Plotlogs
Night At The Museum Sr Aristotle 240604
In a dark, sophisticated penthouse, the tension between Julia and Mikhael reaches its climax. Mikhael confronts Julia with knowledge of a mysterious mission she undertook, leveraging photos of her family as a threat. Mikhael, showing a photograph of Julia's home, spouse, and child, makes it clear he has the upper hand. Julia, desperate to protect her family, offers up the camera containing compromising footage.
Mikhael’s demands escalate, leading Julia into a situation far beyond a mere exchange. He insists that Julia eat the SD card from her camera to ensure no evidence remains. Under the immense pressure of Mikhael's threats towards her family, Julia complies, consuming the SD card to prove her loyalty and compliance.
As Julia succumbs to Mikhael's demands, her desperation peaks when Mikhael feigns a phone call to his associate, ordering a hit on her family. In a frantic attempt to save her loved ones, Julia lunges at Mikhael, only to discover his cruel bluff. He never intended to harm her family; the phone call was a manipulation, a final test of her submission.
Mikhael leaves Julia in a state of relief mixed with devastation, her sobs a testament to the ordeal she endured. It’s clear Mikhael may call upon her in the future, as he ensures his associate keeps Julia's house under surveillance. The roleplay concludes with Mikhael exiting the scene, leaving Julia to ponder the depths of her despair and the lengths she would go to protect her family, forever watched and at the mercy of a man with the power to dismantle her life on a whim.
(Night at the Museum(SRAristotle):SRAristotle)
[Mon Jun 3 2024]
In the Foyer of a Dark, Elegant Penthouse
The dark, modern penthouse foyer exudes refined sophistication. Polished black marble floors reflect dim ambient light, setting a luxurious tone from the moment you step inside. Deep slate grey walls are complemented by a sleek console table with brushed steel legs, adorned with minimalist sculptures that cast intricate, captivating shadows.
The walls feature black decorative wallpaper with subtle, textured patterns, adding depth and an air of understated elegance to the space. A striking chandelier composed of interlocking black metal rings hangs from the ceiling, its warm light creating a mesmerizing interplay of light and shadow. This illumination highlights the contemporary art pieces, each strategically placed and illuminated by discreet spotlights, adding layers of visual interest.
The air is cool and carries a faint scent of leather and cedar, enhancing the atmosphere of refined sophistication. At the end of the foyer, tall matte-black double doors with sleek vertical handles stand imposingly, hinting at the opulent luxury that lies beyond, inviting you to explore further into this elegant haven.
It is afternoon, about 86F(30C) degrees,
Julia is silent at Mikhael's question, but the way her expression changes suggests she does remember him, as she does the party. And, the private room she was in. She's still tense, though, standing near the desk with one hand set on it as it creeps closer towards the phone. She tries to mirror his nonchalance, but the way in which he entered her room has left her shaken and she can't seem to quell it. "...Ah, right. Yes. I remember." She says, confirming with a little nod. "Was... there a problem with the room?" She asks. Again, her attempt at nonchalance fails, but she tries to control her fear and feign as though nothing is or could be wrong.
As for the phone? It is a reply from Borislav. Twenty-Nine minutes, one minute shy of the time he was given. He sends a photo of an infant, as well as a home address. A photo of the home, with a message confirming the residence belonging to Julia, her husband (of which another photo is attached, David,) and the newborn they share together.
The way Julia's hand inches towards her phone still goes uncared for by Mikhael - not while he breaks into a laugh that disregards all that she's said. It is low, amused - and the way his eyes crinkle at the edges suggest genuine mirth, even if it is nestled in the folds of an expression too wolfish, too predatory with how his smirk grows wide to include threatening cuspids in his smile. "You were on a mission," He judges, deigns to inform. "Unless you're one unfaithful wife," His eyes begin to pan up from his phone, "You knew exactly what you were looking for that night, weren't you?"
