7900/Strigid Interview

Strigid Interview
Date of Scene:	20 September 2021
Location:	Iceberg Lounge
Synopsis:	In which the Mayor of Gotham City crosses words with an activist in an impromptu interview.
Cast of Characters:	Lincoln March, Meggan Puceanu

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Lincoln March has posed:
     It's a lovely day in the city of Gotham, as lovely as a day in gotham can get actually. The sun is shining through the smog, the birds are singing in the trees instead of coughing their lungs up, and the temperature is middling at worst with a light breeze carrying through the trees.

     Inside the iceberg things are lively enough with lovingly picked music carrying on through the airwaves. It's a soft and steady old tune giving the whole place that air of upper crust refinement that it's sometimes missing.

     Everywhere one looks people are gathered to enjoy the evening festivities, young, old, criminal and otherwise. It looks like another small event is going on at the iceberg but someone didn't rent the place out to make it any sort of private.

     It's another fundraiser for the Narrows revitalization project and a cavalcade of who's who is in attendance along with surprisingly enough the everyman off the street who found themselves wanting to attend and donate a few spare dollars to the cause.

     It's all rather amicable and peaceful as the banners hang in varying directions proclaiming the little event, the DJ playing those soft and respectable tunes through the airwaves giving the people something to dance to.

     Lincoln is dressed in a simple looking charcoal suit and red tie with his hair freshly cut for the event. He's currently talking with Mr Rico Burgos of the Burgos family a man with a relatively small fortune as far as gothamite standards go.

     Rico is a simple man dressed in a cheap thrift store suit and a stetson hat that likely cost more than his entire outfit to put together. The two are laughing it up having a rather amicable discussion about the new chain of gas stations that Mr.Burgos had expanded into in Gotham. One look at Rico shows the man looks like he's on top of the world talking to Mayor March, even if he is one of the poorest rich folks here at the iceberg.

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
Smog, just what every city needs. The Clean Air Act and Californian standards don't apply to a place almost wiped off the grid ten years ago. Wonder if they'll have a 'Yay We Survived' parade that categorically ends badly.

It wouldn't matter if the place were under atomic fallout for one of the native denizens. She can breathe that as easily as a sooty concoction of chemicals on the air. A hand to one of the hardy trees gives it a little boost as she passes by. Places to be, things to do, people to see. But the tree still deserves as hello as it prepares for a long winter sleep, trapped here in Jersey.

<<I'd free you if I could. Dream of green fields and warm sun.>> The words and feelings pass from blonde Englishwoman to the old oak, and then she carries on.

The Narrows revitalization hasn't gone entirely unnoticed by university students, residents, or the local sorts. For once Meggan hasn't found a one-time job working the bar. Besides, it's the Iceberg Lounge. It takes a certain amount of connections and social calibre to get in there even for a night, and payroll is a thing!

But on a lark, she heads in, dressed well enough in a green dress to bypass the expected appearances. Having the British accent helps, too. For some reason, people warm to it. Respectable music flutters over the airwaves and she smiles, offering a wave to the bouncers. Her ID shows her as a Gotham resident, therefore that counts for something. Into the place of refinement and grace where a mayoral candidate would thrive in, industry seethes with, and she utterly wouldn't normally belong.

But an environmental activist in this age of transformation and youth voting *is* a small political force unto themselves. Or they can be. It's all rather amiable indeed as she takes in her surroundings. It takes a few minutes of going with the flow to circulate, smiling and speaking briefly with a few capitalists, investors, someone whose son inexplicably wants an internship at city hall. "And of course he's going to thrive there, if I can just get Mr. March to..." drones on the parent.

"I'm sure he will be delighted." Pretty smile, bright pale green eyes, a finger wiggle. "But the man of the hour surely has a lot to talk about."

Lincoln March has posed:
     Lincoln laughs and smiles and pats the older man on the back offering words of encouragement and friendly advice the best that he can. It's clear with a single look that March is in his element in this place and he's taken to swimming from one group of fish to the next making certain to improve their day just that little bit.

     A happy donor is a generous donor after all, and it's no wonder that things seem to be running so smoothly at this little get together. "I'll level with you Rico, it wouldn't matter if you donated one dollar or a million. I still appreciate every dime that can go towards helping bring The Narrows back from the brink of destruction." He pauses for a moment bringing his glass of whiskey up to his mouth before something catches his attention and he lowers it just mere inches from his mouth.

