2012-10-06 Good Mark - Fauxntress Revisited and Reviled

Mandrake sits quietly on a bench, a large news paper folded in his lap. He smiles for a moment, as normally this place has fond memories for him, but not tonight. He pulls a pocket watch from his pocket, checking the time. At causal glance he appears to be calm, but underneath it appears that he is waiting for someone or something.

Helena Bertinelli enters the huge building known as Grand Central Station and can't help but look around in momentary wonder. The place is vastly different from anything she's used to in Gotham, and so like the tourist she's been pretending to be, she walk slowly across the open area toward the clock feature in the center of everything. Mandrake had said to meet him here, but.. well. The place is enormous. And busy.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out his phone, texting over, '8th wall clock from the center clock. On the bench with a top hat and newspaper.' Quietly and quickly he slides the phone back into his pocket, his eyes, staring off into the distance.

Helena Bertinelli stands there lost for a moment, then blinks and checks her phone. Oh. She looks around again, then starts following the clocks on the walls until she sees the top hat. "Hey. Sorry I'm late."

Mandrake The Magician nodding his head, he slides over on the bench. "No need to apologize, it is a Lady's prerogative." He offers with a smile, however, his tone while normally cheery takes a turn to serious. Something that doesn't mesh with his appearance. "I have done some investigating and talked things over with our mutual friend." He never looks at her, looking dead ahead, his features neutral.

Helena Bertinelli accepts the seat and looks at Mandrake. "Oh? What did you discover?" Because the only thing she's discovered today is how much she HATES New York traffic. She rubs the palms of her hands on her jeans in an attempt to keep from crossing her arms. Again.

Mandrake The Magician continuing to look ahead, the magician once more speaks. "All of the Arrows are numbered. With specific numbers missing." He reaches into his jacket, pulling out a slip of paper with writing on it. Smoothly he offers her the paper as if it was noting more than his contact information. "On that paper is a list of the numbers, along with the numbers missing. 4, 8, 12, 16, 20, 24, 28, and 32. Have you heard of a group called '8' before?"

Helena Bertinelli takes the paper and looks at it. "Wait, eight again? what's up with that?" She folds the paper and pockets it, as if it is in fact contact information. "This eight thing keeps coming up, and I know there's got to be some significance to it. I just don't know what."

For the first time, Mandrake turns his head to her. "You have seen 8 before?" He nods. "They are an international criminal organization which can trace it roots back to..." He pauses, studying her for a very, very long moment. "Back to antiquity." He smiles at her, more of the hint of a smile. "I believe that the man who attacked you, is their agent. I understand you had him arrested?"

Helena Bertinelli ohs softly. She's never heard of the organization before, but then if they have any dealings with the mafia in Gotham they probably keep it on the VERY down low. "You bet your tophat I did. I was not about to let him try and attack anyone else.Because with them he could possibly succeed. I just hope he stays behind bars long enough to make it worth the effort."

Mandrake The Magician looking at her for a long moment, he breathes in deeply, very deeply. "I want you to recant your claim." He states calmly, physically, he braces himself for her response.

Helena Bertinelli blinks at Mandrake confusedly. "What? What claim?"

Mandrake The Magician looks at her. "I want you to tell the police, that this isn't the man." He continues. "He is our only link to the 8. If he is behind bars, we can not use him as bait."

Helena Bertinelli blinks. "You want me to what? Hell no. Besides, if these '8' people are as nasty as you say, they've probably already got him out on bail." It's what Mandragora's ilk would do, and why she's already abandoned the safe house Robin so kindly shared with her. Too close to where that jerk found her. "And besides, if I were to suddenly change my story, it'd probably make them suspicious that someone's on to them."

Mandrake The Magician steeples his fingers. "Yes. I am counting on the 8 being very suspicious of our friend. You see he is hurting a friend of mine, very, very deeply." He goes back to looking forward. "I think the 8, could be convinced that he is a loose end..." He shrugs. "All we would have to do, is find who the 8 send after him, and track that person. So on. And So on."

Helena Bertinelli sighs, slouching back a bit on the bench. All of this intrigue crap is SO not her accustomed way of doing things, and it shows. "Why are they keeping that dickbag around? Is it because of ... our mutual friend? That seems like a flimsy reason to me."

Mandrake The Magician folding his hands into his lap, he lets out a sigh. "It is my belief that they are testing one of us. You, Kit, Me, or another person, a witch." He chuckles. "Or...someone else entirely that we are missing. But they are looking to see who is connected to who, and which relationships are valued and which are, strained. They are looking for weaknesses to exploit, So far, I believe they have determined, that our friend is honor bounded, that I am naive and weak, that you are impulsive...For the fourth, I know not what they have found about the witch, I am going to meet with her later." He tilts to the side. "Further, my guess is they wish to eliminate, one or all of us in order to accomplish some other goal. Something they think we could''would stop. But this all a guess."

