Less Is More

January 27, 2016:

Red Hood invites Captain Cold around for a look at the new base of operations he is setting up, and the restaurant above it…

Dim Sum Restaurant - Hell's Kitchen


NPCs: None.



Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

A message was sent to Cold, asking him to meet at a certain building in Hell's Kitchen close to midnight. It's an hour when vigilantes are out and about, but right now, he's doing nothing wrong. A rather souped up Yamaha motorcycle is parked at the corner and Red Hood is waiting, leaning against the face of a building that has a 'For Sale/Sold' sign on one of the windows.

There are a few folks walking the streets; drunks heading from one bar to another, twenty-something hipsters and clubbers heading from one bar/club to another, a few folks walking home from the Subway…no one of consequence.

Despite the cold and giant snow piles from the recent blizzard, he's still wearing jeans, his leather jacket, and helmet…no concessions to the chill in the air.

Leonard Snart looks over the area from across the street.

Garbed in his typical hoodie, the chilly criminal quietly makes his way over to the building Hood had mentioned in his message. Warily, he pauses to let some semi-drunk bar patrons walk by him, before continuing on his way.

"Cozy," he remarks laconically as he spots Red Hood over by the 'For Sale/Sold' sign. "Not my idea of a 'seachange' but then, to each his own." A smirk adorns his face, visible as he lifts his chin and pulls back his hoodie.

"My kind of weather."

"I thought so," Hood offers, still wearing his helmet, "Why don't I show you around." A key appears in a gloved hand and he opens the front door and moves off to one side to turn off a silent alarm. "I figured you'd enjoy getting out in this. I don't really feel it, myself." Bat Training: Teaches one to ignore the elements, for the most part. Other training did the rest. Maybe being dead helped some as well.

A few lights are flicked on to show a fairly plain restaurant. "This is where the tables will be and the kitchen is in the back. We have to decorate it, of course, and then start the marketing, but this is going to the best Dim Sum restaurant in Hell's Kitchen." He then gestures for Cold to follow him through another door. There's a short hallway before he goes to turn off another alarm and unlock another door. "And here is where we'll have the Conference room."

"I hope you brought me for more then decor-tips," Cold retorts in a murmured drawl. There's very little actual reproach in his voice; it sounds almost lazy, deceptively calm, but still - he does the 'polite thing' and takes note of everything as Todd points it out to him.

"I take it you're building more than just a Dim Sum restaurant, then," he remarks in such a way as to not /quite/ be asking a question. He follows through the next door and into the 'Conference Room' and purses his lips.

"The layout is workable. What will you use for security?"

Red Hood leans up against an undecorated wall briefly, his arms crossed at his chest, "Oh, I don't think I need your decor tips. I have people for that, but if you have an opinion, I'm willing to hear it. It's probably going to be mostly red and gold. It's traditional." He glances about before turning his gaze back to Cold, "I've hired everyone who will be employed at the restaurant. Rather, they're on my payroll…and they're loyal or can be replaced. We also have rather advanced security systems that will be put in place. More than this crap." A hand gestures to the keypads on the wall.

"I have another room to show you." He pushes a couple of places on a wall panel and a door slides open revealing stairs down. Industrial lights are flicked on, lighting up a warehouse-type Basement that takes up more than the base of the single building. It already has an inventory as well. Red Hood moves over to a crate and opens it up, revealing a cache of weapons. "From the first Shipment."

Cold smiles.

"I was wondering when we'd get to the main course," he murmurs to the Red Hood, eyes glinting wolfishly. Flexing his arms at his sides, the master of sub-zero temperatures follows his… business associate down the stairs. "Save me a table for when things are up and running in the restaurant, too," he tells Hood with a smile. "I don't eat out half as often as I should - standards, of course." As he says the word 'standards', his eyes fall on the weapons in the crate, and they gleam brilliantly.

"Now that's what I call an appetiser."

"Oh, you'll be a VIP. Pick a table and it'll be your's." Red Hood grins from behind his helmet, not that it can be seen. "As far as anyone will know, this is a legit business. Hiding in plain sight. It's done often, but not very well." He closes the lid of the crate and gestures for Cold to precede him back up the stairs. "You can have use of these, of course, with prior notification." Permission. "There will be more coming in. What do you think? As promised, if you have ideas you'd like to share for this place, I'm willing to listen."

