4997/Shaw's Gambit pt. 1 - Cloak and Dagger

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Shaw's Gambit pt. 1 - Cloak and Dagger
Date of Scene: 03 February 2021
Location: Abandoned Rectory - Derelict Church
Synopsis: Those kids are more jaded than Shaw anticipated! But, maybe, there's a glimmer of hope.
Cast of Characters: Sebastian Shaw, Tandy Bowen, Tyrone Johnson

Sebastian Shaw has posed:
The car has been sitting outside the church for a long time. Too long. Black. Towncar. Late model. Perfectly clean. It is NOT from around here. It has been running, too. The occupants -- two at least, possibly three -- haven't moved, and it seems like they are waiting for someone, or something to happen.

After a couple of hours, the driver's door opens, and a man gets out. He walks around the car, and then opens the rear passenger door, and out steps Sebastian Shaw. The man stands for a moment or two, looking up and down the street, before he straightens up his suit and tie, and crosses the street, walking right to the door of the abandoned church, and knocking on the door three times.

Tandy Bowen has posed:
"The car hasn't moved for quite some time and there is at least three people inside it." Tandy says to Cloak from her spot in the balcony as she balances carefully on a beam, staring out through a crack in the stained glass window that faces the street. This church hasn't seen life in years, broken down and forgot about. For the most part, these streets belongs to the gangs, the druggies and the hopeless, adn thus, any faith they had in the Lord is long gone.

"Someone is coming over to the church. I don't think they're cops. Suit and tie type. FBI maybe? Gangster?"

The angel of light takes a few steps back, then leaps off the beam to land on the church floor below with a stirring of dust around her white sneakers. At the sound of the knocking, a blade of light forms across her palm, followed by her fingers wrapping around it as she gives a glance through the dark to her partner, then back to the door.

The pair live frugly, a few backpacks full of granola bars and ramen, along with bottles of water. Only one of them has to eat after all.

Tyrone Johnson has posed:
Dinnertime. It means most of the homeless are at the local kitchen to take advantage of a free hot meal and short respite from the winter weather. To a man who is barely tangible, things like food and cold lose their meaning. It leaves Cloak with a lot of extra time when bodily demands are null and one of those is keeping watch.

"Around here? Probably the last one." He says dryly towards Dagger. "Cops don't get paid enough to come here. Feds get paid too much to come here. And they're too well dressed to be looking for a documentary spot."

Dark eyes squint down at the approaching figures before he rises up to follow after Tandy, though he remains mostly in the shadows. "They coming for a fight, then they better 'ave brought a change of clothes. Those are nice suits."

Sebastian Shaw has posed:
Sebastian Shaw is alone as he stands, waiting outside the church. His driver has gotten back into the car, and seems to be waiting for him to return. He waits a few moments, and then knocks again. Louder. Loud ominous booms against the door. And then he calls, "I know you two are in there. If you want MORE attention brought to your place, you can leave me standing out on your step. Or, you can let me in."

He pulls out his phone, and then taps a couple of buttons. Might as well do some business while he waits, "Ms. Yang? Yes, sorry to bother you so early. About those..martial artists I was looking to hire? Their services will no longer be necessary, I will be going with another contractor. Yes...yes..it is a shame. Next time!" He hangs up the phone and then looks expectantly at the door, as if trying to will it open.

Tandy Bowen has posed:
Giving a side glance over to Cloak, Tandy furrows her brows, then heads towards the large door. As she hefts up the beam that is pushed against it, she nudges it open to stare at the man in their doorway. The young woman is in her white leotard with a black hoodie over her and halfway zipped up.

The dagger in her palm continues to blaze brightly like a star as she narrows her eyes. "Who are you and what do you want?"

There is a cold tone in her voice, suspicious as well.

Tyrone Johnson has posed:
"This look like private property to you?" Cloak says from where he lurks near the broken wall under the discolored square that may have one been a station of the cross. "Ain't even a roof. Nothing here stopping you. Surprised that door didn't fall off the hinges."

He steps in closer behind Tandy so that he can get a better look at the man on the other side of the doorway. The severe, scowling expression of the robed man echoes his companion's question. It's clear neither of them have much in the way of trust to spare, let alone hospitality.