Helena Bertinelli nods slowly at Mandrake's words, then rubs the back of one hand across her mouth. "Four again. Is this the OCD branch of the Illuminati or something?" She breathes out an aggravated sigh. "Why are they even after you? I know why they're trying to screw with me, and I think they're getting some kind of sick thrill out of making Kit try and run in three directions at once. But why you?"

Despite himself, he laughs loudly, far louder than he intended. "OCD branch of the Illuminati, that is a good description. I am going to have to 'borrow' that." He shakes his head as he recomposes himself. "I have asked myself that question, a lot actually." He reaches into his pocket, pulling out a ring and talisman in the shape of a medallion. He shows both items to her, "My Mast...My Mentor game me one, and I earned the other. The Ring is given by our Friend, the Talisman given by his father." His hand closes around the items, clenching them tightly. "I do not know why, but our fates are intertwined." He looks at her, a touch of sorrow in his eyes. "Where The Phantom goes, I follow."

A young teenaged girl walks by, utterly ignoring the pair on the bench. Even a man in a top hat and tails isn't interesting enough to her (it's Manhattan; can't always stick out, right?). What is interesting to her, though, is her Hammer Industries-brand tablet computer, through which she's watching a Gotham news broadcast from their web site. "These are tonight's top stories: Work on the waterfront is finally nearing completion. As you may recall, over a week ago it was seriously damaged in an attack of giant, fire-breathing rats.  The Huntress is wanted for kidnapping a child from Saint Mark's private school earlier today following possible involvement the murder of one Charles Estevez, Sunday School teacher.  Another sighting of the Batman, this time in Bryantown, though he was also seen in Bristol and Neville at the same time.  Now for the weather..."

Helena Bertinelli can't help but smile a bit at Mandrake's laugh, but then her eyes snap toward the girl and her Hammer-brand tablet and the news report playing there. "FUCK," she hisses lowly enough for probably only Mandrake to hear. "They're upping their game, and now they've made it personal." She looks extremely angry, and ready to bolt.

Old Magician's trick allows the words from the new program to filter into his dense, but incredibly well groomed head. Helena's cursing distracts him, as he rolls the words over in his mind. "I take it that Huntress isn't you?"

"Of COURSE that isn't me. I've been in this damned taxi-ridden douchebag of a burb for DAYS." Helena clearly doesn't have a very good opinion of New York. "Some ... bitch is out there, kidnapping CHILDREN, from MY school, and dumping the blame on me." Her eyes narrow dangerously. "That's why it's now personal."

Staring at Helena for a long moment, he raises his hands to his chin. His fingers dancing for the briefest of moments in front of him, quickly he lowers his fingers. No, that would make Mandrake no better than the Man with the Good Mark. Mandrake should take a moment to trust his gut, she is telling the truth. After all isn't that what The Phantom would do? Something in her eyes screams that she is being honest. Mandrake slowly rises to his feet. "Ok, let's assume a few things. One, nothing I say will change your course of action. Two, the women you are after and the Man who attacked you are working for the same person. Then it seems logical to me, that I will focus on the Man who attacked you, unweaving his web to see if I can't find the source. And you work on the girl, who is soiling your fine, upstanding name." He flashes Helena a dazzling smile. "But, we should share notes, and I can contact you if I need help? You contact me if you need help?"

Helena Bertinelli stands also, but it's more of an abrupt movement than what Mandrake did. "I like your idea. And yeah, we definitely need to keep in touch." She digs a phone out of her jacket pocket, slightly different from the last one she had. "Give me your number again. I dumped the last phone already."

Unable to resist temptation, "I am hurt that you didn't memorize it my dear..." However, Mandrake reaches into the sleeve of his coat, he pulls out a couple of business cards, which he hands over to her. "In case you go through a few more phones...between now and the next time we meet." He looks more sternly at her. "I don't want to be patronizing...but be safe out there. If the Eight are behind this, they are lethal and brutal."

Helena Bertinelli takes the cards, her expression still as stony as when she heard the news report. "Well, just so happens that I am too." Well, when Oracle isn't yanking on her leash. Which currently... she isn't. "Tell Kit I'm on my way back to Gotham whether he likes it or not."

"Until our paths cross again then." Mandrake says, clearly he is still concerned, and he he doesn't doubt that Helena can take take of herself, it is just, what if the Eight are better. "I will relay your message." The fighting of his eyes, seems to indicate he might be lying..."Ok...call me in twenty-four hours, I should have something then." He then tells her good bye in Latin.

Helena Bertinelli nods curtly and replies in kind. "I will contact you then." She turns and walks briskly back toward the exit. She's going to collect her belongings and then find a way back to Gotham. Maybe by train. That's easy enough to do with cash.

Watching her leave, Mandrake lets out a sigh his eyes drifting up to the sky, he shakes his head to the heavens, before walking off. His own day is just getting started.