Alec's look of unease is less on irritation and more on other issues that he's not going to think about.
"You could if you'd like," he said, trying to sound like he didn't care he was stuck in a small space with someone who his father hated and would likely take advantage of anything that happened. "Though I'd be surprised that you would trust any work done by our people. Since, from what I've heard, everything you do is better."
Meanwhile, he did what lots of people would do in the situation and jabbed at the button to try and make it go again.
"My amenities speak for themselves," he plugs with false modesty. It's short-lived and, frankly, a little trite for his tastes as far as conversation goes. The bias here is obvious, but testimonies never lie...even the ones padded with a little green or a little portion of bread.
"Looks like we're sitting tight. Guess you won't be needing that lighter anyway."
"Lack of ventilation does. Thought you'd have some sense in that big melon of yours."
That doesn't stop Frank from reaching into the pocket of his jacket, fingering his own lighter thoughtfully. After a minute he smiles to himself. He's got plenty to do, plenty people to see and places to go, but what's making the most of a shit situation? Nonchalantly he produces the lighter from his pocket, flicking the case open and closed.
"But a few minutes won't hurt. I'm sure the greatest minds in Rapture are working on this right now."
The flame of the lighter stirs to life and, in a single, practiced flick of his wrist, is shut instantly. Sorry, buddy. No freebies.
Alec really never picked up on Andrew's poker face. Really. And so he just scowled and shoved the lighter back into his pocket. It's not like it was working anyway.
"Oh, yes. I'm sure they are," Alec grumbled a bit, crossing his arms. He didn't mean for it to come out like that, but the elevator small interior is making him antsy and so he's saying things he really shouldn't be saying.
The subtext is very easily read as "I hate this place and I want to go home... as in back to New York city".
Yup. Frank can easily see that he has this young man's full attention-- no easy task, considering the kid seems to live in a world all his own. He closes his fist around the lighter, lowering it to his side as his eyes wander from the button panel to the roof, trying to force a connection. He's alright for now, but somebody's gotta notice before long.
"Tough break, Dorothy. Maybe you can catch a ride on one of the supply runs-- you'll be smelling exhaust fumes and that city stink before dawn."
"Whoops," Frank replies with a half-hearted sense of surprise, "must have slipped my mind entirely."
It's no secret that the fisheries bring in more than just the catch of the day. Having his name attached, the mutterings of comforts from the surface painstakingly are half attributed to himself, half attached to a ghost...nay, a saint. An innocent smile surfaces as he dusts an invisible scuff on the face of his wristwatch.
Alec rolled his eyes and rubbed his arms absently. "Oh. Yes. I'm sure."
There's a few pacing steps, as he glanced at Fontaine constantly. His mind is whirling around into different directions. He wants to ask what Fontaine wants from him, but he's afraid of getting a 'nothing, you're not worth anything' from the man. Which, why should he care what this man thinks of him...? But he knew that if one of his father's biggest rivals thought he was worthless.
To say that Alec is insecure would be like saying the ocean was damp or Fontaine was a little bit of a jerk.
"I'd ask if you're going to try and get any information out of me but I doubt you'd get anything useful. Which I'm sure you know."
It's not the first glare he's stared down, and so long as he's breathing, Frank sure is it won't be the last.
"Hey, look who's thinking ahead now. Maybe that lighter conking out on you is doing you some favors."
He leans against the opposite wall of the elevator, enough to see out one of the glass panels and into the ocean landscape just outside the city walls. It's barely freedom, but seeing those wide-eyed, slack-jawed fish swimming around, clueless, is a reminder of why he's here.
"I don't want anything from you, kid. What I wanted was to make my meeting and snag a cup of coffee on the way in, but it looks like we're both out of luck."
Alec doesn't have to feel safe, but the lackluster approach to conversation might get him to ease up on that pacing a little.
Alec's glare kinda sucks anyway. It's like Ryan lite. But then again Alec himself is sort of Ryan lite in general. What Andrew Ryan might be if he had self esteem issues and a great deal of insecurity.
Which Frank isn't helping with at all. Nope.
Good job!
Calling him kid doesn't help either. His father treats him like a kid after all. Oh, sure he says that Alec should be independent and do his own thing... as long as it doesn't go against Andrew.
It does get him to stop pacing and return to a corner. He doesn't look out any of the windows into the ocean. Unfortunately this means that he's got to look at Fontaine.
