[Home. Harlan's World isn't his favorite shit hole he's been to but it does carry the exceptional title of being Takeshi Kovacs' birthplace. Not that he's being particularly vocal about him being here, criminal record and a long line of people looking to slag his stack. Hence the hideout, large and obvious though it may be. It seems like it's always a hotel these days, a little something to make the AI happy. Though he would vehemently deny such sentimentality if ever pressed on it.
He's returned to The Nevermore to find someone other than just Poe in the lobby. It's instinct that has him drawing a weapon, leveling it on a stranger who looks vaguely reminiscent of a face he knows almost as well as his own, one that he hasn't seen in something like thirty years. The sight of this woman, on this planet makes him especially weary though other than the passing similarity around the cheekbones that makes him think of his sister he can't quite articulate the reason why. Instead, he alternates between glaring at the woman and the AI behind the bar.]
Poe, why's there a person in this hotel? I know you've got a few screws loose but we don't do visitors. You know what happens to them.
[Poe smiles that unnerving smile of his, waving his hand to discourage his companion from shooting their newest guest. Oh how he loves having patrons to serve. He fiddles with a messy array of neon colored memo notes until he finds the right one, clicking his teeth in satisfaction as he does. "Ah. Yes of course I am familiar with your concerns, good sir, but might I suggest that you lay down your weapon and that we speak to one another as gentlemen with an appropriate amount of decorum? This is Miss Daisy. She is our guest and will be for the foreseeable future."
It's only because he knows at least a half dozen ways to kill a man with just his pinky that Kovacs humors Poe's request, setting the gun down atop the bar as he continues to eye the woman suspiciously.]
Daisy, huh? I don't know what doom and gloom over there told you, but we're fully booked. No room for any additional guests. You'll have to find another hotel that'll take your money.
You should go before I make you go. [As an afterthought and because Poe had asked him so nicely, he amends his statement, mouth slanting in a way that says it's still not a request.] Please.
[ Staying in an AI-run hotel wasn't exactly her first inclination. Years might have passed since the mess with AIDA and the Framework but she'll probably always be a bit gunshy when it comes to this sort of thing. But when the pickings are as slim as they are on this stupid planet... Well, AIDA hadn't gone batshit crazy until she read the Darkhold, so she'll have to find comfort in that.
Not that Poe is altogether sane, mind you. There are a few things off about the guy, but she does have to admit there's something charming about him. Maybe it's just finding someone on this planet who actually has decent manners.
Unlike the asshole who'd just interrupted their delightful conversation and threatened to shoot her. An asshole who looked a whole lot like Sam Wilson — except Captain America's friend wouldn't have used the threat of violence as a substitute for Hello. Despite never having met the man, just the sight of him standing before her makes Daisy feel desperately lonely. A familiar face who isn't familiar at all...
The universe really does hate her.
She doesn't flinch at the gun, doesn't glare at the asshole or fling insults at him like so many others might. She doesn't run screaming or beg for forgiveness. No, she just leans an elbow against the bar and lets loose a deep, weary sigh. ]
Actually, there isn't another living human in this entire building. [ Let him make his own assumptions about how she knows that. Surely, there's some sort of tech augment people have these days that could scan a building for heat signatures. ] And our friend here said I could have the pick of rooms, so "fully booked" is a bit of an exaggeration, don't you think?
[ So maybe she should be turning tail and running for her life before the guy gets trigger happy. Maybe it's stupid to make a stand and try to gently argue her way into staying. But she's Daisy Johnson — she might not have a death wish anymore but that doesn't mean she's done making moderately dumb decisions. ]
Look, I don't want to cause you any trouble. I just need somewhere to stay that isn't a complete shithole with a rainbow of stains on the floor, something living in the walls, and someone cooking up the latest street drug down the hall. [ She raises her hands in an almost surrender-like way, even if that's the furthest thing from what she's doing. ] Don't want me in your business? I'll stay out of it. Hell, I'll even climb out the window if you don't want me in the lobby.