Sebastian Shaw has posed:
Sebastian Shaw looks down at the dagger pointed at him, and hmms, "Well, you've confirmed all of the rumors I've heard," he says, before he puts his finger on the tip of the bright light, and then slowly guides it away from pointing at his vital organs. "Please, some hospitality will not go amiss, I mean you no harm." Shaw's eyes take a few moments looking at the young woman who addressed him first, and then he turns his gaze to the young man, taking the pair in.

"I am Sebastian Shaw, CEO of Shaw Industries, please. I have information that I think you will find...useful." He does not wait for an invitation though, as he tries to sidestep Dagger and glide between her and Cloak, moving into the church proper. The man carries himself with an air of confidence, like even in the run down church he BELONGS there.

Tandy Bowen has posed:
"The rumors?" Tandy's brows furrow into lines of worry as the man steps past her and into their sanctuary. She gives a glance to the car on the street, then shoves the door shut with a thump before she turns around to face the man.

"Okay, Sebastian Shaw .. what information do you have that you think we'd want?" She folds her arms over her chest, the blade still sticking straight out of her hand as it hums with the powr of her lightforce. She casts a wary glance towards Cloak before she looks back to the intruder.

Tyrone Johnson has posed:
When Shaw puts a finger to the dagger of light, Cloak's eyes narrow. Suspicion? Cautious? Interest? It's hard to pinpoint given there's not a lot of him to see to judge body language.

"Thanks for the tip. If corp know we're here, then others will." And coming from Cloak, that sounds like an intention to find another place to lay low. Never does the man stray far from Tandy's side. The young woman doesn't even have space enough to cast her own shadow, even with her substantial light. Cloak is always in its place, even as she moves.

"First question." He interjects. "What's the cost?"

Sebastian Shaw has posed:
A few steps into the sanctuary and Shaw turns around to look back at the teenage duo. "Yes, rumors. And, don't worry, I am...a special case when it comes to corporations. You've got a few more weeks before, Stark Industries or Roxxon or A.I.M. figure out what is going on." He looks at the bags, and then back to the pair, "I am not here to sell anything either. I come bringing gifts." He reaches into a pocket, and pulls out a tablet, which he sets on the altar, and then walks away from it.

He then replies to Dagger's original question, "The sort of information vigilantes who keep attacking drug gangs might be interested in. Timetables, locations of importation. Groups that you might monitor...other illicit activities that might pique your interest." He motions to the tablet, "You can find it all there." And, to be sure, there is a lot of data on that tablet concerning the movement of drugs and trafficked people into -- and out of -- NYC.

Tandy Bowen has posed:
Glancing to the tablet, then back to him, Tandy continues to frown in thought as she reaches up to rub at the side of her brow with her free hand. The dagger disappears from her palm on the other as she heads to the device to pick it up. "So, you're the CEO of a huge corporation and you happen to have a lot of data on gangs, huh? What type of business do you run?"

She steps back into Cloak's shadow as she holds the device, tapping it on and scrolling through the screen. She always keeps herself just one step away from ducking into his darkness. "So, what do you get out of this?"

Tyrone Johnson has posed:
"Nothin' in this world is free." Cloak all but growls, as wary as a street dog faced with a dead end alleyway. "You pay now, or you pay later. Money, blackmail, favors, blood, souls. Hell, maybe a bit of all of it."

He tips his head towards Tandy as he remains ever within reach, looking only with brief glances towards the tablet in her hands. "So what she said. What does a rich man get out of giving people like us a map? I saw those movies as a kid. Hire the help to clear the way to the treasure room. Then once they're rotting in the last snake pit, the rich man gets the treasure."

Sebastian Shaw has posed:
"A very successful one, thank you." Shaw replies to Dagger, instantly. "And, one thing you discover when you are successful is that a lot of doors open for you. Things, things you've never dreamed of, never wanted in your life, are at your fingertips. Instantly. Ask for it, and it's there. Money is no longer a lifeline, but a tool to be used to overcome whatever irritants you face in life."

