,” she asks not why, only follows as fit. “so, you see the work has simply slowed in this particular area.”

she has been asked directly, and so she would not deny. “if you’d like there’s been special interest in the contracts for the cast of—” a pause as she looks at her planner, “the beguiled. consideration should be taken to make sure their contracts are sound.” she hardly dealt in specific projects, less so in particular people, but a task was still a task. “a new set of eyes would be appreciated before any drastic actions befall them.”

He chuckles. There's nothing new to him about cities of sin. Golly, he's been to about every one of them. "You should get a load of Chicago sometime." He remembers it well, a young lawyer in particular. "I wouldn't let a lady out of my sights, day or night, up there." They have a penchant for being snatched up, especially at fine restaurants.

"The Beguiled, huh?" He knows of it well, just well enough to know the star of it, the brightest one there is, bright enough to make his smile get that added sparkle. "I know just the gal to get a kick out of that." There's nothing short of pride for his little niece, nothing short of knowing that he's taught her everything she needs to know not to worry her pretty head when faced with added attention. She'll do just fine. Now, as far as everyone else is concerned, that's just a dang shame. "Some flick." Compliment, even when he knows only actress and synopsis. What else does a man need to know to like something?

"Looks like we took the scenic route to get back to where we started out from," he takes a crack at with her with a wondering tilt of the head. "Are you going to show me the door if I ask to take a peak at their contracts this round? You'd be a real angel to give me a leg up."

“decidely not.” she sits back in her chair, the illusion of a conversation among equals disparaged in one comment. although it is hard to imagine that her beliefs have made it very far into popular circulation, she knows a few who would consider the topic to border on superstition. they would be incorrect, and she would be giving the same answer. 

“alright.” though she doesn’t seem to give much acknowledgement to the padding that surrounds his answer, the facts are ascertained. criminal defense law nestles right in with the topics that might find themselves in discussion with the different cancellations that find their way on air. every so often someone without a contract finds their way onto the stage, and the company must tread carefully. “idle hands have often been called the devil’s playthings.” she has no real love for her job, no inspiration for this position when compared to her predecessors. and yet, there was nowhere else to go. “i’ve found this position to be something predestined.” hadn’t she recommended two for the position, only to find herself once again with the title. “i’ve been unable to find someone more suited to it than myself.”  and the department ran smoothly, a sure sign of the rightness in her decision to stay. “my particular niceness has yet to find itself suited for philanthropy, as i’m sure has suggested.”

"Knock on wood." Knuckles from a free hand rap against the desk that separates them, the gesture an extension of something playful, something that if any offense has been made it aims to smooth over. Besides, she has his focus, a pair of light blue eyes cushioning her frame as she talks. He looks intrigued, a small tip of the head while religion bleeds in. It's no surprise. For a man who knows the name Elkins already, hearing a touch of the bible is nothing short of expected. He's simply digesting it, interested in its flavor, seeing how it pairs with what they share.

"How about that? They look real clean to me. Sparkling." His eyes shift up from the glance he's taken of her hands, not idle, can't be for it to all jive. No devil means nothing evil, means nothing wrong. Everything for a reason, everything falling into its place, predestined or not. "You're doing a swell job around the place," he tells her, "but I've got a helping hand to lend out, maybe take a load off your shoulders." Oh, sweet charity. He's always liked the name, and if he needs to convince her, he's more than happy to do so. "It'd make for some good philanthropy work. You'd be keeping these hands too busy for a warm visit from downstairs to shake them."

which name would she prefer? the question has garnered little of her attention, whether out of habit or respect she has little in the way of correction. but she supposes the gesture is more for her late husband than herself, as though it would be disrespectful to the memory to have him forgotten so easily. she might stray into wondering if the same honor has been given to his victims, if it were her in his stead. but she’s hardly in this position for her innate curiosity, “elkins is fine,” she thinks over the implications, to shed the shroud of mourning now after all this time. she hasn’t worn he ring in months, it sits tarnishing in the gold jewelry box on her vanity. “although you might have better luck with astor.” 

after all, it still remains the name on the door. “—mr. bates.” his own introduction is tacked on, as though it were an after thought to her own correction. the business card is taken as soon as it’s offered, manners engrained far beyond what he might try and suggest. nicknames were for friends, hardly suitable for the new acquaintance. “i was unaware of a new addition to the legal team, apologies.” the card is set down on the desk, “which is your speciality, if you don’t mind the question.”

"I'll take a roll of the dice." He appears to be amused. It's a real gas, you know. Playing footsie with names of all things, doesn't matter if the scenery is sprinkled with headstones; they're all overgrown and waiting to be forgotten. He plays all the same, takes another turn, making his own luck. "Unless you're the superstitious type," he adds, a charmed slant to the smile he wears before shrugging it off.

"How can I say no to a gal wanting to know me? I'm an open book." And he does look the part. There's nothing to hide. His briefcase might as well be see-through. "I've got a real knack for criminal defense law. Guess it doesn't hurt to have another pair of eyes to make sure everything's above board in a joint like this." He still gets a kick out of the cancellation department, the very core of it is a laugh riot, but he's not laughing right now, his thoughts are still wandering around the blonde, curiouser and curiouser. "What's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?" he wonders. "If you don't mind the question," he tacks on, politeness returned with a bow on top.