The Nice Guys (2016) dir. Shane Black
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@percyxmoreau
The Nice Guys (2016) dir. Shane Black
nixonreynolds:
“A Calloway? You must really like punishing yourself.” Nixon shrugged his shoulders, downing the rest of his drink before he shook his head, “Anywhere but here. I’m hungry, and I’m cranky. I’ll let you figure it out from there.”
“That’s exactly what I’m doing. Always been a sucker for self-inflicted punishment,” he replied dryly, though without any real animosity in his tone. “Is the Red Cross too tacky for you? I’m assuming that’s the type of hungry you’re talking about. If it’s not, I know some restaurants.” It was the type of hungry Percy was feeling as he stood anyway, putting some cash on the bar for his drinks and nodding at Nixon. “Let’s go then.
beatrix-tremblay-oakes:
Someone’s voice broke Bea out of her own thoughts, hand dropping from her neck as she turned her gaze on to the man. Bea wrinkled her nose at the offer but decided to give the guy a break. Hell, she had made similar mistakes in the past. Once she even picked up the wrong baby, but Bea forgave herself for that one as she realised before she had even finished standing up. “It’s kind of you to offer, but coffee has never been… well my cup of tea. I can order another, besides, I think the name Bea suits you.” She joked, gesturing to the name that was written on one side of the cup.
Percy looked down at the name and laughed, shaking his head a bit, “you think? I’ve always wanted to be a Bea. Is it short for anything?” he inquired as he pulled out his wallet, handing the woman a ten for her tea. This place really did commit highway robbery but that was city prices, “Shame to waste a tea and still not get anything in turn. Green tea isn’t really my cup of tea either so I guess we both loss there.” Except he still had his coffee and didn’t have one. “It’s shame you’re not more of a Percy,” he derided lightly, lifting the cup that should’ve been his, “but at least let me get this for you.”
themayor-calloway:
“There is no moving on from this. This is my home. My city. It was my state.” Clayton agreed that he would continue with the visits. Some might even be more productive without the full media circus surrounding him. He nodded his head, “I’m sure there are ways to make it unobtrusive.” Percy was making sense even if he didn’t really like it. “You have a point. I’m not going to pretend that you don’t. But if I can’t even keep my family safe what does that say about my abilities in keeping the city safe?” He rubbed his face, “All we are doing is reacting to tragedies. And I’m getting tired of it. I want one of these people in custody. I want something.”
“Exactly– and that’s what’s important right now. You’re as committed as you’ve ever been. You haven’t wavered and not even this tragedy can make you.” Despite the fact that Percy had taken this job out of convenience more than anything, he did admire the mayor’s resolve. It wasn’t something he came across often in humans. They were all so fragile–– so easily broken and yet the man before him was anything but. If Percy was going to work for anyone out of convenience, at least Clayton wasn’t a pathetic mess. “It’s a catch 22, no one’s arguing that. We’re just trying to make the best decision with what we have. And, from what I’ve heard, they’ve been at this for longer than we’ve even been aware of.” Even amongst humans there had been talk about how thorough these terrorists were, too thorough to have done anything on a whim which could only mean years of planning such coordinated attacks. “I know it’s not about winning, Clay–– but we will. No more senseless loss. No more living in fear. The people can and should look to you. No one has all the answers but what mattes are the leaders who don’t stop looking for them. The leaders like you.”
josefinexgatti:
Josefine eyed the vampire with a mild expression, lips drawn into a line but her eyes blank as she considered how exactly to respond. Part of her ached to give in and pick a fight, but another was exhausted, sick of putting herself in situations that made her uncomfortable to ended badly. It was a cycle that started with Mallory and would continue now with Percy, it seemed. “I highly doubt you’re wounded,” she said at length. “What brings you to town? Here to watch everyone be miserable?”
“I could be,” he countered with a smirk before scoffing a bit, “not everyone seems miserable. Maybe it’s just you. I mean, it’s no wonder–– we haven’t seen each other in a while after all, Jos.” She’d been fun once. A distraction, sure, but someone he found intriguing at the time, maybe because she was trusting and easily influenced. She’d seen good in those when it wasn’t there. Like she had in him. And, of course, he’d disabused her of that notion altogether over time but, for a while, it had been fun. “It seems like it’s impossible to believe I’m in New York because a, I want to be and b, I may have even gotten a respectable job. Why is that so hard to believe?” He took a sip of his drink before nodding at hers, “can I get you another?” Percy assumed what the answer would be but that didn’t stop him from asking, amicable smile still in place.
isxdcrx:
She had to force herself not to spit out a damnation that claimed it was a poor shame that Percy had just missed out on the chaos of the city come new years, a stricken slip of her own good nature neither fault of her own self control or her irritation in seeing him here now. It simply stemmed from the knowledge that perhaps she’d have been more on guard had he been here in the first place. Already willing to see the possibility of at least one person trying to push her over the edge. “I don’t believe in coincidences when it comes to you.” She’d known him far too long to believe that he was simply this lucky, so lucky that any ounce of connection she might have felt towards him was enough to leave him alive, despite being such a terrible influence in her life.
