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| Enter The Shego |
| (2013-01-08 - 2013-01-08) |
| A new arrival appears in Traverse Town. Mercade Alexander tries to get the skinny and finds out that this one bites. |
| Mercade Alexander | The Hotel is a nice place, as far as hotels go. Mercade can't argue with it, but he is looking forward to getting the TDA moved to another location now that most of the refugees from Manhattan are beginning to spread into Hearts Intertwined shelters and other worlds. Right now, Mercade is down in the lobby, looking over the populace there with a glance while he heads over to the job board. It's time for him to do something to make rent again. He should totally do something about that. He really hates trying to hunt Heartless for money. Last time he did, he almost got eaten by a huge multidimensional eldtirch horror. That's happening with entirely too high of a regularity these days. So as it stands, he stands there looking over the available jobs, rubbing his chin as he cradles a manila folder under his arm that contains the latest paperwork and research documents he's been working on. |
| Shego | It was a nice hotel. It really was. And the whole Heartless prowling around thing? Eh. She could deal. The 'she' in question was Shego. Ever since all the portals opened up, and whole other worlds were, essentially, opened for business, Shego had been loving it. Hundreds of worlds means hundreds of new opprotunities to make money, new challenges, and hey - who didn't want to explore the universe while they were still young? So whenever she went through Traverse Town, she tended to do a layover here. Hefting a suitcase up, Shego was in her 'battle' outfit, wearing a pair of sunglasses as she looks around. "You know," she says to no one in particular. "This place looks worse and worse every time I stop by," she says, biting her lower lip in thought, a devilish glint of intellect sliding into her eyes. Turning herself towards the front desk, she tosses her hair, lifts her chin, and closes her eyes, looking entirely (over)confident as she strides towards the desk. "You know, I'm wondering if we can do the same deal we did last time. You don't charge me for ~anything~, and I take care of the upper floors every night I'm here. Sound good? Of /course/ it does." Shego says, reaching across the desk to take a room key, tossing it up in the air and catching it again. Next stop? The job boards. Wheeling her suitcase that way with a peppy little step, she looks over the boards as well. "Huh. See anything good?" she asks, curling her lip at the first she sees. "Help an Old Widow protect Her Home from the Heartless every night? I bet that pays /great/." |
| Mercade Alexander | Mercade's eyes flick over towards Shego as she enters. How could he not notice? She's dressed like a superhero. Or a supervillain. Whichever. He arches an eyebrow as she walks in and 'negotiates' a room. As she pops on over to the boards, Mercade comments, "You must be pretty confident in your abilities to go cleaning out the upper floors every night." He looks back to the job board and shrugs, tapping the job in question. "Probably not, but who knows? There's other ways to pay someone than money, right?" He looks over, turning to Shego and observing the woman with a critical eye. "So. What's your name, big-timer?" He flicks a hand, producing a business card and providing it. "I'm Mercade Alexander, of the Twilight Detective Agency." |
| Shego | "Yeah, well, I got a secret when it comes to doing ~that~ particular job," says Shego, giving Mercade a wide grin, winking at him and bringing a hand up to her nose to tap it. She draws another breath, as if about to say something more, but instead just smiles widely. "But I'm not telling." "Unless she's sitting on a mansion, I don't know why she'd want to stop the Heartless from coming in anyways. Just sell it already, and move on!" Shego enthuses, although she sounded just a bit distracted, sucking thoughtfully on her lower lip as she scans other jobs. There was another one that actually catches her eye, and Shego picks it up from the board, tearing the bit of paper that it was written on, before sticking that into her jumpsuit. He was giving her a critical eye - she turns somewhat, and stares levelly at him, her expression disapproving. At least, until he flatters her with the 'big-timer' phrase, a smirk touching her lips. "Shego. I do freelance work, here and there. Like you, but a little less detecting, and a little more wrecking, by the sound of it." |
| Mercade Alexander | "Of course. Can't let it get out or else someone else might move in on your deal." Like Mercade. He'd /love/ free rent for the TDA. Do you have any idea how expensive it is to keep a dozen people here? "People care about their homes. Not everyone might feel that way, but there's a reason why people stand up and defend them, even if they might be nothing more than a cardboard box." Mercade nods at her response. "So you're more of the... physical security specialist. Your security, and their lack of it." Mercade says with a quirk of his mouth. "Nice to meet you. Where are you from, if you don't mind me asking. I admit..." He looks over Shego again. "You remind me of someone from the comic books where I come from." |
| Shego | Any goodwill that the other might have been building with Shego fades as the supervillain rolls her eyes as Mercade explains the whole 'home' thing. "Oh, you're one of ~those~, huh?" she says, sighing. "Alright, alright. I get it," she says, kinda waving a hand in a dismissive manner towards the detective. There was another sound from her at the last thing he says, "Comic books?" she says then, her tone of voice flat as her eyes kinda narrow in on Mercade. "Like you kinda remind me of every bad noir film, ever," she says then. "But yeah. I deal in security. Usually I work with people - you know, they make the big plans, I just keep people from ruining them, and they pay me lavishly for it. But I kinda wanted to see the world, you know? Or the worlds, such as it may be." |