Now, he turns his phone to her. The image of her residence is enough of a threat, maybe, but he doesn't stop with it. Swipes the screen with a thumb to show the image of an infant, then the image of her spouse. "I don't do well with threats to my own people, you see." Above his smile, the way those eyes in their perpetual hellfire pin on Julia are entirely wrathful - and it may jut be because of the sanctuary that had begun to settle on her in her current, few days of stay, as well as the protection of the Antler that she still draws breath, for now. "You wanted to talk to my intern, right? Let's cut out the middle man, talk to me instead."
There's an incredulous look settling on her features at the insinuation of her being unfaithful. In fact, she looks quite offended - combative, even, until the phone is turned to her and she's met with images of her home, child, and then her spouse. The combative look falters and breaks immediately, and she tenses. "...How did you get those..." she starts to ask, before flicking her eyes from the phone, to him, and back twice more. "...Is this a threat? What do you want? The video?" She asks, voice shaken. "...How did you get those pictures?"
"Don't worry about it," Mikhael tells Julia as he begins to pace now, towards the bed. His phone is shut, stuffed into his pocket while he takes a seat on the edge of the room's only place of rest, and the hand in his pocket so far returns with a pack of cigarettes. He retrieves one, lays it between his teeth while he gives her no answer whatsoever until he's lit his poison, and set the pack and lighter over the sheets. Past a long inhale, he sighs his words, each of them riding the volute and trail of a gray smoke rising upward to the air. "I have a man outside of your house. Maybe even inside, by now. The sort that thrives on getting his hands dirty."
The cigarette-bearing hand beckons her away from the desk, away from the phone she's inching closer. "You're asking a lot of questions you know the answer to. Now, I'm a man who likes to make sure something is done, and something is done right." His tongue clicks, and there is no hint of mirth whatsoever in the now business attitude he's taken, features in slate and marble only beholden to faint distaste at the edge of his mouth. "Right now, you have something incriminating towards someone of my own. I have your family. You fix, for good, what you were up to - and I'll.. ask whether my man gutted your husband out of boredom or not already. Closure, yes?"
Mikhael's words elicit a shaken exhale from Julia. It's not relief - the breath is much too heavy for that. Everything about her being is wrought with fear, and the deal presented to her has the gravity of the situation weighing on her so much that her knees buckle and she's forced to use the furniture she's near to keep herself upright. "...Please..." she says, "Please don't hurt any of them... I'll give you whatever you want." She says. A motion of her hand would petition Mikhael's attention towards the bedside table. "The camera I used is in there. There's not a copy, and... no one else has seen anything yet."
"Good, but you have to convince me first, I'm not pleased yet." Mikhael tells her with the casual nonchalance kept. The sort that keeps the point, maybe it would've been better if he was angry. "Show it to me, I want to see what it is." Another beckoning directs Julia towards the ground, in front of him, an unsaid demand that tell her to sit there on the floor with the camera. He takes another drag, and the ash is tipped to the floor, where he presumably ordered her to take a seat. Something to the way his disinterest lingers shows that he doesn't care that much about the footage, but plans something entirely else for her.
It seems movement doesn't come fluidly for Julia, but she complies. Tentative steps draw her closer to where Mikhael sits as she moves towards the bedside table. Fumbling hands move to open the drawer to withdraw the camera. Once the device is in her hand, she glances towards him, nothing but apprehension and fear still radiating from her. She then moves around in front of him and slowly seats herself before she's handing the camera over. "The... the footage is there." She says, her eyes fixed on him, like prey would peer at their predator as if looking for the slightest hint to run despite already being caught.
Red eyes as thick as blood continue to watch Julia at a constant. Mikhael is almost unblinking in how he follows her tentative steps, how she fumbles with the drawer to get what he demanded of her and return. The dread that she emanates may be the only thing elevating his mood, forces him to crack a smirk in silent reply while he takes the camera and folds the screen open to start the device and watch. He doesn't bother with it for long, just enough to confirm that it /is/ what she said it is, and if it is, how good for her. Mikhael would shut it then, and take out the sd card - and in an expression of pure slate that's the epitome of a perfect severity in seriousness, he flicks it onto the floor infront of her knees, onto the ash he was tipping down to the floor. "Eat it. I want you to chew it before you swallow." No evidence, no problem.
