Joined: 16 Feb 2004
|Posted: Thu May 20, 2004 12:45 pm Post subject: Bigger Business
|Date: 12/29/2003 1:50 AM Eastern Daylight Time
From: Ticallion Carter
.....A bluish-gray plume of smoke rose up into the air of the lofty penthouse office only to meet it's demise by the oaken and gold colored blades of the fan circulating slowly at the top of the ceiling.....
"Well, it's going to be hard. It's going to be really hard to get something like that done with that window of time. However, I informed you of that more than once before we embarked on this endeavor, Ticallion."
The voice came from Henry William Warrensworth IV, the sole heir to the Warrensworth estate and expansive fortune. Unfortunately, he ran into a little disappearance problem a few years back and once he came to, he found himself in a completely foreign land in completely unfamiliar territory and eventually he found himself able to climb back to the upper tier of society through a new means, as a talent agent.
"That's jus' great, H.W. I wanted to have this whole thin' done before the beginning of the week. That jus' adds another problem to the list I got already."
In complete contrast, the other voice came from Ticallion Carter, the product of the streets of New York City. Like his "siblings" in that vein, he was forced to try and stake out a living for himself in..unorthodox methods. He ran into a little disappearance problem as well, but unlike Warrensworth, Tical's disappearance actually enabled him to start a better life..and escape a decision that might have put him under very different circumstances than talking with his agent in a lofty, richly furnished penthouse office.
Warrensworth moved his blue eyes from the papers on the desk to a thoughtful gaze across his office. The fine cigar he had in his mouth burned slowly as he thought and spawned more plumes of blue smoke that floated high above their heads. Finally, he pulled the cigar from his mouth and exhaled a large cloud of smoke before he spoke.
"It isn't completely hopeless.." he began, in his charismatic upper echelon voice. "Through the investments of us both we have already put in more than half of the asking price at close to $3 million..American*. And by the same token, established ourselves as the primary buyer." He brought the cigar back to his mouth, his diamond cufflinks on the end of the sleeves of his tailor made silk shirt sparkled viciously and acted like a prism, sending a blanket of rainbow colored light across his redwood desk. Tical leaned forward over his side of the desk of his agent, both of his hands planted firmly on the desktop. "Half ain't enough. More'n half ain't enough. We need all of it. And we needed it a week ago." The diamond wrecking ball shaped pendant on the end of a chain around his neck rocked violently forward from the white sweater he was wearing and caught the light from the office windows as well, having a similar effect.
"If you would have let me finish, Ticallion...as I was saying, we've already amassed more than half of the asking price. Tyr Enterprises is willing to invest the rest of the money. But, as you well know, their executives are never willing to 'give' anything. They have other motives as well.." Rather than an elaboration, H.W. produced a piece of paper and slid it across the desk in order for Tical to have a look at it himself. Tical picked up the piece of paper and read over it quickly, his light brown eyes passing rapidly over the few paragraphs, once he neared the end of the paper he couldn't help but smile. His primary endorsers had struck again, and this time..they weren't pulling any punches.
This was a real problem. Tyr was willing to put up the rest of the money alright, but the flipside was that they wanted Tical to spearhead their next, newest line of products. His time had already been all but consumed between Tyr, some other side endorsements, and the team. And truth be told, if he was the Brooklyn Tical, that would be fine by him as long as he was getting paper for it. But that Tical had played the back for a long time, and for good reason. He had no need to go back to being *that* person. His thoughts immediately went from his past to his present, and more specifically, his fiancee. Kaja had become...distant, he knew it. He had an idea of what was going on as well, but he didn't want to jump to conclusions and he didn't want to outright say anything. He just played along. The other night, he had brought up an argument about something trivial..he had all but forgotten what it was about..and her reaction not only to the argument, but to the fact he had told her he was finally ready to settle down almost completely solidified what he was thinking in the first place. She didn't seem genuinely happy..a sharp slap against redwood brought his attention from his own thoughts back to H.W.
"Wha'?" Tical looked at his agent.
"Ahem. I said...do you think you can accomplish that? I mean, the actual clause at the end. They seem pretty adamant that they want to bring that key element in for this new line. Especially since it is winter." Warrensworth leaned back into his seat, and Tical noticed he had finished smoking the remainder of the cigar. Apparently, he had been in his thoughts for awhile despite the fact that H.W. also took a large amount of time to self-reflect before he spoke.
"Yeah..that last part isn't a problem. I can get started on that now. Maybe that'll keep Tyr off my back for awhile and free up some of my time. Aside from that, I planned on doing this anyway. And it'll help me solve some of my other problems." Tical put the paper back on Warrensworth's desk and turned quickly to head for the door.
"It's like I told you before, Ticallion. About those problems. With the type of foundation we're building you really shouldn't be worried about that, you can have anything you want...easily inside of a few months. However if you are insistent on it, remember you are what my family would call 'new money'. You haven't lost the mindset and habits you had before." Warrensworth had reached into his cigar box again and produced his pure silver monogramed lighter as he spoke.
"Whatever you say, old money. Whatever you say." The door slammed shut at the end of Tical's statement. However, his thoughts about what H.W. had actually said immediately reeled back to his former self again. Back then, taking what he wanted was never a problem...it was actually understood. Now, even though his life was simpler, that problem was much more complex...
(( *-American dollars circa the present time, 2003 ))