     He'd been nursing that one cup of whiskey the entire evening, never once taking even a sip from it as something always seemed to catch his attention at the last second before he could imbibe the alcohol, some new conversation, some new-comer into the bar. It's a wonder he could get any liquor into his system with so many distractions. Or perhaps that was the point?

     Lincoln breaks off from Rico making his way to an empty table. The entire way along he pats backs, shakes hands and just genuinely seems to make people feel like they're the most important person in the entire building just with a smile and a kind word from the heart.

     He slides his way into the booth setting his drink down at the table with a light smile as his positioning relaxes. He looks up towards the chandeliers in the iceberg a light smile crossing his face at the turnout.

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
There's an old proverb: happiness is not a fish you can catch. It does happen to be one you can lure or create ideal conditions to grow though.

Meggan swims in a bigger pool than maybe she is used to. Here, donors from the larger corporations and mid-tier families gather. There, important people scythe through drinks and conversation fearlessly. They can be impressive, their clout ranked up by donations and figures that would make a girl's eyes water.

Rico's happiness radiates to her. It carries a stamp as loud as a red wax seal, and for a moment, she flicks her gaze after the passing gas station owner. No real judgment there, only acknowledgment, while leaving behind Mr. Intern's Dad to further look at schmoozing for opportunities to push the family fortune further and maybe get some eye candy out of the deal. The trophy wife and the big house are already ticked off.

The white-blonde fan of her hair swaying around her shoulders, she looks for said man of the hour. An empty table, a cut path like a parting of the Red Sea are triggers enough. On that note, she falls inward, letting social gravity do the rest.

"You look awfully chuffed by the turnout. On a Monday afternoon no less," she offers. British accent against a crowd? It'll cut clean through after waiting its turn. "Best watch out, looks like one of the Gotham Bank upper crust might be measuring up how fast he can get here." That aside is rimmed in amusement, aimed at the mayor. She doesn't fall into a booth, hardly that, merely ghosting fairly close to conversational reach and easily set to go on her way. Nothing for security to worry about. What's a blonde uni student going to do?

Lincoln March has posed:
     "The way I see it, the less that is spent on the reservation of a place, the more can go to the cause in question." Lincoln offers with a smile and a light tip of his glass towards her, the glas still almost full of booze. "And Monday just so happened to be the most cost effective day to host this little get together."

     He runs his finger around the rim of the glas setting it down onto the table "Well I suppose I ought to find someone to talk to fast to make sure I don't get locked too firmly into that conversation." A bright smile is flicked her direction as he adjusts his positioning in the seat just to make himself comfortable yet respectable in his stance.

     Lincoln has put on even more muscle than the last time she saw him at the fundraiser for his campaign. The man is built like a brick house, or rather like someone who deadlifts brick houses. He's certainly still got the linebacker quality about him from his college football days with Gotham University.

     "How about a quick interview?" He offers with a friendly smile and a flicker of light in those baby blue eyes of his. "I've got the time if you do."

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
"Does the owner or manage deserve public credit for hosting this on their own quid? I'd like to think that, for such a worthy cause, they at least contemplated a discount." Meggan replies easily, her gaze shifting away from Lincoln to assess the crowd happily engaged in the socializing and being seen they came to do. The real wheeling and dealing probably takes place between their accountants and City Hall. Maybe? Mysteries run deep in Gotham.

She utters a bright laugh when he sets his glass down and considers escape strategies. "Is that an invitation or a warning for me to be on my merry way?" The inquiry proves unnecessary; he answers it himself and she glances to the table then up to him. "Why, thank you, Mr. Mayor. You can claim this to be a way to get the pulse of your constituents. I believe I qualify as the general public."

Her jade dress swings, cut to move and flow with a ready ease, a hallmark of another time. She isn't terribly different save the silvery pallor of her hair has overtaken the hallmark bright blonde, a fairer shade. Girls and their hair, it changes all the while. Or in her case, whenever she likes. Dangers of being an empath and a metamorph.

