6072/THIS IS NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE

THIS IS NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE
Date of Scene:	28 April 2021
Location:	The Centinel Hotel - Mutant Town
Synopsis:	Multiple people make the wrong assumptions. Awkwardness ensues.
Cast of Characters:	Christian Frost, Michael Hannigan

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Christian Frost has posed:
     Night time around the Centinel is much like the daytime, people coming and going, but not many are checking in, luckily. Most already did that when it was Emma's turn at the helm of Bushwick's most hottest property.

  Christian had been entertaining himself at the front desk, wearing a sickening white suit, bespoke of course. Accentuating his slim form, white shirt, with an ice blue tie. No name tag on, but he didn't need one. The hotel was modern, but tastefully so, and it oozed with style. The large crystal sculpture in the lobby beckoned people inside, the winged figure reaching out in a helpful way. Most in the know, know that there is a way to get a free room here, Christian was one of those people that had that arrangement.

  The thirty-something tapped on a tablet in his hands, doing research for helping his dear sister in her endeavors. "Romeo, yes, can you make me one of my usual? Thanks, you're the best." He asked into the collar of his jacket. Being manager has its perks, and that was one of them.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Unlike Christian, Mike is dressed down. There is no pristine white to his attire. Instead he's muchmore casual. Simple black jeans, and a dark grey t-shirt that fails to cover the scar on his lower right forearm. Very laid back. Not dressed to impress by any means. However, due to the warm weather, Mike has skipped the knit cap, leaving a hairband to pull back his trademark locks.

The musician steps into the lobby, giving the slightest of glimpses to the sculpture before he shifts to the side to not block the traffic of any one who might be wanting to check in. Worn on his shoulders, a hand idly holds on to the strap of the large backpack. While he reaches the other into his pocket to fish out - A Nokia?

Where do you even find one of those now?

Christian Frost has posed:
     The footsteps from a certain security man/bartender gets Christian's attention as he looks up and sees Mike there. Curious. A Nokia phone? Oooh, weird. Well Chris knew only of one guy who still had one, and he dealt in 'party favors' "Dammit, who ordered the dealer?" He asked himself as Romeo started to approach.

  Christian doesn't interrupt the Mike before him, but his own icy blue eyes look him up and down as Romeo comes and delivers a light blue drink in a chilled martini glass for Christian. The man smiled and slid Romeo a $20 for his trouble. "Thank you, sir." He commented, taking a sip off the libation. "Ahh, just what daddy needed. Thanks so much." He offered before Romeo starts back to the bar.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Thumb sliding around the pad, pressing physical buttons down before he arrows through the contacts listing. Upon the desired value turning green with a black background, the thumb shifts once more, hitting the green phone button.

Bringing the phone to the ear, Mike finally starts to take stock in his surroundings. Eyes assess the lobby decor before looking for the ever important bar area. PRIORITIES.

Feeling like he's being watched, the musician turns his head a bit more, glancing for the source of such a feeling. Pale blue eyes lock with the icy set owned by the older looking man of similar height near the front desk. Mike doesn't look away, glance almost challenging as the side of his lips twist upwards in a bemused smirk.

The other side of the line picks up, causing for him to blink away. "Taylor? Hey, it's Mike from Shaw St-" He pauses, pulling the phone away from his ear as the squeal of a greeting filters over the earpiece. He brings the phone back, listening. "Yes. Him too. You left you-"

The phone is moved from the ear again as another ramble goes off before he brings it back again. "...Alright. Uh. No. You can get dressed. I'll just wait for you down here." The phone clicks off before he slides it into his pocket.

Christian Frost has posed:
     Christian takes another sip from the Aviation cocktail in his hand, the frosty crystal glass complimenting his family name. As soon as Mike finishes his conversation, Christian raises a hand to the musician, beckoning him closer.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Phone secure, the rocker gives a bit of a sigh before looking up. Feeling the eyes once again, he glances back over to the desk to see the beckoning motion. Not expecting Taylor to be down for a good few, he turns, walking over to the desk.

As he gets closer, he gives a relaxed smile. "Hey." Mike greets, "I'll be out of your way in a bit. Just dropping something off."

Christian Frost has posed:
     Christian's brow arches as Mike comments about the quickness of his delivery. "Oh, I'm -sure- you are." He says, raising his glass again a bit. "Tell me, is all your merch spoken for or do you have available stock?" Super casual sip. Not trying to draw unwanted attention.

  "Anywho, it's usually better to do this kinda thing in the room rather than out in the lobby. Just uhh, be discreet, know what I mean?"

  "Anyone ever tell you you look kinda like Nick Drago?"

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Mike tilts his head as Christian brings up his merchandise. Oh. That's why he was staring. "My merch?" He repeats, "Uh, well- There's probably some left over. Website would probably have more up to date information though."

He glances around before grabbing a business card off the stand and a pen from a nearby cup. What was the website address again? Oh right.

Clicking the pen open he starts to write the url, shaking his head at the mention of discretion "It kind of depends on the situation. But, there's no way I'm going up to her room alone."

The pen pauses as Christian makes a mention of who he looks like. Mike slowly lifts his head up, looking curiously to the front desk manager. His head tilts, casting a bit of shadow upon the side of the cheek. "I get that a lot... Just WHAT type of merchandise are you talking about?"

Christian Frost has posed:
     Christian takes another sip from his blue cocktail. "Oh I just love SilverRound. Their music was just...somethin'. You could totally do some look-alike things if you needed another hustle. But we both know how the biz brings in the dough. So...yeah."

