Rag-A-Muffin
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Sad to be all alone in the world...
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Post by Beatrice Harris on Jun 12, 2017 12:14:15 GMT -6
"Here you go, Ms. Pierce. 1208's your room." The greying woman handed a young girl a small key with the room number engraved on its handle. Beatrice Harris clasped her hands over the girl's, securing the key. "An extra twenty will be added to your rent if you lose this, understood." The young, doe-eyed girl nodded and headed to the elevator. She looks too innocent for this town, she sighed, glancing one last look at the perky blonde before the doors closed. Myrtle Pierce definitely had the face for the cinema, or the stage. Poor dear. If only she knew the world of show-business the way she viewed it. It truly is a shame to see such beauty be wasted on such petty forms of entertainment... she thought to herself and waited for some children to come into the lobby to reek havoc or beg for a place to stay.
Her attention was diverted to the door as a strange man had entered. "May I help you?"
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Flapper
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"No man is an island."
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Post by Dean McCoppin on Jun 12, 2017 12:22:05 GMT -6
Dean had become partcularly observant during the latest years, his eyes always fixated on something to catch some details well enough. He had to if he was to figure out anything while investigating. This time however, it was moreso to find a place to stay in other than working per se. To be honest, he had not expected the apartments to be that expensive, at least considering what he had been given, so he was in a bit of a mess to stay somewhere permanently. He would have to find a solution of some sort. For now, an hotel would have to do well enough. At least for his needs.
The owner seemed adequate enough. A middle aged woman with a stern expression, for sure, but sometimes, it was the quieter ones that proved most surprising. If she had a place for him to stay, he'd take it, even if he had to wok for it. It was a priority.
Adjusting his tie and taking off his hat in a sin of respect, Dean made his way to the reception, resting his hands on the wooden edge of the desk, a casual polite smile forming on his lips. "Evening, Miss. Are there any rooms available?" he asked, trying to sound as affable as possible, even if he felt something was off about the place. It seemed cheap enough, so he'd take what she had.
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Rag-A-Muffin
35
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Sad to be all alone in the world...
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Post by Beatrice Harris on Jun 12, 2017 13:35:54 GMT -6
She got a closer look at the man. Black hair with a cowlick, fair skin, brown eyes, a five o'clock shadow, and small goatee. Something about him intrigued her, but she couldn't exactly put her finger on it. Normally, Beatrice was good at reading people as she once did with Myrtle who must've settled in by now (her verdict was that there wasn't much underneath her pixie cut and short skirts). His face was one that looked like he had been through many of life's challenges. Perhaps, it will be revealed much later.
He then asked her if there were any available rooms. "I think I have about a handful." the owner stepped away from her desk to show a board that was nearly full of keys. "Take your pick. Do you know how long you'll be staying?"
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Flapper
99
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"No man is an island."
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Post by Dean McCoppin on Jun 12, 2017 14:07:36 GMT -6
Dean tapped his fingers on the edge of the desk, the clicking sound of his fingertips hitting the wooden surface filling the room as he eyed the keys and pointed to a number he deemed interesting, a smile placed on his lips. "I don't really know. I'm new around here and I'm trying to find some place to settle. Would you happen to know where I could find a job, as well? Money's so sparse nowadays, don't you think?" he quickly asked in response, eyeing Beatrice for a second.
The older lady seemed quite inquisitive and aware of her surroundings, which made Dean feel like he had to be careful, even if she did not seem to pose a threat. If anything, she could probably be nice to get along with if he paid his rents. How he got the money to do so would have to be something he'd have to figure out.
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Rag-A-Muffin
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Sad to be all alone in the world...
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Post by Beatrice Harris on Jun 12, 2017 15:52:14 GMT -6
He had a point. Money was sparse and a limited thing, and nowadays, people are buying whatever they want. "You aren't on credit are you?" Beatrice cocked her head and drummed on the table. "Come to think of it, I'm rather short-staffed here. You can help deliver room service to the guests and other assets of this establishment."
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Flapper
99
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"No man is an island."
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Post by Dean McCoppin on Jun 12, 2017 16:11:47 GMT -6
Well, she seemed nice enough. He was expecting her to ask him for something more in return, but she seemed to be pretty generous, taking in concern she was making his life much easier. Sometimes he had luck, didn't he? It would certainly seem that way, all things considered. "Hey, lady, so long as I can stay here; I don't mind lending a hand." he assured with a shrug, resting his arm on the edge of the desk while looking around, mild amusement in his tone as he eyed the older woman. "I'm Dean, by the way. Nice to meet you, Miss..?" he asked her name for courtesy purposes, seeing how he'd be helping her around and he would need some proximity.