| Mercade Alexander | "Hey, I'll cop to it." Mercade says, chuckling as she says he reminds of of noir films. "I've always had an appreciation for noir and the detective mystique." He says. A hand rises up to brush at something on his head that isn't there. Like a hat. He looks irritated for a moment, and then sighs slightly, bringing his hand back down. "There's been a lot of problems with the Heartless." Mercade says. "There's probably a ton of work out there for you considering this... And you've probably seen a lot of crazy stuff." |
| Shego | For the longest moment, Shego just stares, looking unimpressed. "Well, you're doin' that mystique thing /greeeeat/, Chester. Getting ahead of the curve, too; the next time the twenties come around, you'll be all set," she says, turning her eyes back to her job, murmuring to herself as her eyes scan down it. "Yeah, wherever I go, there's usually ~something~ that can be done to get money. Except this one place I ended up," Shego says, tightening her jaw as she looks up from the paper, briefly, her eyes unfocusing as her gaze goes to some memory. "It was... weird." Giving her head a shake, her eyes drop back down to the job briefly, before looking up at him. "What about your outfit? Where are you heading after a stopover here? Got a lot of jobs ready to go?" |
| Mercade Alexander | "Let's make a deal. You lay off the way I dress and I'll lay off yours. Sound good?" Mercade folds his arms, not bristling yet about the criticism of his awesome detective stylings. They are totally awesome. Stop laughing! Well, at least he's not Ron Stoppable, right? "It must have been pretty weird indeed if someone with your talents couldn't find a way to make some money." Mercade says. His eyes narrow, apparently seizing on that tiny crack in Shego's front. He gestures as he's asked about the Agency. "We're rooming here right now since our world was devoured by the Heartless. We'll be moving into a new place soon. We use it as a hub to head basically anywhere we're needed. Always people who need help out there, after all. It pays the bills." Eventually. Look, he can't just leave the old lady, all right? |
| Shego | Nothing in the entire world was like Ron Stoppable. But Shego does a kinda wide-eyed, surprised look sorta innocent thing. "What? I was totally giving you a compliment! 2020 is coming up!" she says, but then that look is given up, Shego giving the man a devilish grin. "Alright, alright, I get it. I won't hurt your feelers anymore," she says, when that weird world was brought up again, chasing the smile away from her lips. "Yeah, well, you can't get blood from a stone, or some other saying like that, right?" she says, making a dismissive little hand gesture, like shooing the memory away from her mind. Although the last thing he says kinda gives her that wide-eyed look again. "You're going to headquarters... /here/? Heartless Central... /here/? So you can 'help people faster', and take all the cheap jobs..." she looks around again. "... /here/?" Shego looked absolutely flabbergasted. "Are you insane?" |
| Mercade Alexander | Mercade frowns slightly. It's not an angry froen, but more kind of resigned. This mercenary is a sassy one. THE WORST KIND... Or is it? Mercade hasn't really had a lot of mercenary contact. Mercade sighs faintly, and shrugs. "I guess you can't. Is it that there just were no jobs? Was it absurdly peaceful..." Mercade taps the side of his head. "Or was there no one there to /give/ you a job?" He smiles faintly as she goes into shock. "Well, not /here/-here. Not in this building, but here in Traverse Town, yeah. Why, what's so insane about it?" |
| Shego | Shego gives him a /look/ as he mentions that world again, her expression turning deadly serious. "It just... wasn't the right kinda place for... anyone. We'll leave it at that, okay?" she says, a tone of warning in her voice. Giving her head a shake, she flips the key in her hand away, and clutches the handle of her suitcase a little more. That was aboooout when she went into shock. Eventually, though, that shock turns into a slow smile, which then turns into laughter, Shego bringing up her hand to cover her lips. "Jeez. You guys need all the help you can get. Nothin's insane about it, it's just... jeez, look around you a little, okay? This is like the hub between worlds. If the heartless want to attack /anywhere/, it's here. You think the upstairs is bad? I think that's just the beginning. If you want to spend so much time here..." Shego just shakes her head sadly. "Yeah, you do that. Me? I'm going to take a nap, and then make some money. Ciao, alright?" she says, bringing up a hand to wiggle it in a farewell wave. |
| Mercade Alexander | Mercade nods. "I understand." He has a good idea of what's going on there. He shakes his head. "That's the point, Shego. You can't solve a problem if you hide from it. This place is /mostly/ safe. There's enough people here with interests to keep the Heartless from getting too extreme. There's an entire space navy here, hell." Mercade gestures in the general direction of Montressor. "I can't think of a better place to set up at the moment, really." He shrugs. Shego takes her leave, and he nods. "Well then, enjoy yourself, Shego. Good to meet you." He waves. "Have a good evening, all right?" |
| Shego | "Yeah, I'll do that. Stay 'safe', okay?" Shego says, fingerquoting the word 'safe'. And with such things said, Shego was manuevering towards the halls, starting to whistle a happy little tune. |