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xp_logsDoug presents information to each gang lord in order to convince them to meet.
"Filthy" Frankie wasn't much of a hands on guy. He had lieutenants assigned to all his dealings, it helped keep his image tough and mean. He was both tough and mean in person, as well, but something was often lost in translation. People tended to be distracted by the various unpleasant smells he emitted and it only prevented him from running his plans as quickly as he wanted to. When he heard about a mutant who had managed to pull information from their heavily coded communications, however, he knew this meeting would have to be in person. There were things that people in his own organization couldn't hear about, particularly with the offer on that table of a possible plan to deal with an encroaching threat. He pressed his lips tight together as the snoop was escorted in and left in front of his desk. "This plan had better be very good, for your sake." The overpowering smell of sulfur managed to be very menacing, though in no way intentional.
"Judge for yourself," Doug told Frankie, negligently tossing an envelope onto the gang lord's desk. He managed to look like he was lounging standing up, a rather impressive feat of body language intended to imply that the number of offensive powers and guns surrounding him didn't bother him at all.
Zapruder leaned back in his chair, taking the envelope, carefully opening it, and perusing the contents. "So, that shaky bitch finally found someone dumb enough to roll over for him. It was only a matter of time." The sticky scent of syrup filled the air as the gang lord laughed. "So what? We should meet over drinks and split up my territory? I don't think so. Not unless..." He trailed off in thought for a moment.
"Unless?" Doug prompted, a wry raise to his eyebrow. He knew the information Zapruder was reading backwards and forwards, and it had been couched specifically to appeal to the gang lord's vanity and greed.
"So that's how you think I could get him out of the way, is it?" Zapruder thought for a long moment, clinching and relaxing his jaw a few times. "That could work." He looked across the table to his new informant. "You'd better make sure it does."
-----
A heavily scarred man threw open the doors to "Shaky" Kaufman's suite, Doug in tow. "This is the guy. He said he has a plan on how we can make our move." The lieutenant was hands on, pushing Doug down into a chair in front of Kaufman, who turned around from looking out of his window over the city. "Then we'd better hear it." His brevity was eerie, as if the boss was always attempting to keep all his emotions subdued. "And we'd better hear what our business is to you, too."
Body language. In this situation, like with predators, it was essential to not show weakness. Doug shrugged his shoulders forward, sitting comfortably in the chair. "My business is not wanting to see a running fight with guns and mutant powers in the streets of New York," he said simply.
The heavy oak desk creaked as Kaufman slammed his fists on his desk and leaned forward, up on his feet and closer to Doug. "It doesn't make any difference what you want. You're nothing! And if you're little plan doesn't get us what we want better then killing everyone in our way it won't be anything to us either." Why he was called "Shaky" was clear, a quivering finger tapped his desk, demanding the information.
Doug leaned forward and placed a bulging envelope on the other man's desk, squaring it precisely with the corners before leaning back. "I think you'll find everything in order there."
"I'll tell you what I'll find!" The large, scarred man had long since stepped over to Kaufman's side of the desk. The mobster turned quickly, slamming a punch into the man's gut that could be felt through the room as the force dissipated. He took a deep breath, smoothed back his hair, and sat. His lieutenant didn't budge at any point. "Now, lets see." He snatched the envelope up off the desk, despite how carefully it was placed.
Doug waited patiently, the information Shaky was reading firmly in his head. Just like the envelope he'd supplied to Zapruder, the contents of Kaufman's envelope had been put together to appeal to the gang lord's baser instincts, and get him to overreach himself.
"Looks like you're smarter than stepping in here made you seem." It didn't sound like much of a compliment coming from Kaufman. "I'll get to see if this works or not. You'll only see if it does."
"Filthy" Frankie wasn't much of a hands on guy. He had lieutenants assigned to all his dealings, it helped keep his image tough and mean. He was both tough and mean in person, as well, but something was often lost in translation. People tended to be distracted by the various unpleasant smells he emitted and it only prevented him from running his plans as quickly as he wanted to. When he heard about a mutant who had managed to pull information from their heavily coded communications, however, he knew this meeting would have to be in person. There were things that people in his own organization couldn't hear about, particularly with the offer on that table of a possible plan to deal with an encroaching threat. He pressed his lips tight together as the snoop was escorted in and left in front of his desk. "This plan had better be very good, for your sake." The overpowering smell of sulfur managed to be very menacing, though in no way intentional.
"Judge for yourself," Doug told Frankie, negligently tossing an envelope onto the gang lord's desk. He managed to look like he was lounging standing up, a rather impressive feat of body language intended to imply that the number of offensive powers and guns surrounding him didn't bother him at all.
Zapruder leaned back in his chair, taking the envelope, carefully opening it, and perusing the contents. "So, that shaky bitch finally found someone dumb enough to roll over for him. It was only a matter of time." The sticky scent of syrup filled the air as the gang lord laughed. "So what? We should meet over drinks and split up my territory? I don't think so. Not unless..." He trailed off in thought for a moment.
"Unless?" Doug prompted, a wry raise to his eyebrow. He knew the information Zapruder was reading backwards and forwards, and it had been couched specifically to appeal to the gang lord's vanity and greed.
"So that's how you think I could get him out of the way, is it?" Zapruder thought for a long moment, clinching and relaxing his jaw a few times. "That could work." He looked across the table to his new informant. "You'd better make sure it does."
-----
A heavily scarred man threw open the doors to "Shaky" Kaufman's suite, Doug in tow. "This is the guy. He said he has a plan on how we can make our move." The lieutenant was hands on, pushing Doug down into a chair in front of Kaufman, who turned around from looking out of his window over the city. "Then we'd better hear it." His brevity was eerie, as if the boss was always attempting to keep all his emotions subdued. "And we'd better hear what our business is to you, too."
Body language. In this situation, like with predators, it was essential to not show weakness. Doug shrugged his shoulders forward, sitting comfortably in the chair. "My business is not wanting to see a running fight with guns and mutant powers in the streets of New York," he said simply.
The heavy oak desk creaked as Kaufman slammed his fists on his desk and leaned forward, up on his feet and closer to Doug. "It doesn't make any difference what you want. You're nothing! And if you're little plan doesn't get us what we want better then killing everyone in our way it won't be anything to us either." Why he was called "Shaky" was clear, a quivering finger tapped his desk, demanding the information.
Doug leaned forward and placed a bulging envelope on the other man's desk, squaring it precisely with the corners before leaning back. "I think you'll find everything in order there."
"I'll tell you what I'll find!" The large, scarred man had long since stepped over to Kaufman's side of the desk. The mobster turned quickly, slamming a punch into the man's gut that could be felt through the room as the force dissipated. He took a deep breath, smoothed back his hair, and sat. His lieutenant didn't budge at any point. "Now, lets see." He snatched the envelope up off the desk, despite how carefully it was placed.
Doug waited patiently, the information Shaky was reading firmly in his head. Just like the envelope he'd supplied to Zapruder, the contents of Kaufman's envelope had been put together to appeal to the gang lord's baser instincts, and get him to overreach himself.
"Looks like you're smarter than stepping in here made you seem." It didn't sound like much of a compliment coming from Kaufman. "I'll get to see if this works or not. You'll only see if it does."
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