The Hotel was kept in a satisfactory manner, for sure. It had a certain aura of mistery and austerity about it, as if it was hiding some secrets in it. Beatrice had a stern expression on her face, which was unlike that of a usual landlord, though he could assume people here were not the kindest in the world. He'd get to know her soon enough. She probably knew the place better than he ever would.
"By the way...about Gatsberry..." he whispered, his tone a bit more serious now, as he lowered his head and eyed Beatrice for a bit, thinking on how to put things. "Any advice about it? Everyone sees so secretive about it, and it's being hard to figure out what is going on here."
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Rag-A-Muffin
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Sad to be all alone in the world...
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Post by Beatrice Harris on Jun 12, 2017 18:34:49 GMT -6
"Harris. Beatrice Harris." she introduced herself and smiled slightly. Dean just seemed so eager to help her out in any way that he could. Perhaps he was a little too eager. Well, at least he wasn't needy like most of my inhabitants... she pondered the alternative. Boy, he should have seen how desperate a few of her girls have been when they were begging for their rents to be due for one more week!
Dean then managed to ask about the town itself. "Perhaps, we should talk about this somewhere more private." The owner of the hotel walked to a small break room near the front desk and opened the door. The room was sparsely furnished with a wooden table and a few wooden chairs. Ms. Harris turned a light on and sat down. "Sit." She smirked, waiting for him to do so. Everyone sees so secretive about it, and it's being hard to figure out what is going on here. "Good. Are you comfortable? Now, I assume you've heard of our little city's... reputation... correct?"
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Flapper
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"No man is an island."
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Post by Dean McCoppin on Jun 12, 2017 18:51:24 GMT -6
He nodded at Beatrice, following her into the room she lead him into, taking his time to memorize the details of the hotel behind him. He had his hands inside his pockets as he followed the older woman around before taking a seat, one leg folded over the other as he placed his elbow on the chair's arm, looking at Beatrice with mild curiosity, even if his expression remained nonchalant. "Alright, then. Yeah, comfortable enough." he responded with a shrug before staring at her following her question.
He was more than aware of what was going on, of course. It was the reason he had come to Gatsberry in the first place, after all. He just did not know how deep into Hell the city was, merely having slight hints to work on. Beatrice seemed to be able to clear up his doubts, though. Something about her indicated she knew more than what she let on.
"I don't know. Are you reffering to the lovely ammount of fashionable trends, the prostitution or the fact that half of America's organized crime is afraid to come here?" he asked in a rather coy manner, some playfulness in his tone before he assumed a more serious expression. "In all seriousness, I've heard rumors, so I'd like to know why everyone is so afraid of coming here."
He would benefit most if he came off as a curious traveller with no insight, so that would be the role he'd play.
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Rag-A-Muffin
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Sad to be all alone in the world...
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Post by Beatrice Harris on Jun 13, 2017 0:00:21 GMT -6
"Our reputation is most directed towards the lattermost of your guesses, Mister Dean." Beatrice stood back up to fully close the door. "My apologies. I wouldn't want any of my girls to be hearing this. You know about people these days. They don't want to hear any of sort of misfortune going on. How self-centered of them..." Every word she spoke had a hint of gall hidden in between each pause, but there was no hint whatsoever. Poison spewed from every orifice. "Pardon me. Many people are afraid to come here because of Don Korso Marcello's return and recent takeover of our little haven of the country."
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Flapper
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"No man is an island."
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Post by Dean McCoppin on Jun 13, 2017 7:58:29 GMT -6
Dean leaned back on his chair, relaxing a bit while he eyed Beatrice being seemingly extra careful about this. Nodding at her, he raised his eyebrow once he realized she was making an effort not block the walls' ears. It was never truly secure, if one were to think about it, when you stepped into the middle of a wolf pack's den. Gatsberry seemed to have become just that. "I see...doesn't the police even try to do anything? I barely saw any of them on the way here."
The younger man's observations were light but wary enough, his curiosity slightly peaked while hidden behind a somewhat innocent series of questions. After all, he needed to avoid suspicion. "I'm assuming this is a safe place then?" he asked again, smiling for a split second at Beatrice.