"I couldn't agree more…"

Cold's words are spoken with a light timbre - the sort of tone one reserves for matters that prove to be 'common problems' yet no one ever seems to solve them, or 'do it right'. Uttering a light 'hmph', he lowers his gaze from the room once more, to look at Red Hood.

"VIP, eh? I'll take it. As for the decor… I might have some suggestions regarding security. It's kind of a hobby." He half-smiles again. "When do you - or is it 'we' - open?"

"I'm all ears. Nothing too obvious. We don't want cops or vigilantes snooping around. Nothing to make them suspicious. Those working here won't even have access to the basement. Wouldn't want them in some sort of situation where they'll have to open it up." Red Hood moves back to the Conference Room, "We open next month. Have to get the place set up right and get the proper permits. The chef is a personal acquaintance from China. I hope you approve." Not that he'd change anything if he didn't.

Cold nods, then starts walking the edges of the room, tracing fingertips over the walls etc pensively. "It would take a trained eye to spot the equipment I use at the docks…" he mentions conversationally. The words 'trained eye' are spoken with a slight glance in Todd's direction, as if suggesting exactly who would qualify for such an appraisal.

After all, Todd got past Cold's security with no trouble at all.

"And I'm of the opinion…" he pauses to turn and regard his associate. "That 'less is more'. I suggest some cheap cameras - two, perhaps - for the restuarant itself. Nothing fancy - just position them right - and… we can work something a little more 'artful' into this area. One would think, if they can make it in 'here', they're either /invited/ or… out of our league."

He shrugs.

"You picked an ideal location."

"I want you to assume that those looking will have trained eyes." If he could find them, he knows at least three others who could as well. Red Hood listens at the suggestion about the cheap cameras, "Good point. Put up the ruse. Hell, I'll even hire some security. After all, it's not the best area, but my hope is to get this place packed."

Most bars and places used as fronts are kept empty except for those 'in the know'. Who would use a busy, bustling restaurant as a front?

"If they make it into this Conference Room, they have an invitation. Major business shouldn't go down here, but it's better than doing something in the open."

Red Hood also shrugs, "Thanks. It wasn't too hard. I basically looked to see what would work in the area. Wasn't that hard."

"Trained eyes…"

Cold watches Hood thoughtfully. It stands to reason that either one of them would operate in a world where the so-called 'good guys' (and some of the other 'bad guys') are just as good, if not better. "Fine. No argument here. One question though: what do you have by way of a… back-door? I'm thinking 'down' but you seem like a 'rooftop' kinda guy. Sound-proofing for this area is something else you might want to consider."

There's another smirk under the helmet, again, not that it can be seen. "Trained eyes," is echoed. "Try to make it so that I have a hard time finding it." He tilts his head some as he looks back at the other, "Soundproofing is going up under the red brocade wallpaper. It will also go up in here and downstairs." Pulling himself away from the wall, he slowly strolls around the perimeter of the room. "There's a back door downstairs, yes. There's also one to the roof. It's also alarmed. Don't want those 'trained eyes' thinking they can sneak in that way too, you know."

Cold tilts his head to the side, eyeing Red Hood sidelong for a few moments before giving a short nod. "It sounds to me like we have the basics covered," he says with a dry air. "As for the cameras, etcetera - leave them to me. If you like, I'll keep you out of the loop and you can try sneaking into your own place. I can make a start with ordering parts from local stores - it'll make the paper-trail a regular business-owner would create, starting out."

He smiles and crosses the room again, back toward Hood.

"The 'nicer' toys… I have some contacts. I'll reach out. Do you have name for the restaurant yet?"

There's actually a laugh at the suggestion that he be the one trying to sneak in, "Done. Let me know when you're set up and I'll try to sneak in here a couple of different times. I can deal with that sort of test." He seems quite amused by that suggestion. "Good idea with the paper trail. Let me know if you need anything for the purchases."

As for a name of the restaurant, he shrugs. "I'm going to let the chef do the naming. It'll be his place, after all. We'll get it registered…have a grand opening. Maybe a 24 hour Dim Sum party or something. What do you think?"

"I'd say, 'only if I can be there for it'," Cold replies with a muted half-smile on his face, and he makes his way toward the stairs leading back up again. "But I have a particularly recognisable face. There are ways around that - although I'm not talking of a mask like yours."

The half-smile becomes more of a smirk.

"I like it. I'll be in touch."

Cold heads up the stairs, pulling out his cellphone as he goes. "Greer. It's Cold. Get Tyler and Forbes. We're going shopping…"

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 License