Window shopping
Who: Eric and OPEN!
Where: Chinatown
When: Late morning
He was looking forward to the weekend, to some time where plans could brew and form, where there'd be no bloodshed stemming from his hands. And given that most people had that knowledge every day? Just having it today was enough to make Eric smile. It was getting harder to keep up with the burden of what he'd done; most of the time he was fine, composed enough to see the hours pass by, but sometimes? Sometimes it cracked as he remembered pulling the innards from the man he'd killed, or outright fractured when Eric considered just how easily the methodical approach had come to him.
He could be a monster if he chose, an utter demon who would terrorize his enemies and the city surrounding them. If he chose to be. But Eric didn't want that, he only wanted the purpose and focus that Eily's vendetta had brought back to his life... he just wasn't so sure the two could be mutually exclusive. At least today was looking up, though, even if he was leveraging it towards future plans.
Eric had been buzzing through the open-air markets of Chinatown for an hour now, browsing the stalls to take in the fresh produce and meats, the trinkets of jade and brass, the paintings and sculptures. It was fascinating how enclosed this little culture was from the rest of the city, and he knew that he stood out sharply in it. Eric was a giant compared to most of the people here, even seated at a table outside a small restaurant with a pot of tea in front of him, he was looming.
But he had to do it if he wanted a chance to watch up the block between sips of tea and glances at his paper, because from here Eric could see the Kitten Club. And come Monday, he was going to need all the strategies he could formulate from now to then. Really, as nice as today was? Monday was going to be gorgeous.
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He knew better but Max couldn't resist stepping out that beautiful morning to wander by the Kitten, just to see what was going on. Amateur autopsies had been on his mind since his meeting with December and the opportunity to exercise his skills on the high level Syndicate man was too good to resist. Fuzz on his chin, a pageboy on his head and a worn, blue cotton shirt and jeans, chomping on his cigarette gave him a youthful appearance that no one would particularly notice, even if he was meandering near Chinatown. What could he say? He had a fondness for dumplings.
Suspenders batting against his knees, Max made his way past, pausing to watch the police officers exit the club with idle curiosity when the large man sitting outside a little cafe caught his eye and he was sure that he'd been spotted as well. "Nice ta see I ain't the only one who likes the asians," he greeted the man, Boston accent thick in his voice and grin on his face as he tipped his cap to the man. The performance was flawless and Max sounded like he'd just gotten off the train. "Didn't have places like this back home."
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"I wouldn't say it's a matter of like or dislike," Eric replied evenly, not skipping a beat as he flipped pages in his copy of the Echo and glanced up to get a look at Max. Some new arrival in the city, which wasn't exactly any kind of surprise. They flooded in daily, it seemed, and Max wasn't the first of his sort Eric had met.
Second generation Irish?, he wondered as he tapped a cigarette from his pack and lit up. "I'm ambivalent to the people, same as they are to me," he explained. "But they've got some damned curious markets 'round here. You new to the city, I'm wagering?"
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Ambivalent Max mouthed the word slowly, as if he'd never heard the word before. "Yessir, I am," Max nodded. "Came to help my auntie out since her man went off to war," he said proudly. "Don't got any places like this back home." He looked around, as if the whole place was new, thinking that this derailment really fucked over his quest for dumplings. "But my manners, well, my ma would whip me if she saw." He stuck out his hand proudly. "Marty O'Callahan." His 'r' rolled into an h instead, bastardizing the irish accent even more.
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Eric nodded at the introduction, nudging a chair away from his table with one foot. "Have a seat if you're inclined, Marty," he offered, folding his paper shut for the moment. "Eric Martens, nice to meet you." He shook firmly, always testing others in little ways, right now in the strength of Max's grip. Eric sat back when he released, plucking his cigarette from his lips and exhaling a cloud of smoke, then raising a hand at a passing server to signal for a second cup to be brought over.
"I'll just have to hope it's a universal signal for 'two cups, please'," he joked dryly, refilling his own cup. "What branch does your uncle serve with?"
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"Aw, thanks sir," Max grinned and took the seat, letting a wide-eyed wonder take over as if he'd never seen it all before. There was something entertaining in pulling strings like this, amusing in all its childishness. Like a game. What branch... "16th division of the first infantry. I think they call it The Fighting First?" He didn't sound so sure, just a name he'd heard time and before and was hoping to have right.
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Eric nodded in recognition of that, smiling a touch and waiting for the cup to be brought over. "The First's a good deployment, dangerous though. Your uncle's got my prayers," he offered, pouring Max a cup and refilling his own. He didn't plan on saying a prayer for the man, Eric didn't do that, but he hoped the fictitious uncle would pass the test of worth that war put all men to. "So, you found work yet?"
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"My aunt's brother is a grocer. Said he had an opening for me. Good hours. Good pay." He looked at the cup, lifting it to sniff at it curiously, like he'd never had chinese tea before, then took a careful sip. "Hoooot," he mouthed, putting it down and opening and closing his mouth a bit. Burning one's tongue on purpose was never fun.
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Aunt's brother? His uncle? The younger guy had odd phrasing, sure, but Eric would chalk it up to Boston. Maybe they were a little more simple out there, right? Chuckling over the edge of his cup, Eric took a small sip before he spoke again. "Well, some friendly advice for you? Save that pay up, don't get tempted to live it up after dark in this city. It's been a powderkeg lately, except it's blowing up a touch too regular for my liking."