He makes no move towards Cloak and Dagger, rather instead moving away to sit on a pew. "You also discover that, somewhere, you sell your soul to convenience, to chasing that almighty dollar. That the company you have built is built on the shoulders of men, and that men are corrupt." He looks over at the pair, "I provide these presents to you as my form of pennance for...things I have allowed to happen, wittingly or otherwise, under my watch."

Tandy Bowen has posed:
"Money was the irritant in life that I ran away from. I didn't come from squalor or living in the dirt of an old church. I came from wealth. Private tutors. I owned horses. I lived in a manor. Famous mother, loser father. Money is the reason why people are hurting now in these streets. Why this city is poisoned by the cancer in her veins. The drugs. The addictions. All to make someone fat and comfortable." Tandy says as she brushes her hand along Cloak's robe, pulling some of it around her.

"Most of the time those men who are the most comfortable wear a suit, because they profit off those addictions and they dangle breadcrumbs to starving dogs. Give them just enough to get theirs, but not enough to get that empire they dream about." Her lips press together firmly. "So, if I hear you right, you're that comfortable man in a suit, who suddenly feels bad for creating a mess and you want us to clean it up so that you feel better about it?"

Her eyes narrow some at him.

Tyrone Johnson has posed:
"We ain't God, to give you absolution for your sins. Money pays for dirty judges, not forgiveness." Cloak says, as his namesake garment rustles like the subtle sound of a snake's scales as there's the impression of his arms crossing in front of his chest. The edge of the cloak itself remains in Tandy's hand, as quiet in her grip as silk. "We just point them in the right direction, while showing them the cost of keeping down the road they're on."

"So cut the crap. You hire someone to trim the rotting fat of your company so that you can sleep a little better and seal up some holes, is that it? Or you find our your mission giving shoes to little orphan kids in Africa is funding the local militia instead?"

Sebastian Shaw has posed:
"Who knew the kids these days were so jaded?" Shaw asks, before he sighs quiestly and stands, "I am not oblivious. Clearly, words will not sway you to my cause. Perhaps I should have gone with my original idea and simply left a note taped to your door, but, I figured the pair of you were different than most of the two bit heroes that flit around in tights and leotards."

He motions towards the tablet, "Actions speak louder than words I have long been told. This is my action: you have access there to a continually updated database of criminal activity here in New York City. You can act on it if you want, you can investigate it, treat it like a poison pill, do what you wish. I can only give you the tools to fight against the addiction and pain you see in the world."

He starts to walk to the door, before he stops and turns back to Dagger, "You do misunderstand me. I sleep just fine at night, I know that my life has been a successful one, that the work I have done has benefitted more than it has harmed, but I also know I am but one small cog in a society. This is my attempt to assist you in using your abilities for the betterment of our shared community."

Tandy Bowen has posed:
"We aren't heroes." Tandy says as she puts the tablet back down after a quick glossing over it. The data looks solid. She recognizes even some names that they were after. "We aren't even role models. This is our mission. It is all that we have left in this world."

She leans back in against Cloak's body that is tucked away within the shadows, seeking her partner out as she spends a bit of light to satiate any rage or hunger that he has. "You have to understand, we don't trust suits and ties, because they're the ones who did this to us in the first place. Turned us into this. We'll look at your .. stuff .. and see how things pan out. Maybe next time you visit, you can bring a charger for it."

Obviously, they lack things such as running water and electricity.

"Thanks." A flat thanks. There is concern and caution in her eyes before she glances up at Cloak's face to gauge his expression.

Tyrone Johnson has posed:
Heroes. The word brings a noisy scoff from Cloak.

"Notes get thrown in the burn bin. Paper is worth more than promises around here. Only one of those keeps people warm on the regular." Remarks the shadowman, who seems indifferent to Shaw staying or going once he's spoken his bit. "Don't matter to us where on the ladder you sit, just who you fall on when you inevitably drop off it. We'll check your info. If it's good, maybe we'll use it. If now, bit of tech like that'll get someone a nice coat who needs it."

And that seems to be the extent of Cloak's interest for the time being as he turns his glare away from Shaw. One arm reaches out to wrap Tandy fully within the folds of the cloak, and with a hiss of cold air the two are gone.

Shaw can see himself out.