"Would you mind? Granted a fair bit of this would be on social media or through Columbia, what with." Her phone's popped onto the table in plain sight, a photograph of her and several other people squished together into the frame for a wide smile. Quite the age range there. Takes only a few strokes of a finger to bring up a note app. "Meggan Puceanu. Just Meg will do, here on the twentieth of September with the honoured mayor of Gotham City. We'd call you Lord Mayor roundabout where I'm from," she adds, warm and light. "I'm sure the topic on everyone's minds at the moment is your proposal to revitalize the Narrows. But revitalization means a lot of different things to different people. A real estate agent or a developer looks at that quite a bit differently from a nurse or a police officer, or someone who lives in historically the most deprived, crime-ridden area of Gotham. What does this proposal of yours mean for the city? Let's start with the overview, in terms that your average Gothamite is going to find meaningful to them, shall we?"

What's a soft pitch? One delivered with that smile, one that could sublimate ice in a heartbeat.

Lincoln March has posed:
     "Call me anything you'd like as long as it's not late for dinner." Lincoln offers with a light chuckle as he sets the glas to one side to focus on the interview just in time to avoid taking a sip of the contents. He settles his hands in a comfortable position as he relaxes in the chair listening to what she has to say for her introduction, a pleasant and warm smile on his face.

     "The first step to establishing any sort of renewal is starting with the most vulnerable and working our way up from there." He moves his hand in a ladder like motion. "I've a personal preference for ground up solutions to problems as opposed to the top down solutions of many of my contemporaries as such I see it starting with settling the homeless population prevalent in the sector"' He pauses for a moment moving his hand back down to table level. "Already we've established a number of outreach centers under the guard of Gotham Cities finest, but I believe that we can do even more, soup kitchens, shelters for the homeless, low cost housing opportunities to begin to disincentivize crime at a low level." He waggles his hand at the low level motioning the formation of a bar.

     He ratchets his hand up to a slightly higher level. "Next come marriage counseling services,, a focus on knitting together broken families in the narrows." He bumps his knuckles together in the middle of his chest before interlocking his fingers together. "I'm striving to cut to the heart of an issue rather than simply bringing down the hammer and providing opportunities to guide people before they become members of the criminal element."

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
"Wouldn't want to upset the household, innit?" The lightest application of a Britishism underscores that, to an American ear, Meggan isn't American at all. The lyrical fluidity of her accent weaves too much music in, making the southies of Boston seem like they're backwater bumpkins. Celtic and Welsh and Scots threads mingle, and it's a pretty sound indeed. She folds her hands together, chin resting atop them. Not the typical position for an interviewer, but then she's hardly a typical person and he is hardly the typical candidate.

"It sounds that you want to begin with helping those who already live in the Narrows. How are you prepared to deal with Gothamites who feel like you're throwing good money after bad in an area with the worst violent crime statistics in the state, if not the whole country?" she asks, tone light but focused. "Especially when those same people are concerned their neighbourhood or side of the city isn't getting attention. How do you address the inequalities of trying to shore up the Narrows' crime and poverty issues when there are brownfield sites from chemical contamination or unsafe drinking water due to aging pipes and a wastewater treatment system famous for corruption? It's got to be a hard sell when you have young families or professionals totally priced out of a market for affordable housing or seniors who must choose between food on the table, electricity or medication hearing about a major spending package aimed at gangs."

She gives him time to respond to that before continuing, inviting the questions that are already there. "Let's be clear, these aren't my opinions, Mr. March, but they are commonplace enough to be heard. Homelessness is a complex problem, absolutely. What sort of measures do propose to implement? Homelessness is often a matter of mental health crises that aren't adequately addressed and a total lack of services to help those at risk of losing secure housing. I believe it's close to twenty percent of the city is a paycheque away from having nowhere to live. I -- and the public -- would definitely like to hear what your strategy is for making sure that kind of invaluable investment happens in housing options, or at least more affordable alternatives. Since homeless shelters put a plaster -- pardon, a bandage -- on the problem instead of really addressing it. Low cost housing you said. And any plans for dealing with slumlords or tackling the generational poverty that's driving these issues?"

Lincoln March has posed:
     "That's exactly why we're using fundraising and my own personal finances rather than the cities finances for this project." Lincoln offers with a light tone. "I am a firm believer that one's money should be put right where their mouth is." He pauses for a light moment before adding. "Metaphorically speaking of course."

     "By establishing a foothold within the narrows at a base level we can begin to improve the city as a whole."

     "To put it in medical terms I'm attempting to tend to a gunshot wound before I attend to the lacerations plaguing the body of our great city" He takes a moment to lift his glass up to his mouth before a bit of something strikes him. "It's why we need bandages in the short term, to stem the blood loss while we work towards sutchering the wound."

