NPC: Nikolai Buys A Car
9/10/2005
11:03 AM
Logfile from GarouMUSH.
Currently the moon is in the waxing Half Moon phase (45% full).
It is currently 10:59 Pacific Time on Sat Sep 10 2005.
Silver Avenue, West Side
From Thirteenth to Fifteenth along Silver Avenue's north edge, the St. Claire Sports Facility sprawls northwards. The southern side of the street is covered with small buildings, the fifteen-story Tribune building towering above them by more than ten stories, along where Fourteenth ends. Small restaurants are set into some of the buildings, catering to the businessmen and those who come to the sports facility. Souvenir shops litter Fifteenth Avenue along the side of the sports facility, up to Jellico Lane: caps, shirts, stuffed animals with team logos or colors, buttons and other sports-fan paraphernalia are sold all along here. At the intersection of Jellico and Fifteenth, at one of the major exits from the sports facility across the way, a larger restaurant has a souvenir shop to one side, mimicking a Hard Rock Cafe and even, apparently, reaching for the same atmosphere. Along Jellico Lane, the shops tend to cater more towards the sports enthusiast rather than the fan: fishing stops, equipment shops, sports clothing shops for the athlete. At the intersection of Thirteenth and Ellicott a tall hotel rises, providing a place for overnight visitors to stay.
Contents:
Nikolai
Obvious exits:
St. Claire Gun Club Channel 23 St. Claire Tribune Rat and Raven Pub Ramp to Interstate North East South
[look Nikolai]
Nikolai stands a smidge over six and a half, straight as a board after far too many years in private schools. His hair is shaved down to a thin layer, the color such a light ashen grey it's only a few shades off of going white, despite his age which can't be more than mid-twenties at most. The same color is on the stubble on his chin and forms a thin representation of a moustache, though there are several patches where scars prevent the hair from growing in. They marr a face that would be naturally handsome, both fierce and attractive at the same time. His eyes are clear and and sharp blue, aquamarine in the light and cobalt in the shadows. Almost frequently they are surrounded by dark, sleepless circles, making the natural weight of his stares all the heavier and betraying the suffering of what could be called a very old soul. He dressed typically in nice casual or business-like formal, though periodically to be seen in clothing befitting a old world nobleman or modern highborn. When he speaks, it's in educated english with a strong russian accent that betrays his origins.
Despite all the stores catering to sports fans, there's a definite claim of one large auto square out in this part of town. After all, sports enthusiasts of all kinds need a CAR to get to the places they want to go. Sports cars, luxury sedans, hardy SUVs, common city and town cars, and of course the vans for the soccer moms. The autosquare isn't exactly bustling this late morning Saturday, but there's music playing and the smells of fresh coffee brewing. Further in the large glass windowed building, the salesmen are sharing watercooler talks.
It was an annoyingly long walk into the city from the farm, but Nikolai is well use to a good hike. The Silver Fang walks down the street with his hands in his pockets, here for no real reason save to investigate the city. The sight of the car market, however, seems to remind him of something. He lacks one. Narrowing his eyes thoughtfully, he turns to head across the street and check the market out.
As Nikolai enters the square, he is greeted with the bright and shiny sight of all those vehicles with smiling grills and headlights neatly lined row by show-off row. The Fang is bit of a walk from the center building, and the salesmen continue to chat, leaving the Fang undisturbed for at least a few minutes while the ahroun gets his look around.
Never one to actually look at cars, Nikolai has no real idea of what he's looking for. He's just looking. The Ahroun meanders up and down the rows, snooping at the outsides and insides more like he were judging a potential enemy than a potential purchase.
Finally, after minutes of near aimless wanderings through the car lot with a few autos trying to scream 'BUY ME!' and not being heard, a few salesmen notice the browsing Fang. One breaks off with a smile and wave to his coworkers, setting his morning coffee down on his desk and departing from the building. The man is relatively tall, all the charisma of a goodnatured salesman, brown hair and eyes, Caucasian by most accounts. "Good morning sir," the dealer greets amiably as he approaches. Look for the eyes, and hold on, so business and sales tactics suggest. Except, when this salesman looks for the ahroun's eyes, it is with a brief (but visible) surprise at the scars on the fullmoon's face.
"An accident." Says Nikolai with all his accent to the man's expression, offering up a brief smile. Though he is dressed in casual khaki pants and a black button down shirt, he is one of those people that just looks like they have money. "Tell me, is American cars all you have?"
The salesman ahs softly. His smile is just a touch more forced, but he nods. "I'm Brian, and ah, the cars out here are not all American... we do have some imports further into the lot, with your standard Toyota or Mitsubishi. Are you looking for something a bit more... European?"
"Preferably." Nikolai says to the saleman. "No offense to your American makers, of course. May we take a look?" He asks as he looks further into the lot.
Brian laughs, nodding. "Right this way sir." Leading the Fang further in towards the center, the web of cars gradually turns from American to Japanese to finally European imports. "What type of car are you looking for? We have a great selection of BMWs, Mercedes..."
"Make does not matter much." Nikolai replies as he slows his long stride to begin regarding the various cars. "I would like something... sturdy. Sleek, but not one of those cars that looks like it belongs on the racetracks, do you know what I mean?"