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Rag-A-Muffin
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Sad to be all alone in the world...
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Post by Beatrice Harris on Jun 13, 2017 17:24:48 GMT -6
He had asked her why the police hadn't done anything to stop all of this Harris wondered the same thing. How didn't her side business get discovered by some hapless fisherman at the docks or any other average joe stumbling across her and the occasional accomplice was quite odd? Perhaps the people were numb to these sorts of deeds... "Well, they're doing their best to make this a safe place, Mister Dean. However, they are not succeeding." The nonchalance of law enforcement was perfect, if she could be perfectly frank.
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Flapper
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"No man is an island."
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Post by Dean McCoppin on Jun 13, 2017 17:32:37 GMT -6
Dean tapped his fingers on the desk, eyeing Beatrice with a more serious expression now, frowning even when he heard her basic reply. She did not seem to particularly care about the state of the town and how its business was being handled. As far as she seemed to care, there didn't seem to be much of a problem. She probably wanted no one to trouble here and was content with what she was given. He did not mind that much either. At least not at that particular moment.
"Alright then, Miss Harris." he said with a calm tone, shaking his head. "Well, I'll be happy to help you in what you may need. It's the least I can do." he assured her before picking up his key and flickering it between his fingers.
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Rag-A-Muffin
35
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Sad to be all alone in the world...
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Post by Beatrice Harris on Jun 14, 2017 22:12:51 GMT -6
Beatrice rested her head on some of her bony fingers. Her other hand mimicked Dean's tapping, if only a beat late. It was the perfect image of her worldview, only a step behind the news and action in Gatsberry. She didn't mind one bit, for as long as her businesses were done, all was at peace. "Well, thank you, Mister Dean. Something tells me you will be of great assistance at the Hotel Aquila."The old woman went to the cabinet and grabbed a kettle and made herself some tea.
"Perhaps, you should make yourself at home. Get settled in your room for a bit. I'll call your room if I need anything from you, Mister Dean." She smiled softly and glanced back at the younger man. "I have plenty of things that I need to do. More business to conduct, as you will."
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Flapper
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"No man is an island."
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Post by Dean McCoppin on Jun 15, 2017 16:48:07 GMT -6
Dean nodded slowly at Beatrice, raising his eyebrow with curiosity, his hand rubbing the back of his head when Beatrice mentioned she had more things to tend to at that moment. "Yeah, of course. Anything you need, hit me up, Miss Harris." he said in a casual tone, picking up his keys and juggling them between his fingers playfully. Tipping his hat gently at Hotel Aquila's owner, the undercover agent smiled lightly before walking up the stairs for a well deserved rest.
As he walked to his chambers, he could not help but wonder what exactly Beatrice would have to ask of him. Something about her told him she would want more than simple house-keeping tasks. Whatever she needed he was sure he could do, though. There were worsegames to play, and he would definitely go into such tasks in due time.
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Rag-A-Muffin
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Sad to be all alone in the world...
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Post by Beatrice Harris on Jun 16, 2017 22:07:40 GMT -6
He finally left the room. She sighed as the door closed behind him. "Poor soul," she muttered to herself, "if only knew what he was getting himself into..." The kettle hissed and wheezed, signifying that the old woman's tea was ready. She had thought of making a few cups for some of the girls in the hotel, and for perhaps Dean himself.
In fact, there was an addition that stuck out in her mind. A petite young girl from California called Carolyn Jennings who aspired to be an actress, like most of the girls in this establishment. One thing, however, that made her much different than the other residents was that she was one of the unfortunate ones that had moved in due the death of her legal guardian. She had been residing for a few months now - in fact, she was the longest stay that she had in about a year - but her stay was overdue. Rents had come in late, and the fact that she was an orphan was just the cherry atop the parfait.
She reached for the cabinet and grabbed a bottle of honey and spooned a tablespoon's amount into the one designated for Ms. Jennings. This is a special honey, she remembered The Emperor's words about the small bottle he had given her, laced with a small sedative to assist in our business. Beatrice stirred each tea thoroughly and put a small pill on one of the plates. She dialed the number for her newest accomplice's room.
"Mister Dean, I made you and some of my girls some tea. Make sure to deliver them to the girls on the second floor. You may notice that there is a pill on one of the cups. That cup is for the girl in 205, Carolyn Jennings. She's an insomniac and it is the time for her to take her medication. Tell me when Miss Jennings is asleep and I shall tend to her room."
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