"...What?" Is the first reply that Julia gives. She's hesitant, before offering the alternative of, "N-no, just... just let me delete it. A lot of my other work is on that SD card." She says, petitioning him for an alternative as she reaches for the SD card that was discarded at her. "You want the footage gone, right? I can delete it no problem." She implores.
"Eat the fucking card." Mikhael demands, still in a soft-spoken tune, now. Each second she delay, he tip more ash onto it left on the ground before she mnages to retrieve it. "I won't repeat it a third time. Your work is over anyway, if you thought you could have a normal life after what you did, you're the dumbest reporter I've met to date." Another drag, distasteful, his subsequent sigh is through clenched teeth, withholding a snarl. Another beat, and he glances at his phone, begins to thumb down a number in sight of Julia. "You have thirty seconds, I'll tell him to start with the kid."
"Okay! Okay okay okay," Julia says, trying to stall his threat with her pleas of compliance. The SD card is already in hand, and with the life of her child now explicitly on the line, she takes the SD card into her mouth, and she chews. The tiny chip breaks, and can be heard breaking easily under the pressure of her jaw. She chews for a while before swallowing, and then once it's down, after a little cough, she's opening her mouth as if to prove it's gone. "It's done. It's gone. Please, don't hurt my family."
Silence begets his wait, he doesn't call the number, but his hand remains suspended on the button to do it. A wider smirk now breaks Mikhael's expression while Julia chews helplessly and ruins whatever work she's had along with the evidence, but his mirth at her suffering is short-lived. Back to the slate and marble, back to cold business attitude with which he begins to rise and step away from her. In passing, his palm lightly taps her cheek as if to praise her for a good job done well. "Thank you, kindly, ma'am." Then he dials the number, speaking even before he's had it to his ear, walking towards the door. "I don't trust you not to be vindictive, though, or that that was the only copy." It seems he's intent to finalize things here, leave Julia to to her own despair that's surely to mount soon after he's spoken his very next words into his phone. "Cripple the husband, take the kid and leave."
Julia watches him dial the number. There's a flash of hope in her eyes after he thanks her, as though she expects him to call off his dog. But, when he doubts her intentions and sics his dog on her family, she lets out a scream of, "NO!" and then scrambles up to her feet. She's lunging at Mikhael, as if her weight would be enough to take him down as one hand goes to try and stall his exit and the other going for his phone. "PLEASE DON'T!"
Another laughter breaks out as soon as she does that. It's clear, bright, entirely mirthful when Julia captures his arm to wrench his phone away, but Mikhael stands firm, resolute anywhere else - an untoppling wall, immovable object by the door as the woman that tried to lunge at her simply hangs upon him. Bared to her eyes, all he shows is that he hasn't called anyone at all, the phone's screen remains blank, while the smirk he directs low at her is wide. It molds the perfection of his features into one of cruelty-seeking mirth, elevated with her agony. "Fine, fine, but only because you said please." His other hand lifts to her midriff, casually shoves at her to create distance again. "We'll be watching, Ashfield. Be a good girl for us, okay?"
When it's revealed that the call was never made - a bluff, and her family is safe and secure, she is shoved off of him in a buckle as she crumbles to the floor. Relief, matched only by lingering fear, overwhelm her, and she does nothing but sob.
The sobs are music to his ears, Mikhael shoves his phone in his pocket, hands his cigarette by his lips, and sets his sunglasses back over his eyes. He doesn't bother to inform intern that fucked up, because surely it'll travel down through the grapevine that he's taken care of things here this afternoon. Julia is left to her own devices, her own despair and suffering while Mikhael leaves through the door, down the corridor he arrived. Only text he sends is to Borislav, something short in Russian, a few words of thanks, to add the house to his rotation of marks in case Julia is of any use in the future, tacked on with a wire transfer of money to his bank account for not pissing him off.