The kid is more like his old man in name-- Frank can see more of a forced impression there, some kind of wax sculpture shaved down into someone's likeness rather than natural similarities. He doesn't think about either of them too much, honestly. That happens with a busy schedule. When one plasters their face across a whole city, the most harm you can do is say it's hard to recall why the name rings a bell at all. Bigger ideas.
"Don't tell me you're a fan," he doesn't conceal his sarcasm at all, laying the drip on thick.
"Look at us, two peas in a pod. We're gonna come out of this with our arms linked, skipping down the streets!"
Not that Frank is experiencing any irritations of his own. Oh no.
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"You could if you'd like," he said, trying to sound like he didn't care he was stuck in a small space with someone who his father hated and would likely take advantage of anything that happened. "Though I'd be surprised that you would trust any work done by our people. Since, from what I've heard, everything you do is better."
Meanwhile, he did what lots of people would do in the situation and jabbed at the button to try and make it go again.
It didn't go again.
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"Looks like we're sitting tight. Guess you won't be needing that lighter anyway."
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And he flicked the lighter... which refused to work. Did technology just hate him today?
With a sigh he closed his eyes and leaned up against the other wall away from Fontaine.
"Lack of movement should facilitate more smoking."
Because nerves.
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That doesn't stop Frank from reaching into the pocket of his jacket, fingering his own lighter thoughtfully. After a minute he smiles to himself. He's got plenty to do, plenty people to see and places to go, but what's making the most of a shit situation? Nonchalantly he produces the lighter from his pocket, flicking the case open and closed.
"But a few minutes won't hurt. I'm sure the greatest minds in Rapture are working on this right now."
The flame of the lighter stirs to life and, in a single, practiced flick of his wrist, is shut instantly. Sorry, buddy. No freebies.
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"Oh, yes. I'm sure they are," Alec grumbled a bit, crossing his arms. He didn't mean for it to come out like that, but the elevator small interior is making him antsy and so he's saying things he really shouldn't be saying.
The subtext is very easily read as "I hate this place and I want to go home... as in back to New York city".
His eyes watches the lighter almost hypnotically.
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"Tough break, Dorothy. Maybe you can catch a ride on one of the supply runs-- you'll be smelling exhaust fumes and that city stink before dawn."
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And that gets a bit of a flinch.
A flinch and a glare.
At least Fontaine's got Alec's full attention.
"There's no way out of the city. One law. No leaving."
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It's no secret that the fisheries bring in more than just the catch of the day. Having his name attached, the mutterings of comforts from the surface painstakingly are half attributed to himself, half attached to a ghost...nay, a saint. An innocent smile surfaces as he dusts an invisible scuff on the face of his wristwatch.
"Guess you'll have to get over it then."
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There's a few pacing steps, as he glanced at Fontaine constantly. His mind is whirling around into different directions. He wants to ask what Fontaine wants from him, but he's afraid of getting a 'nothing, you're not worth anything' from the man. Which, why should he care what this man thinks of him...? But he knew that if one of his father's biggest rivals thought he was worthless.
To say that Alec is insecure would be like saying the ocean was damp or Fontaine was a little bit of a jerk.
"I'd ask if you're going to try and get any information out of me but I doubt you'd get anything useful. Which I'm sure you know."
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"Hey, look who's thinking ahead now. Maybe that lighter conking out on you is doing you some favors."
He leans against the opposite wall of the elevator, enough to see out one of the glass panels and into the ocean landscape just outside the city walls. It's barely freedom, but seeing those wide-eyed, slack-jawed fish swimming around, clueless, is a reminder of why he's here.
"I don't want anything from you, kid. What I wanted was to make my meeting and snag a cup of coffee on the way in, but it looks like we're both out of luck."
Alec doesn't have to feel safe, but the lackluster approach to conversation might get him to ease up on that pacing a little.
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Which Frank isn't helping with at all. Nope.
Good job!
Calling him kid doesn't help either. His father treats him like a kid after all. Oh, sure he says that Alec should be independent and do his own thing... as long as it doesn't go against Andrew.
It does get him to stop pacing and return to a corner. He doesn't look out any of the windows into the ocean. Unfortunately this means that he's got to look at Fontaine.
Welp, that floor looks interesting.
"Of course. Who wouldn't want a cup of coffee?"
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"Don't tell me you're a fan," he doesn't conceal his sarcasm at all, laying the drip on thick.
"Look at us, two peas in a pod. We're gonna come out of this with our arms linked, skipping down the streets!"
Not that Frank is experiencing any irritations of his own. Oh no.