It's about midnight. A little after. The duster Hannibal's wearing doesn't really seem enough to keep out the cold but he doesn't seem to notice. Kneeling in the middle of a field, he's poking at the dirt and sniffing the air. After a few moments, he stands back up and looks around before reaching into his duster.
*
For his part, Eddie has had an excellent couple of weeks. Two scoops: not just scoops, but *amazing* scoops. He's going to get the Pulitzer. He just knows it. So he has a lot of energy, and that has him out for a jog through the Central Park at midnight. It is perhaps not the safest place in the world, and Eddie's left hand is missing his smallest two fingers so he is very aware of safety issues, but… this is how you get a scoop. Over his back is a tightly-bound sports backpack. He slows when he nears Hannibal, blinking at the man a moment: what's he up to? Is this a story?
*
Is it a story? Who can say. It's possible, perhaps even probably, that Eddie would realize this is where the hellmouth was. Might even be about the exact center of it. Hard to say at midnight. Hannibal seems to be getting some things from an inside pocket of his coat but it's difficult to say what he's fiddling with. At least until there's a flame and he starts drawing on a cigarette. As he lights up, he turns to look over at the jogger.
*
Yeah, Eddie covered the Hellmouth a bit, though he never quite got close enough to get an exclusive. A missed chance, that. Still, he cocks his head towards Hannibal and offers a tentative smile, "Unlucky spot, that." he notes, "That's just about right where all the trouble went down awhile back. With those… things. Monsters and vampires and whatever else. I wouldn't stay on that spot if I were you, friend."
*
"Was it?" Hannibal asks, though he doesn't sound surprised by that bit of info. An English accent is quite audible. "Well, they say lightning doesn't hit the same place twice so I think I'm safe enough. It doesn't seem like there's anything left to whatever it was that happened."
*
"Actually… that's a terrible saying." Eddie laughs and shakes his head, "Lightning strikes the same place all the time. It might do it more then once in even the same thunderstorm. Lightning takes the path of least resistance to hit the ground, and often that's the same from one time to another. Granted, we're low and there's trees— and skyscrapers— not that far from us, so… but still, its a bad metaphor." That said he nods, "There was a weird blizzard that covered only Central Park and the next day… allt he… things were gone."
*
Hannibal takes a drag on his cigarette and blows a cloud of smoke up into the sky. "I heard that." he agrees. "I'd guess everywhere in the world heard about it. You live here?" he asks, using the cigarette to gesture around. "Did you get to see any of these monsters and vampires and whatever else they were? Anyone figure out how it started?"
*
Stepping closer, Eddie offers his hand, "I'm Eddie Brock, with the Bugle. Believe me, we tried to get to the bottom of it. I got a few stories about the vampires— they killed quite a few people— and there seemed to be someone in charge, or at least, rumor says so. The problem is it wasn't safe enough to get close to get a photo or get a scoop."
*
Hannibal clasps the hand to shake. "Nice to meet you, Eddie. I'm Hannibal King, with just myself. Fortunately, I'm the best company I know. So you're a reporter? Do you think I could get a look at your full stories? I'm curious about what didn't make it to print. I'd be glad to buy you dinner in trade while I read them."
*
Eddie blinks a moment, and then he has to chuckle and gives an easy nod, "Well, sure, why not. I can get the original copy, it's all filed away in the office. Newspapers never throw anything out, not notes, not copy, nothing. You never know when you might want to do a follow-up and need that material again later." The offer to buy him dinner has him looking a little surprised, but he grins, "Gotta be a steak dinner if I'm gonna do this big of a favor for a near-stranger."
*
"Fair enough. Pick your favorite place and we can meet there when you're ready." Hannibal agrees. "But for a steak dinner, I also want to see the stories that didn't make it to print. Plus any notes you have, especially about someone who might have been in charge. I might have missed it all but I can try to satisfy my curiosity through you. Deal?"
*
"I can get you my notes, but I can't get any other reporter's notes— not without being noticed, and getting fired isn't worth a steak dinner." Eddie's grin is easy, though. A bit cocky, really. "But I can get the filed but unprinted copy, too. That's easy, that's all in the records room." he hesitates a moment, then names a certain steakhouse in a good part of town. If he's gonna get a steak and do all this, he's gonna get his money's worth.
*
"Don't do anything that would get you fired." Hannibal tells Eddie. "But as much as you can would be great. We didn't get a lot of information over there and this kind of thing doesn't happen often. Fortunately for us all, right? So what did you learn about this supposed chief vampire?"
*
"I'm not sure it was a vampire, actually. Rumor says it was a woman. I didn't get a lot of information, just that she was supposedly commanding them and could control the weather. Remember the blizzard I mentioned?" Of course, Eddie's information happens to be half wrong, but he wasn't there to fight Morgan. "On that, I'm afraid I just don't have a lot of information. It was too dangerous to get too close to the park, and…" He lifts his left hand up, showing the missing two fingers, "I'm just a guy with a camera."
*
"A woman?" Now that obviously gets Hannibal's interest. "Huh. That I wasn't expecting. Well, whatever you have will be great. It's more than I have at the moment." He nods at the gesture. "Quite right. No news story is worth dying for. Or losing some body parts. How'd that happen?"
*
Eddie frowns a bit, and shakes his head, "This mutant terrorist decided she as mad that people were mean to her, so… uh, made bugs get really huge, and attack and kill a lot of people. Right place right time — or wrong place wrong time — I got pictures and an exclusive with her. Unfortunately, I also lost two fingers. Fucking hurt like hell, I can tell you, but I'm lucky I didn't lose a whole hand, or my life, or… whatever." Fortunately he will be getting a certain suit very soon now and growing them there fingers back.
*
"Well, that sucks. There's worse things to lose but fingers are kind of high on the list of things to keep attached." Hannibal glances down at his cigarette which has burned down over halfway while he forgot about it. Dropping it onto the grass, he steps on it and makes sure it's out. "I need to get going. You can leave a message for me at the Hotel Astor in Times Square. Let me know what day and time and the address of the restaurant and I'll meet you there."
*
"It'll take a day or so, I'll have to xerox some of it as I can't take original copy out of the building. But I'll be in touch." Eddie offers his hand to shake again with a quick grin.