     "Of course we'll also require transfusion, and the lacerations will require a good deal of work in their own time, but if I can stem our greatest blood loss without diverting resources away from the efforts to stem the lacerations I can see it only as a good thing."

     "One of the efforts is of course the fund raising this great event has already gained being partitioned out towards mental health efforts such as Wilworth Asylum's out patient care services, which will benefit the mentally disturbed across the city not only in the narrows."

     "These are simply the efforts already being taken as we speak." He pauses for a brief moment, setting the glass back down onto the table. "Our grand strategy involves the procurement of several abandoned structures within the narrows and the construction of several new skyscrapers in their place dedicated to affordable housing within the narrows, along with a revitalization effort to the local businesses in the region in order to see job opportunities for those unfortunate souls who have fallen on hard times, something of a workfare program."

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
"That's quite a heavy financial burden to take on." Meggan's eyes round slightly, their jade pallor distinctive. Loose hair spills around her shoulders and she watches Lincoln with interest, perhaps a little surprised and a smidge dubious, but absolutely willing to listen. "Some would say it bears the hallmarks of a prestige project rather than philanthropy. How do you respond to the cynics among us?"

The smile ticks up, lopsided. She's a Millennial, cynicism is what they do.

"You would call the Narrows situation the most significnat problem for Gotham, all in all? I think we'll all understand the gunshot analogy. Stretching that a wee bit further, what's to stop more shots coming because the locals aren't trusting of your motives or your involvement? It's unfortunate but true that the Narrows have had to look after themselves so long they probably look askance at someone claiming to come in and help."

She tucks a bit of hair behind her perfectly round ear. Totally not pointy, nope. "Disregarding the whole idea of a turf war with the local hooligans," nice way to call them criminals, "how do you see outreach working for a displaced community largely left to come up with their own solutions? Are you hoping to partner with them? Or make meaningful outreach to those who had to go it alone?"

A little circle of movement finds her hands clasped together again. "An asylum offering outpatient care services, that's impressive. I take it they'll be low cost or subsidized? Is there going to be a presence by Wilworth in the Narrows now, or will there be a need to go out and reach them in another part of the city?"

She tilts her head. "New skyscrapers? That's bound to be, what, three, four years for construction? And crews are willing to come in? Quite a lofty goal if so, considering the rampant gunfights and such. I'd like to know if you intend to redevelop any of the land with an eye to the global climate emergency we are facing, too. Are there places in your plans for more community gardens, parks, and green spaces? In particular communities that're traditionally underserved usually lack these amenities. Safe place spaces, community gathering spaces. It's hard to take your kid outside when the local park's been all beat up and the equipment pillaged or tagged, right?"

Lincoln March has posed:
     "I think that once you take everything into consideration that the narrows situation is affecting the most sectors of the city overall." He lowers his hands down in front of himself. "I believe that if we can just solve the narrows by offering a gentle hand towards them in conciliation it will make future projects all the easier." He pauses for a moment. "No matter what I or any of us do with fundraising and building and even mental help assistance we can't manage this project without the help of people on the ground level." He offers his hand out physically towards the front of himself

     "Wilworth will be providing outpatient care through a new facility which we expect to see open in the later half of twenty twenty two providing the first outpatient care facility run through the asylum subsidized by generous donations from the local community." He adds in response to her later question. He brings his hand back towards himself. "We've seen how well outpatient care can work in cities like New York, I see no reason we can't make similar efforts in gotham."

     "A part of the revitalization effort is going to go towards the installation of several new parks and gardens dedicated to pristine members of the community who are unfortunately no longer with us. I believe that if we wish to save a cities body we must also tend to its soul as it were, and greenery I feel at least can add a bit of a tender touch to the soul of a city."

Meggan Puceanu has posed:
A playful smile follows and Meggan palms her phone, lightly drawing it back to her. "I think you have given a lot for others to think about and consider what Gotham is going to look like in the future. We have a gaggle of interests and many different voices," she says. "But they'll certainly have a say and be certain to make sure you know in every way."

With that bonny bright smile, she pops up and then offers, "Thank you for speaking with me. I'd like to continue this, but without monopolising your time. You have been more than generous with me, Mr. Mayor, and I appreciate that! Thank you!"