The breath that she could finally take, as unnecessary as it was, sat a little easier now that they were somewhat alone. The milling scent of the people below a little less pungent and the steady thrum of beating hearts a faint rhythm. I’ll stop pretending if you do. A stark reminder that he could see right through her efforts in trying, and when she stepped back, placing more distance between them than might have been necessary, but being close to Percy was almost as toxic as it was to listen to him. Poetic and usually all too convincing, he was the chink in her armor that she could never seem to rid herself of. “I’m not pretending — I’ve never pretended.” Spoken through grit teeth, Isa could only imagine the retort he might conjure up. “We’re not all like you, I’m not like you.”
“Well you should because this is,” he rolled his eyes at her. Of course he’d known she was in the city but he hadn’t really cared. Not until their paths had crossed. In the same vein, Isadora might’ve easily have left his presence but hadn’t. No–– she’d chosen to engage and open this gate and now that she had, Percy wasn’t about to let her slide. “You know, I was about to say you could’ve walked away but...thinking about it a bit more, you really couldn’t, could you?” He quirked a knowing brow, “you never do.” There was something about his presence that roped her in and they both knew that just like they knew she’d fight off whatever baser instincts called to her in the name of remaining good.
He pushed himself off from the wall she’d so rudely jerked him against and shrugged, fixing his previously pressed shirt, now ridden with wrinkles. Shame. “You always say that too,” he laughed easily, brushing a hand across his clean shaven jaw, “how you’re not like me, you’ll never be like me, you hate me, you want me to leave, yada yada yada.” History truly did repeat itself where Izzy and he were concerned. It couldn’t be helped. “You’ll continue to insist you’re not pretending until one day you snap and then you realize I was right all along, as usual. Really, Izzy,” he drew closer, stopping short a few feet away to avoid getting thrown into another wall or, even off the roof altogether, “aren’t you tired of acting like something else might happen? We both know how this goes.” She wasn’t nearly as stable as she seemed and despite how desperately she wished she was, the reality of the situation wouldn’t change: Isadora Bordeaux was always one step away from snapping altogether and Percy saw that clear as day.
bcthgarrison:
Beth raised a brow as if hardly impressed by Percy’s need to verbally spar, clicking her tongue as if summarizing her own rejoinder, “Mm, clearly I have a sense of charm that you lack, love. That, or plausible connections. She has been rather fond of me all her life.” After all, her tale of having spent a dinner at their house was proof enough, though how she obtained the cherished piece was that of sheer luck.
“Clearly not enough charm or I’d have been invited to dinner with her. Are you willing to part with it? I mean, provided you get the right compensation.” The painting wouldn’t go for less than fifty thousand cold sale, even more at an auction.
derek-calloway:
“Mr. Moreau. Hello. Pleasure seeing you. Mind if I ask why?” Derek mused with a small smile, cocking a brow as Percy sat across from him. He retained an aura of caution. It wasn’t that he was uncomfortable with the other man, but Percy worked for his father. Derek had to be professional; it came with being the Mayor’s son. “Surely he has good reason to keep those stories to himself?”
“You don’t think I’d ever do anything bad with them, do you?” He chuckled as he sat down, adjusting in his seat a bit, “I just need a bit more to go on than Clayton gives–– we’re trying to make your dad as relatable as possible, especially these days. Any tidbit or story you have could help with that. Don’t worry, he’ll review the speeches before he gives them anyway, and if he asks where I got this information from,” Percy grinned, “I won’t throw you under the bus. I just figured going directly to a first party source was better than extensive internet research.”
risingblaze:
“Do they really?” He snorted sarcastically. Blaze pretended to think about it for no more than five seconds before giving a curt nod. “Bit of both honestly sounds about right.” He hummed. Secretly though he was surprised the other had stuck around for so long, even if it wasn’t long at all. Most people would’ve given up on trying to talk to him within a couple of days. Strangely enough, Blaze found it rather commendable to a certain degree. It took a lot to handle the hunter’s ways.