OOC: And that's a wrap! Thanks for spending this time with me! Let me know if you need a summons anywhere.
Mikhael’s demands escalate, leading Julia into a situation far beyond a mere exchange. He insists that Julia eat the SD card from her camera to ensure no evidence remains. Under the immense pressure of Mikhael's threats towards her family, Julia complies, consuming the SD card to prove her loyalty and compliance.
As Julia succumbs to Mikhael's demands, her desperation peaks when Mikhael feigns a phone call to his associate, ordering a hit on her family. In a frantic attempt to save her loved ones, Julia lunges at Mikhael, only to discover his cruel bluff. He never intended to harm her family; the phone call was a manipulation, a final test of her submission.
Mikhael leaves Julia in a state of relief mixed with devastation, her sobs a testament to the ordeal she endured. It’s clear Mikhael may call upon her in the future, as he ensures his associate keeps Julia's house under surveillance. The roleplay concludes with Mikhael exiting the scene, leaving Julia to ponder the depths of her despair and the lengths she would go to protect her family, forever watched and at the mercy of a man with the power to dismantle her life on a whim.
(Night at the Museum(SRAristotle):SRAristotle)
[Mon Jun 3 2024]
In the Foyer of a Dark, Elegant Penthouse
The dark, modern penthouse foyer exudes refined sophistication. Polished black marble floors reflect dim ambient light, setting a luxurious tone from the moment you step inside. Deep slate grey walls are complemented by a sleek console table with brushed steel legs, adorned with minimalist sculptures that cast intricate, captivating shadows.
The walls feature black decorative wallpaper with subtle, textured patterns, adding depth and an air of understated elegance to the space. A striking chandelier composed of interlocking black metal rings hangs from the ceiling, its warm light creating a mesmerizing interplay of light and shadow. This illumination highlights the contemporary art pieces, each strategically placed and illuminated by discreet spotlights, adding layers of visual interest.
The air is cool and carries a faint scent of leather and cedar, enhancing the atmosphere of refined sophistication. At the end of the foyer, tall matte-black double doors with sleek vertical handles stand imposingly, hinting at the opulent luxury that lies beyond, inviting you to explore further into this elegant haven.
It is afternoon, about 86F(30C) degrees,
Julia is silent at Mikhael's question, but the way her expression changes suggests she does remember him, as she does the party. And, the private room she was in. She's still tense, though, standing near the desk with one hand set on it as it creeps closer towards the phone. She tries to mirror his nonchalance, but the way in which he entered her room has left her shaken and she can't seem to quell it. "...Ah, right. Yes. I remember." She says, confirming with a little nod. "Was... there a problem with the room?" She asks. Again, her attempt at nonchalance fails, but she tries to control her fear and feign as though nothing is or could be wrong.
As for the phone? It is a reply from Borislav. Twenty-Nine minutes, one minute shy of the time he was given. He sends a photo of an infant, as well as a home address. A photo of the home, with a message confirming the residence belonging to Julia, her husband (of which another photo is attached, David,) and the newborn they share together.
The way Julia's hand inches towards her phone still goes uncared for by Mikhael - not while he breaks into a laugh that disregards all that she's said. It is low, amused - and the way his eyes crinkle at the edges suggest genuine mirth, even if it is nestled in the folds of an expression too wolfish, too predatory with how his smirk grows wide to include threatening cuspids in his smile. "You were on a mission," He judges, deigns to inform. "Unless you're one unfaithful wife," His eyes begin to pan up from his phone, "You knew exactly what you were looking for that night, weren't you?"
Now, he turns his phone to her. The image of her residence is enough of a threat, maybe, but he doesn't stop with it. Swipes the screen with a thumb to show the image of an infant, then the image of her spouse. "I don't do well with threats to my own people, you see." Above his smile, the way those eyes in their perpetual hellfire pin on Julia are entirely wrathful - and it may jut be because of the sanctuary that had begun to settle on her in her current, few days of stay, as well as the protection of the Antler that she still draws breath, for now. "You wanted to talk to my intern, right? Let's cut out the middle man, talk to me instead."