Brian never gets too far ahead when they walk, letting Nikolai browse. The man adjusts a hem while nodding to the Fang's requests, wants. "Well..." he says with a slight smile, "there's definitely the sports car, and then there's the /classy/. Club sport, you know, and I think you might be interested. Let's have a look through the showroom?" He turns a bit more leading the ahroun closer and opening the door up for one of the indoor showrooms of the building. Mercedes S-class, BMWs, Euro-cars of the luxurious side of stickerprices dominate the arena. Off-center, a silvery grey Maserati Gransport glimmers beneath floodlights that send pinpoints shining off its freshly waxed exterior, 19 inch black rubber wheels with small red Trident logos on each hub... a beauty. "This way," Brian motions, indeed heading for that very vehicle.
Nikolai takes his time to carefully browse the indoor cars, passing by the various brands with either looks of interest or dismissal. He's apparently not one to be wishy-washy about buying something. Tilting his head slightly, he spies the car the salesmen heads for and hms. "I knew someone with one of that brand before. Italian, is it not?"
"Yessir, Italian made. This is the Maserati GranSport," Brian introduces, focusing upon the ahroun's manner towards the various cars of the showroom. "Comes with standard 4.2 liter V8 engine that puts out 400 horsepower, gets 300 footpounds of torque at 4500 RPM... anti-lock brakes, traction control..." The salesman lists off nice features, all the while watching for interest. "So, what do you think? Feel like impressing the ladies with this beauty?" The coupe looks spotless, showing off its good side at every angle.
Nikolai chuckles quietly in the back of his throat as his thumbs hook into his pockets. "A car might help, but it is not always everything. So, is this all standard or are there other options? I imagine this is the only one you have."
What humor there is in Brian shows itself with the askance after options, which launches him into even /more/ features for the Gransport. Not once does he mention the pricetag attached, though it's there on the window, listed with the rest of base MSRP. "Ah... and this is our one and only show model, yes. Though, to be honest, we don't have too many clients of such caliber and taste as yourself that drop by without a forewarning. If I'd known you were coming, I'd have called the warehouse ahead of time! Hahaha."
Nikolai utters a brief chuckle, gesturing slightly with one hand. "I was not entirely planning on stopping by, else I may have. It is alright. The color is nice, I am partial to silver myself. I take it the warrenties and safety are satisfactory?"
"Absolutely," Brian affirms, motioning for them to continue on towards the desks. "Let's go over here and I can draw up a prospective payment plan for the vehicle." He's all smiles, working around the 'fish' that is the Fang.
Nikolai follows after the salesman as his hands cross across his chest. Such a man shopper. Looks, sees something he likes, buys it - no time wasted. He takes a seat at Brian's desk, pulling up one of the cushy padded chairs.
Brian busies himself with extracting a number of forms from the stacked tray on his desk, all this time attempting to maintain that precious eye contact but somehow finding it harder to look at the scarred ahroun's face without outright staring. Clearing his throat once, though, he recovers along, ignoring the mild prickles of ..excitement? Fear? "There are a few ways that we can do this, but feel free to choose which might work best for you..." Outlining various options of payment, the salesman details the basics without going into the more negative parts of these deals. Then he turns the papers around so that Nikolai can read through them. "Which do you feel suits you?"
"I have some other large purchases to make, so I can not afford to freeze up all of my finances for a car." Nikolai says as he picks up the papers, reading through the fine print with a close eye and studyin things some as down payments. "It takes me time to wire money, as I am sure you know."
Nodding, Brian tilts his head to check out the papers a touch, and looks back up to the ahroun. "Well then, Mr. Petrov, might I recommend the 5 year plan... if you are planning to, ah, consider the nearby neighborhood as a place of residence for your future, then we wouldn't need to worry about such things like time." Sure as a silver-tongued snake, the salesman points out to the Fang that option. There are others, both long and short by years.
"My housing options will need to be cared for soon, and it will not be the cheap condos nearby." Though truth be told, any condo in the city is not cheap at all. "I am fine with it taking longer, at least until my other purchases have been done."
Brian smiles, a firm confidence working its way back to his expression. "Well then, should we consider that 5-year plan then? Or perhaps longer if you feel like your finances would be... stretched?" He turns to the computer on the desk, typing in some quick articles of information. "Can I get your driver's license or a sort of ID?"
Nikolai reaches into his back pocket and withdraws his wallet. There's a few cars, a good wad of money, and two ID's. One obviously foreign but the other is perfectly legal, a Washington liscence that looks very new and is passed across the desk. "Longer will work for now. Later, when things are settled, I can increase payment."
The Washingotn license is inputted in, and more ministrations follow as Brian performs credit checks and other things. "Certainly," Brian continues, processing. "Then if I can just get you to sign a few of these forms and fill these out... we'll get you your new Maserati in a little under a week." The man smiles again. "How's that sound?"
His credit is impeccable, all considering. He has three bank accounts, two of them Russian and one co-owned. The other is through an American company. Though the price is high, he was too well brought up to Rage-bully the man into lowering it, though the idea is tempting. With one long last check on figures and catches, the Garou nods. "Very good."
"Excellent." Brian mentions, though what he's saying as excellent is a bit vague. It could be the impeccable credit report. It could be the sheer rush of landing a huge deal. "And I must say, Mr. Petrov, I really hope you enjoy your new car and the city." When all the paperwork and electronics are filed, the salesman stands up to offer his hand out and shake. He's near giddy, but still professional. This will be one to tell the coworkers about - particularly those that are looking towards him and Nikolai as they show some other customers the latest models of much more affordable quality.
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