  "Oh, a website? That deep web stuff never really jived with me. I like burner phones and veiled texts more." Then Mike asks further about his merchandise.

  "Hey, I wasn't gonna say nothin' but if you got some sugar, I may...wait. Are you a cop?" Seriously? What a drag. "I am sorry sir, but the kitchen is closed, the only sugar we have out would be in the bar area for coffee service."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Mike's lips part open, sound refusing to come out as he listens to Christian talk. Part of him wishing to stop the manager while the other part just wants to see how deep this rabbit hole goes. But eventually some form of feedback is required.

"Ah." He clicks the pen closed, setting it in the cup before sliding the card he was writing on into his pocket. Ok. Definitely not talking about concert merch. "I'm not a cop but- you're still barking up the wrong tree." He glances over towards the elevators. "How about we just pretend that didn't just happen?"

Christian Frost has posed:
     Who even has a Nokia phone unironically? "Uh huh, sure thing. Now you're gonna need a warrant if you are going to be performing a search of the premises. I can assure you the clientele of The Centinel are all above board and upstanding members of society."

  Christian's fingers move to tap the tablet a couple times. "For the record, your costume was perfect though. Maybe you'll get someone next time, chief."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Oh just when it looks like Mike's about to climb out of the hole, the rabbit grabs his leg and tugs. "...costume?" What costume? How can this get any weirder?

Popping out of one of the elevators a blonde woman with damp hair and a hastily put together outfit steps out. Glancing around the lobby her scan stops as her sights land upon the guys at the front desk. "Nicky!"

"Oh God." Mike murmurs.

Christian Frost has posed:
     "You know, you look the perfect real well, Nokia phone, big backpack, not completely unkempt look, very casual. Like one would assume a dealer looks." Christian comments, before taking another sip of his cocktail.

  *Pfft* The small sip of Aviation is aerosolized in seconds. "Nicky, Nick Drago? You gotta be shi-I mean. I uhh, don't suppose I can still take you up on the forgetting all about that conversation thing? I'll get a bottle of Dom delivered to you on top of it. On the house." More like out of his pocket, but being the manager of a fancy hotel has a good salary.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
The musician gives a weak nod and smiles in response to Christian's question. "Forget... what?"

"Nicky!"

Mike blinks shaking his head as a rather bubbly looking blonde songstress by the name of Taylor comes bounding over, wet hair and all. Grinning as she holds her hands out. "Oh thanks so much Nicky! You're such a lifesaver!"

The musician smiles, looking over to the woman as he slides the backpack off to hand over to Taylor. "One carry-on for you. Larry noticed it was left in the break room."

Christian Frost has posed:
     The blonde haired man behind the desk puts down his drink and just stands there, pretending to not hear a thing going on between the two, but a distinct blush comes to his face as the carry-on is handed off to Taylor. Well, bigger screw ups have been made. But not many.

  Great Chris, you'll be lucky if this guy doesn't complain to Emma about what happened.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
Taylor smiles, "Thank you again Nicky. I'm sorry I kept you waiting. You should have just come up when I said y-"

"-Oh I was fine waiting down here." Mike assures, interrupting her, giving a smile as he shifts away. Giving her a practiced smile, "It gave me a chance to catch up with a friend." He looks to the bag and then to Taylor's hair. "Maybe you should finish wi-" He pauses, gesturing to the wet hair. "Don't want to get a cold."

"Co- OH right! Well Thanks Nicky I'll see you tommorrow okay?"

Mike nods, "Right. Til tomorrow."

As Taylor starts back to the elevator, Mike turns to look to Christian. Eyes shifting to make sure the songstress is out of earshot. "Let's. Forget that happened too. Okay?"

Christian Frost has posed:
     Christian's eyes flare open a bit when dots are connected, but he tries to maintain a sense of professionalism.

  Then Taylor makes her way away back to her room. And the night manager let's put a sigh of relief. A sharp nod given to Mike before he speaks up. "Forget what? And, Drinks with the Devil kicks so much ass. C'mon, offer's still good on a bottle of crazy priced champagne. Or any other libation you want." At least the offer is made, and an olive branch extended.

Michael Hannigan has posed:
As Christian repeats what Mike said earlier, the musician gives a half smile. "Who better to talk about drinks with the devil then some wiseasses from Hell's Kitchen? I'm not really a champagne person." He replies, "But... I wouldn't mind having a look at the beer listing." The smile strengthens as he extends his hand over to Christian. "Name's Mike." He offers.

Christian Frost has posed:
    The handshake is returned, perfectly business-like. Firm, but not crushing, practiced, over years. "Christian Frost." As in Emma Frost, owner and proprietor, it even says on a little name tag on the desk. "So, yes. Let's go hit that bar. Give my sister a reason to look at the expenses and shit a brick."

  "Former addict, former business magnate, former heir to one of the largest shipping companies in the hemisphere."

Michael Hannigan has posed:
"Former delinquent, former conveience store worker. Former member of Silver Round." Mike returns in kind. A last name isn't tagged on top of the name already provided. He's certain if Christian doesn't already know but REALLY wants to he could just google or use wikipedia. Mike lowers his hand as the handshake is complete, giving a nod to the explanation, "Well, that explains the line of questions earlier. Until the Nick Drago comment, I thought you were talking about old tour merchandise."

Christian Frost has posed:
     Chris just gives a laugh as Mike explains further. "That's fair. Ohh I've got plenty from back then. Luckily I haven't gained a pound since I was seventeen. The coke helped enough there."

  "We have a massive selection of draughts for your enjoyment let me show you, while I get Romeo to make me another Aviation." And so, they were off, at least to enjoy a libation or two.