[ Is she trying to play a sympathy card? Maybe. Trying to appeal to whatever modicum of decency might exist in this man? Perhaps. But she's also being genuine, not hiding behind a mask like her spy instincts are screaming at her to do. If he's looking, he'll see that thread of desperation in her, along with the weight of exhaustion on her shoulders. And underneath everything else, maybe a little bit of fear.
[She doesn't flee. Doesn't cower. She doesn't even really tremble, just lets out some kind of tired sigh like she's seen the business end of a weapon enough times that it's stopped being something concerning and holds her own with some mouthy reply, calling him out on his bullshit.
Just as much as there are ways to scan for heat signatures where someone might have their ONI offline, there are ways to hide in plain sight. His sister's now RD'ed enforcer being but just one instance. Still, the technology isn't cheap or especially prevalent, so it's much more likely that Daisy has scanned the hotel for other signs of life, or gone the old-fashioned route and snooped its floors. The Nevermore isn't exactly the height of luxury, so security measures are fairly scant. It's a far cry from the way things had been in Bay City. Color him curious.]
He did? Did he?
[Leave it to Poe to roll out the metaphorical red carpet despite explicit instruction otherwise. He knows that these AI's usually crave company like an addict craves their latest hit, but Kovacs senses that this must not be one of those situations. Up until now he'd been fairly accommodating of the strict set of rules to avoid detection. Whoever this woman is, she must have some sort of inherent value. Maybe she'll be useful while he's here.]
You haven't tried to lay me out, so I'll let it slide that Poe's made an executive decision without consulting with people who know better.
[Poe chooses that moment to look away from them both and clean the already spotless glasses at the bar. Kovacs takes the moment to take a few large strides toward Daisy until he's within arm's reach.]
But people don't usually come to Harlan's World unless they've got business with the founding family, the Yakuza, or are looking to hide from someone else. So which is it?
[ Calling people out on their bullshit is what Daisy Johnson does, and she's just gotten better at it over the years. She notices more now, is better at observing and strategizing, but she'll probably never be all that great at knowing when to hold back her choice remarks.
The way Poe looks away and pointedly goes about his own business speaks volumes to the relationship between the two of them. The AI might run the hotel but he's not the one in charge; at the same time, the guy isn't issuing orders or being cruel to the digital soul working for him. It reminds her a bit of how Coulson had spoken of Stark and JARVIS — she hopes it proves to be an apt comparison.
Asshole Guy moves closer and she stays right where she is, not physically readying herself for a fight but still mentally preparing for one. No powers, she reminds herself. Not unless it's a last resort type of situation. ]
None of the above. I didn't choose to come to this planet and I don't want to be here any longer than I have to. I'm just biding my time until I can find my way off it.
[ Not a single word of it is a lie, which is the best way to keep things. Vague enough to be true while letting people assume whatever they want in between. She straightens up, ready to grab the backpack at her feet and either head into the hotel or back out the front door, whichever way this conversation pans out. ]
I don't want any trouble, just somewhere to stay while I figure things out. But you say the word and I'll go.
[Even before joining the ranks of the envoys, he'd learned to read people fairly well. Not all of his CTAC training was about weapons and following orders. Kovacs watches her carefully, checking for tells, any sign that she's hiding something. He doesn't find any, so either she's telling the truth here or she's good enough that his concerns have grown a lot more complicated than just an unwelcome guest.]
Someone drug you and dump you here?
[The fact that she's made it here of her own free will has him questioning further still. This planet's too far to do anything other than needlecast.]
Interesting.
[He pauses a beat. Motions for Poe to bring two glasses and one bottle over. The AI does as so desired, filling the glasses with minimal interrupting. Kovacs downs about half of the liquid.]
[ The first question doesn't get an answer, nor does she say anything in response to his commentary on the idea. Sure, pal, find it interesting that she's been dumped on a backwater planet in the middle of nowhere space. Focus on the what rather than the why, that's a much better arrangement for her.
