Owner	Pose
Sofia Maroni	Stepping on board the Lady Lovelace is like stepping through a doorway into the past. The refurbished liner has become essentially a floating hotel, and hosts some of the more eclectic parties for Gotham's rich and famous. Tonight's setting goes back to the 1930's, and the guests have all turned out in appropriate attire. There is a small jazz combo singing in the lounge, tuxedos included. The singer tonight is billed as Sofia Marion, and she's covering the full range of pre-war hits. The blonde wears her hair up with long earrings that nearly brush her shoulders. The black velvet gown is both long and backless, shifting in the light as she moves.
Wilson Fisk	Word has reached Wilson Fisk of a curious singer - the voice of an angel, the looks of goddess, and a name that bears a striking similarity to a family whose face she also seems to resemble. A curious combination, enough to draw the Kingpin of Crime from his hometown of New York to the nearby city of Gotham to attend to one of her shows. Arriving in style, the Wilson Fisk makes his way onto the vessel on his own, eschewing any sort of escort. Even in Gotham, he is a known figure, and even if it were not for his reputation, his size alone would give most pause about bothering him. Moving fluidly despite his girth, he presents a commanding presence as he makes his way into the venue. Dressed in a white tuxedo with black pants, evocative of Humphrey Bogart's from Casablanca, it is accented with a simple white bowtie and a purple pocket square. His gaze moves among those that are gathered, taking in the sights of the other patrons and guests, as he awaits the performance of the headliner with eager anticipation.
Sofia Maroni	Sofia Maroni moves like one of the greats of the period... Ella Fitzgerald, Billie Holliday, Josephine Baker... cradling the mic like a lover. But her singing is extraordinary. The blues are low and sultry, almost adding her own smoke to the room. When the large, unmistakeable form of Mr. Fisk makes his way into the room, a new song starts up. While Mack the Knife was covered by many artists of the day, the version that Sofia sings is much closer to Frank Sinatra or Bobby Darin than any of the jazz ladies. And as the song builds she shows that she's definitely got the pipes for it.
Wilson Fisk	A slow smile crosses over Wilson Fisk as Sofia's performance takes on that Rat Pack quality. He was always a fan of the classics, and to hear it done justice in today's era is the sort of thing that strikes him as impressive. She captures his eyes, not just with her voice, but with the way she commands attention. Her poise. Her confidence. Her beauty, of course. So much so that he stands rapt in attention for the duration of her song, an island forcing the other patrons to navigate around. It is not until the song completes that he returns to motion, seeking out a more appropriate place to sit and observe the show. A seat as close to the front as he can get. Which is, of course, the closest, after a brief 'negotiation' with the prior occupant - a significant look, and the seat is claimed by the Kingpin. He settles into to watch Sofia, careful to insure that nothing actually disturbs her performance. Respectful of the artistry on display.
Sofia Maroni	"Now that Mack-eeeeee's... back in townnnnnnn." She builds it all the way to the end, giving a moment for the combo to play out the last tags. "Look out now Mack-ey's back!" Stepping to one side, she gestures to the combo with a warm smile, then returns to the mic. "Okay folks, we're gonna take a short break. Don't forget to tip the servers, they're the ones actually -working- for a living tonight." The blonde adds a little wink for punctuation, and a moment before the spotlight flickers she lets her gaze rest on the large man in the white tuxedo. It's just a split second, but it's long enough.
Wilson Fisk	Wilson Fisk is generally a patient man. But he is also one who has no problem making quick judgements about what he wants. He watches Sofia closely, and while he contributes mightly to the applause that she has earned, once the performance is over and the spotlight is out, he is on the move once more. He is polite enough to allow Sofia to depart the stage, but his eyes follow her as she does so, tracking her destination. And preparing himself to follow. Should that destination be accessible enough to him, of course.
Sofia Maroni	Sofia Maroni stays within view, actually, and after a few words to the band she heads just over to the bar. Easing up onto a bar stool, a smile is all it takes for the bartender to start mixing her drink. And that's when the blonde turns slowly to face the bulky man in white. Like she was expecting him. "It's a shame that smoking isn't allowed." she declares. "Otherwise you could offer a light."
Wilson Fisk	The smile that breaks out on Wilson's face is unmistakeable. "If that was truly what you wanted, I am sure we could make that happen." He draws to a stop just before her, careful not to impose upon her with his presence. He is mindful enough of that, it seems. Not so much of the others who may be standing nearby, who slide over to give both he and Sofia room at the bar. "I must confess that your performance was quite moving. It is rare to find someone these days who can pour their soul into the music the way it was meant to be. You are a rare talent." His gaze remains upon her, studious of her face, as his hand waves about casually. "I am surprised to find you in a venue such as this and not someplace a bit more...accomplished." There is a pause. "Although the atmosphere here certainly has its own appeal."
Sofia Maroni	Sofia Maroni keeps eye contact, her smile warm and more than a little playful. One leg crosses over the other, allowing the gown to part to just above the knee. "I've always enjoyed the classics, ever since I was a little girl listening to my grandfather's record player." she lies. It's not the first time she's spun this particular tale, and Sofia is quite good at it by now. "And thank you very much. I find that I enjoy the smaller venues, actually. I'm really not accustomed to large crowds." She pauses for a moment, then asks. "You aren't an agent, I hope. Because you don't really look like an agent, Mister...."