“Does your,” he nodded at the ring on the other’s finger, “care about how social their spouse is?” Husband, wife, Percy wasn’t one to guess these days and it didn’t matter much to him either. He figured whomever was putting up with Blaze had thick skin. In the same vein, he could admire how Blaze himself didn’t seem to give a shit to how he was perceived. “And for the record, yes, people usually ask questions when someone says something outlandish. And then they answer and then you ask something else and,” he waved a hand with a chucle, “you’re what? Mid-thirties or something? I shouldn’t have to be explaining this to you.”
the-darling-miss-davenport:
“Oh God, never say a number that would really be insulting” Delphine smirked as she glanced back at him. She knew how old she was and how old others thought she was but even the the numbers could be a little insane. “ I feel like that would defeat the purpose of lying then. That would be just splitting hairs then. How can I be lying if someone else is discussing it?” She shrugged as she glanced over. She could never hide being a Davenport, not that she wanted to. It was just in her DNA and clear by how she looked. “ Am I? I don’t know whether or not to be flattered of to be annoyed how rude some people must have been
“You’re telling me. The last time someone asked me if I was having a midlife crisis, it was almost their last question.” Of course, even if it had been, Percy would’ve never owned up to killing someone for something so frivolous unless he was feeling bored at the time. Which, luckily for the waiter who’d asked that thirty years ago, he hadn’t been. “I’ll just suffice it to say you look as beautiful as ever, Ms. Davenport. Not a day over...twenty-six? Twenty-seven?” They may not have officially interacted but he knew who she was and she was self-important enough to know that others did. “I mean, by comparison to some, you might as well have just rolled out the red carpet. I’d forgotten how much New Yorker’s don’t care.” It was part of the charm to the city, he felt, that people were so tied up in their own lives they didn’t give a shit about anyone else. He liked that–– there was no pretense and no notion of false warmth–– it just was what it was and Percy always appreciated transparency, though he rarely was transparent himself.
caroline-bissett:
“When you find what you like, there’s no need to change it up. Unless something better comes along,” she added with a sly, knowing smile towards him. Her eyebrows went up at his words. “A job? I am impressed,” she smirked. She rolled her eyes at him, giving him a look that indicated she knew just how true that was. “You know where the power is,” she pointed out. He might be a background man to the rest of the world, but to the people who mattered, he mattered. “Yes, that was a terrible tragedy, wasn’t it?” she said, shaking her head. “Were you there?”
“Or maybe someone?” He smirked at Caroline, only teasing before a brow shot up in turn, “Impressed that I managed to get the job or impressed that I actually have one and aren’t wasting away my days?” Percy grinned now, gesturing to the next shop as indication for her to follow. He was getting a new watch, as though time actually mattered to the vampire. “I try my best to know anyway. And I wasn’t. I just filled in the spot when it become available. A terrible yet convenient tragedy, I think.”
Ryan Gosling photographed by Kazuhiko Okuno
“Do you have a sec, Derek?” He didn’t really wait for an invitation, taking the seat opposite his boss’s son. “Because I need any embarrassing stories you have of your dad since he refuses to share.” He had a notebook and pen in hand, which, despite his somewhat amused smile, showed he was more serious than not. @derek-calloway
beatrix-tremblay-oakes:
Despite the late hour, the coffee shop was still rather busy. Numerous people looking for their last hit of caffeine of the day so they could do whatever jobs and chores awaited them at home before they were able to collapse into bed. Stood to one side Bea was waiting patiently for her tea when she felt a familiar burning on the back of her neck. Her hand went to tattoo, momentarily revealing the circle that had been hidden by her hair. Looking around the shop Bea hunting for the culprit, for the witch doing black magic. They had to be near for Beatrix’s tattoo to be burning.
“Uh...sorry, I think I grabbed your....tea? Is it?” Percy hand’t glanced when he’d picked up his drink, distracted by his phone when he took a sip and realized it wasn’t his coffee, black– but green tea. “I can get you a new one, unless you like black coffee which,” he nodded to the one that just came up in an offer of exchange if she was so inclined.
wyattnaomi:
Caroline gave an elegant shrug that conveyed her apathy at the accusation quite accurately. “I never claimed to be otherwise,” she reminded him with a smile. “I’ve been here a while,” she nodded. “I’m working here. To afford the sunglasses, of course,” she smiled, sharing the joke. “And you, darling?”
“Yeah? Have you gotten up to Tom Fords yet or still making Ray-Bans money?” Percy grinned before running a hand over his jaw, “I’ve got a job. A nice honest living as the mayor’s speech writer, nothing too fancy. You know how I like to fly under the radar.” Half true and half patently false. “His previous writer...poor guy, went to celebrate New Year’s and, well, we all know what happened there.” It was sad as much as death could be to some, but it had been an opportunity for Percy to step in so he couldn’t complain. It wasn’t like he knew the guy. @caroline-bissett