Daisy eyes the second glass as Poe sets it out, but it's obviously not for himself. Said glass isn't even touched until her interrogator takes a drink from his own, though — can't be too cautious when death feels like so much more of a risk here. ]
Not everyone relishes the idea of changing their skin like a pair of clothes. [ She picks up the glass, tilting it so the amber liquid within catches a bit of light. ] I happen to like this face. Don't you get tired of changing yours?
[ Again, true statements that don't commit her to an outright lie. Dancing around the truth is a skill she hasn't had to use in a while; she just hopes she's not too rusty at it. Lifting the glass to her lips, she breathes in the smell of the alcohol before taking a small sip that's followed by a larger one. It's not top-shelf by any means, but it's sure better than most of the stuff she'd been slinging all day. ]
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no subject
He's returned to The Nevermore to find someone other than just Poe in the lobby. It's instinct that has him drawing a weapon, leveling it on a stranger who looks vaguely reminiscent of a face he knows almost as well as his own, one that he hasn't seen in something like thirty years. The sight of this woman, on this planet makes him especially weary though other than the passing similarity around the cheekbones that makes him think of his sister he can't quite articulate the reason why. Instead, he alternates between glaring at the woman and the AI behind the bar.]
Poe, why's there a person in this hotel? I know you've got a few screws loose but we don't do visitors. You know what happens to them.
[Poe smiles that unnerving smile of his, waving his hand to discourage his companion from shooting their newest guest. Oh how he loves having patrons to serve. He fiddles with a messy array of neon colored memo notes until he finds the right one, clicking his teeth in satisfaction as he does. "Ah. Yes of course I am familiar with your concerns, good sir, but might I suggest that you lay down your weapon and that we speak to one another as gentlemen with an appropriate amount of decorum? This is Miss Daisy. She is our guest and will be for the foreseeable future."
It's only because he knows at least a half dozen ways to kill a man with just his pinky that Kovacs humors Poe's request, setting the gun down atop the bar as he continues to eye the woman suspiciously.]
Daisy, huh? I don't know what doom and gloom over there told you, but we're fully booked. No room for any additional guests. You'll have to find another hotel that'll take your money.
You should go before I make you go. [As an afterthought and because Poe had asked him so nicely, he amends his statement, mouth slanting in a way that says it's still not a request.] Please.
no subject
Not that Poe is altogether sane, mind you. There are a few things off about the guy, but she does have to admit there's something charming about him. Maybe it's just finding someone on this planet who actually has decent manners.
Unlike the asshole who'd just interrupted their delightful conversation and threatened to shoot her. An asshole who looked a whole lot like Sam Wilson — except Captain America's friend wouldn't have used the threat of violence as a substitute for Hello. Despite never having met the man, just the sight of him standing before her makes Daisy feel desperately lonely. A familiar face who isn't familiar at all...
The universe really does hate her.
She doesn't flinch at the gun, doesn't glare at the asshole or fling insults at him like so many others might. She doesn't run screaming or beg for forgiveness. No, she just leans an elbow against the bar and lets loose a deep, weary sigh. ]
Actually, there isn't another living human in this entire building. [ Let him make his own assumptions about how she knows that. Surely, there's some sort of tech augment people have these days that could scan a building for heat signatures. ] And our friend here said I could have the pick of rooms, so "fully booked" is a bit of an exaggeration, don't you think?
[ So maybe she should be turning tail and running for her life before the guy gets trigger happy. Maybe it's stupid to make a stand and try to gently argue her way into staying. But she's Daisy Johnson — she might not have a death wish anymore but that doesn't mean she's done making moderately dumb decisions. ]
Look, I don't want to cause you any trouble. I just need somewhere to stay that isn't a complete shithole with a rainbow of stains on the floor, something living in the walls, and someone cooking up the latest street drug down the hall. [ She raises her hands in an almost surrender-like way, even if that's the furthest thing from what she's doing. ] Don't want me in your business? I'll stay out of it. Hell, I'll even climb out the window if you don't want me in the lobby.