There's an incredulous look settling on her features at the insinuation of her being unfaithful. In fact, she looks quite offended - combative, even, until the phone is turned to her and she's met with images of her home, child, and then her spouse. The combative look falters and breaks immediately, and she tenses. "...How did you get those..." she starts to ask, before flicking her eyes from the phone, to him, and back twice more. "...Is this a threat? What do you want? The video?" She asks, voice shaken. "...How did you get those pictures?"
"Don't worry about it," Mikhael tells Julia as he begins to pace now, towards the bed. His phone is shut, stuffed into his pocket while he takes a seat on the edge of the room's only place of rest, and the hand in his pocket so far returns with a pack of cigarettes. He retrieves one, lays it between his teeth while he gives her no answer whatsoever until he's lit his poison, and set the pack and lighter over the sheets. Past a long inhale, he sighs his words, each of them riding the volute and trail of a gray smoke rising upward to the air. "I have a man outside of your house. Maybe even inside, by now. The sort that thrives on getting his hands dirty."
The cigarette-bearing hand beckons her away from the desk, away from the phone she's inching closer. "You're asking a lot of questions you know the answer to. Now, I'm a man who likes to make sure something is done, and something is done right." His tongue clicks, and there is no hint of mirth whatsoever in the now business attitude he's taken, features in slate and marble only beholden to faint distaste at the edge of his mouth. "Right now, you have something incriminating towards someone of my own. I have your family. You fix, for good, what you were up to - and I'll.. ask whether my man gutted your husband out of boredom or not already. Closure, yes?"
Mikhael's words elicit a shaken exhale from Julia. It's not relief - the breath is much too heavy for that. Everything about her being is wrought with fear, and the deal presented to her has the gravity of the situation weighing on her so much that her knees buckle and she's forced to use the furniture she's near to keep herself upright. "...Please..." she says, "Please don't hurt any of them... I'll give you whatever you want." She says. A motion of her hand would petition Mikhael's attention towards the bedside table. "The camera I used is in there. There's not a copy, and... no one else has seen anything yet."
"Good, but you have to convince me first, I'm not pleased yet." Mikhael tells her with the casual nonchalance kept. The sort that keeps the point, maybe it would've been better if he was angry. "Show it to me, I want to see what it is." Another beckoning directs Julia towards the ground, in front of him, an unsaid demand that tell her to sit there on the floor with the camera. He takes another drag, and the ash is tipped to the floor, where he presumably ordered her to take a seat. Something to the way his disinterest lingers shows that he doesn't care that much about the footage, but plans something entirely else for her.
It seems movement doesn't come fluidly for Julia, but she complies. Tentative steps draw her closer to where Mikhael sits as she moves towards the bedside table. Fumbling hands move to open the drawer to withdraw the camera. Once the device is in her hand, she glances towards him, nothing but apprehension and fear still radiating from her. She then moves around in front of him and slowly seats herself before she's handing the camera over. "The... the footage is there." She says, her eyes fixed on him, like prey would peer at their predator as if looking for the slightest hint to run despite already being caught.
Red eyes as thick as blood continue to watch Julia at a constant. Mikhael is almost unblinking in how he follows her tentative steps, how she fumbles with the drawer to get what he demanded of her and return. The dread that she emanates may be the only thing elevating his mood, forces him to crack a smirk in silent reply while he takes the camera and folds the screen open to start the device and watch. He doesn't bother with it for long, just enough to confirm that it /is/ what she said it is, and if it is, how good for her. Mikhael would shut it then, and take out the sd card - and in an expression of pure slate that's the epitome of a perfect severity in seriousness, he flicks it onto the floor infront of her knees, onto the ash he was tipping down to the floor. "Eat it. I want you to chew it before you swallow." No evidence, no problem.