Wilson Fisk	The movement catches his eye. Then Wilson's gaze lingers upon her legs just a bit longer than may be truly necessary for a simple reaction to motion. The smile he returns is polite, seeming warm and friendly. "Spoken as if from my own heart. Except it was my grandmother's. She is the one who taught me how to dance." The question seems to surprise him. Perhaps he assumed from the way she looked at him, the way she responded, that it was to the Kingpin. Who so many know. But that it was to Wilson himself... The smile that -that- earns is priceless. "Fisk. Wilson Fisk." He extends his hand to her slowly. "And no, I am not an agent, but I do own a nightclub, and would imagine if I could pry you away from venues such as this, you would be rather well received if you were to grace us with a performance some night." If it's a performance on her part to pretend not to know him, it is good enough to convince him.
Sofia Maroni	Sofia Maroni brightens and returns the smile, reaching out to take the offered hand as well. Has she heard of him? Absolutely. Just because Sofia has tried to keep her distance from organized crime doesn't mean that she is ignorant of the the major players. "A club owner? What a coincidence." she replies, taking a few, long moments to let her gaze size him up. It takes a that long. "I think, Mister Fisk, that you and I should discuss your offer at greater length at the end of the evening." Sofia pauses, then. "You -are- prepared to make an offer, I assume."
Wilson Fisk	In keeping with the spirit of the evening, it is no mere handshake, but a carrying of her hand to his lips for a brief kiss that Wilson employs in greeting. "Among other things, yes," notes Wilson, nodding to her suggestion. "I would very much enjoy that, indeed, Ms. Marion." Of course he knows her name - it was on the sign. "And yes, I would say that you have already proven yourself quite worthy of an offer." A pause. "How generous of an offer depends upon how the rest of the evening progresses." There is a playfulness to his smile as he regards her. "I am rather looking forward to seeing more of your performance."
Sofia Maroni	Sofia Maroni knows this exchange well, lifting her wrist appropriately to receive that kiss. She even lowers her lashes a little. Withdrawing the hand, she listens to his delivery and sips her drink... a dirty martini. At last she uncrosses her legs and rises from the stool. "Well then, Mr. Fisk, let's see what we can do about working on that offer." Then the blonde returns to band to finish out the evening. Sofia doesn't disappoint. She also doesn't repeat any songs from the earlier set, and from the interaction with the band it doesn't look like there's even a standard playlist. It's like they're making up the order as they go. Afterward, Sofia makes her way over to the bar once more to wait.
Wilson Fisk	Sofia does not need to wait long. Wilson is over there within moments, clearing having anticipated this through the duration of the set. He sat with clear focus on her during the entirety of the performance. Smiling warmly if her eyes crossed over where he sat. Stealing appreciative glances over her when her eyes were elsewhere. Doing his best to remain polite. But not once did his attention wander in any way from her, even as the waiter came on occasion to see about a drink. "Ravishing," he says, by way of greeting, as he returns to the bar. "I have not seen someone command a stage like that in some time." He leans slowly forward, bringing his head closer towards hers as he lowers his voice. "Name your price, and I have no doubts you will be worth it." He is not one to waste too much time in negotiation.
Sofia Maroni	Sofia Maroni has just settled when he approaches, leaning a touch to one side while the bartender makes another martini. She doesn't pull back or flinch when he leans in and his voice lowers. A blonde brow lifts. "Let's back up a step, Mr. Fisk." she begins. "I want us both to be clear about a couple of things. For starters, I know who you are and what you represent. I know what sort of businesses you conduct and the sort of people you surround yourself with. I'm not telling you this because it bothers me, but because you should know that -I- know." "I don't deal well with bullshit." She shifts in her seat, and does the leg cross once more. "Second, it was no coincidence that you came to hear me sing tonight, was it?"
Wilson Fisk	If Wilson is wounded by the pronouncement of what she knows, he does not show it. He simply nods. "I do not hide my associations, Ms. Marion. And it pleases me to hear that it does not bother you." He takes a moment to consider her body language and posture - the confidence with which she carries herself during this conversation. "I would not presume to be anything but honest with you, I assure you." He manages to avoid looking down at the leg cross this time, his gaze fixed upon hers. He can control it, apparently. "I do not believe in coincidences, Ms. Marion. But yes, one of my associates thought that it might be of interest to me to stop by, and yes, it was for more than your ability to perform." He pauses for a moment. "If you suspect that there are underyling reasons, I suspect that you may also not wish to discuss those here." His tone remains pleasant, even if the words themselves have some implication of threat. "But rest assured, my offer is genuine, and it is confined solely to requesting your performance. I meant what I said - you are quite a talent. I may have come with curiousity, but I remain with appreciation." "If you wish to discuss details in a plainer fashion, I would be happy to offer you a ride to your destination, should you not already have one. There, perhaps, we can speak more freely."
Sofia Maroni	Sofia Maroni cants her head a little at the allusion to underlying reasons she might not wish to discuss. It's more than any verbal acknowledgement could ever convey. Her drink is served, and she sips it slowly. "Yes." she replies, perhaps in reference to the scouting by one of his associates. "And I do not doubt the integrity of your offer, Mr. Fisk. Far from it. I also expect that we can agree upon a figure and any other terms." "My apartment isn't far, but I do enjoy a drive through the park. Gotham is more pleasant in the evening when you can't see all the dirt, don't you think?"
Wilson Fisk	And likewise, Wilson replies with a nod of understanding as well. "I would hope so. I do tend to think that I am both reasonable and agreeable." A slow smile. He may say that, others not so much. "I have not spent nearly as much time in Gotham as I have in New York, but I am sure they have their similarities. And I am inclined much to agree." He takes a small step back, a pathway clearing behind the large man as he does so, and a hand is offered once more. "I would be delighted to take you on a view of the park. I have always appreciated taking the scenic route to get to any destination." His smile broadens. "Shall we, Ms. ... Marion?"