[ Is she trying to play a sympathy card? Maybe. Trying to appeal to whatever modicum of decency might exist in this man? Perhaps. But she's also being genuine, not hiding behind a mask like her spy instincts are screaming at her to do. If he's looking, he'll see that thread of desperation in her, along with the weight of exhaustion on her shoulders. And underneath everything else, maybe a little bit of fear.
She hates being afraid. ]
no subject
Just as much as there are ways to scan for heat signatures where someone might have their ONI offline, there are ways to hide in plain sight. His sister's now RD'ed enforcer being but just one instance. Still, the technology isn't cheap or especially prevalent, so it's much more likely that Daisy has scanned the hotel for other signs of life, or gone the old-fashioned route and snooped its floors. The Nevermore isn't exactly the height of luxury, so security measures are fairly scant. It's a far cry from the way things had been in Bay City. Color him curious.]
He did? Did he?
[Leave it to Poe to roll out the metaphorical red carpet despite explicit instruction otherwise. He knows that these AI's usually crave company like an addict craves their latest hit, but Kovacs senses that this must not be one of those situations. Up until now he'd been fairly accommodating of the strict set of rules to avoid detection. Whoever this woman is, she must have some sort of inherent value. Maybe she'll be useful while he's here.]
You haven't tried to lay me out, so I'll let it slide that Poe's made an executive decision without consulting with people who know better.
[Poe chooses that moment to look away from them both and clean the already spotless glasses at the bar. Kovacs takes the moment to take a few large strides toward Daisy until he's within arm's reach.]
But people don't usually come to Harlan's World unless they've got business with the founding family, the Yakuza, or are looking to hide from someone else. So which is it?
no subject
The way Poe looks away and pointedly goes about his own business speaks volumes to the relationship between the two of them. The AI might run the hotel but he's not the one in charge; at the same time, the guy isn't issuing orders or being cruel to the digital soul working for him. It reminds her a bit of how Coulson had spoken of Stark and JARVIS — she hopes it proves to be an apt comparison.
Asshole Guy moves closer and she stays right where she is, not physically readying herself for a fight but still mentally preparing for one. No powers, she reminds herself. Not unless it's a last resort type of situation. ]
None of the above. I didn't choose to come to this planet and I don't want to be here any longer than I have to. I'm just biding my time until I can find my way off it.
[ Not a single word of it is a lie, which is the best way to keep things. Vague enough to be true while letting people assume whatever they want in between. She straightens up, ready to grab the backpack at her feet and either head into the hotel or back out the front door, whichever way this conversation pans out. ]
I don't want any trouble, just somewhere to stay while I figure things out. But you say the word and I'll go.
no subject
Someone drug you and dump you here?
[The fact that she's made it here of her own free will has him questioning further still. This planet's too far to do anything other than needlecast.]
Interesting.
[He pauses a beat. Motions for Poe to bring two glasses and one bottle over. The AI does as so desired, filling the glasses with minimal interrupting. Kovacs downs about half of the liquid.]
Why don't you just needlecast out of here?
no subject
Daisy eyes the second glass as Poe sets it out, but it's obviously not for himself. Said glass isn't even touched until her interrogator takes a drink from his own, though — can't be too cautious when death feels like so much more of a risk here. ]
Not everyone relishes the idea of changing their skin like a pair of clothes. [ She picks up the glass, tilting it so the amber liquid within catches a bit of light. ] I happen to like this face. Don't you get tired of changing yours?
[ Again, true statements that don't commit her to an outright lie. Dancing around the truth is a skill she hasn't had to use in a while; she just hopes she's not too rusty at it. Lifting the glass to her lips, she breathes in the smell of the alcohol before taking a small sip that's followed by a larger one. It's not top-shelf by any means, but it's sure better than most of the stuff she'd been slinging all day. ]