"...What?" Is the first reply that Julia gives. She's hesitant, before offering the alternative of, "N-no, just... just let me delete it. A lot of my other work is on that SD card." She says, petitioning him for an alternative as she reaches for the SD card that was discarded at her. "You want the footage gone, right? I can delete it no problem." She implores.
"Eat the fucking card." Mikhael demands, still in a soft-spoken tune, now. Each second she delay, he tip more ash onto it left on the ground before she mnages to retrieve it. "I won't repeat it a third time. Your work is over anyway, if you thought you could have a normal life after what you did, you're the dumbest reporter I've met to date." Another drag, distasteful, his subsequent sigh is through clenched teeth, withholding a snarl. Another beat, and he glances at his phone, begins to thumb down a number in sight of Julia. "You have thirty seconds, I'll tell him to start with the kid."
"Okay! Okay okay okay," Julia says, trying to stall his threat with her pleas of compliance. The SD card is already in hand, and with the life of her child now explicitly on the line, she takes the SD card into her mouth, and she chews. The tiny chip breaks, and can be heard breaking easily under the pressure of her jaw. She chews for a while before swallowing, and then once it's down, after a little cough, she's opening her mouth as if to prove it's gone. "It's done. It's gone. Please, don't hurt my family."
Silence begets his wait, he doesn't call the number, but his hand remains suspended on the button to do it. A wider smirk now breaks Mikhael's expression while Julia chews helplessly and ruins whatever work she's had along with the evidence, but his mirth at her suffering is short-lived. Back to the slate and marble, back to cold business attitude with which he begins to rise and step away from her. In passing, his palm lightly taps her cheek as if to praise her for a good job done well. "Thank you, kindly, ma'am." Then he dials the number, speaking even before he's had it to his ear, walking towards the door. "I don't trust you not to be vindictive, though, or that that was the only copy." It seems he's intent to finalize things here, leave Julia to to her own despair that's surely to mount soon after he's spoken his very next words into his phone. "Cripple the husband, take the kid and leave."
Julia watches him dial the number. There's a flash of hope in her eyes after he thanks her, as though she expects him to call off his dog. But, when he doubts her intentions and sics his dog on her family, she lets out a scream of, "NO!" and then scrambles up to her feet. She's lunging at Mikhael, as if her weight would be enough to take him down as one hand goes to try and stall his exit and the other going for his phone. "PLEASE DON'T!"
Another laughter breaks out as soon as she does that. It's clear, bright, entirely mirthful when Julia captures his arm to wrench his phone away, but Mikhael stands firm, resolute anywhere else - an untoppling wall, immovable object by the door as the woman that tried to lunge at her simply hangs upon him. Bared to her eyes, all he shows is that he hasn't called anyone at all, the phone's screen remains blank, while the smirk he directs low at her is wide. It molds the perfection of his features into one of cruelty-seeking mirth, elevated with her agony. "Fine, fine, but only because you said please." His other hand lifts to her midriff, casually shoves at her to create distance again. "We'll be watching, Ashfield. Be a good girl for us, okay?"
When it's revealed that the call was never made - a bluff, and her family is safe and secure, she is shoved off of him in a buckle as she crumbles to the floor. Relief, matched only by lingering fear, overwhelm her, and she does nothing but sob.
The sobs are music to his ears, Mikhael shoves his phone in his pocket, hands his cigarette by his lips, and sets his sunglasses back over his eyes. He doesn't bother to inform intern that fucked up, because surely it'll travel down through the grapevine that he's taken care of things here this afternoon. Julia is left to her own devices, her own despair and suffering while Mikhael leaves through the door, down the corridor he arrived. Only text he sends is to Borislav, something short in Russian, a few words of thanks, to add the house to his rotation of marks in case Julia is of any use in the future, tacked on with a wire transfer of money to his bank account for not pissing him off.
OOC: And that's a wrap! Thanks for spending this time with me! Let me know if you need a summons anywhere.