1963-07-30 - Introductions at the Club
Summary: Two young up and coming ladies make their way into the hellfire club, looking for a night of fun.
Related: none
Theme Song: None
emma rogue wasp 


The Hellfire Club. It has many layers, like an onion. One layer is a respectable, if…select…club for refined and sophisticated tastes. Another layer is a debauched den of inquity for millionares, politicians and business leaders, a place where generals and men like the Starks can cozy up for business contracts and backroom deals. Another layer is for taking over the world.

But those are layers very deep indeed.

Tonight, it is a relatively laid back, elitist country-club. Men play poker in backrooms. Others relax around fine leather chairs and discuss politics or the weather. Some play chess, or eat lavish meals made by gourmet chefs. There is dancing and singing in a backroom, and a small live band currently plays. A gentlemen's club - the Good Old Boy's club, so to speak, where the glass ceiling is rigoriously enforced. And thats just the outermost, most public layer.

But not all things are as they appear. Hovering above that class ceiling is Emma Frost, not that the average guest would notice. She's arranging for the needs of various clients, overseeing the various waitresses and hostesses and staff while giving a personal touch to the odd general or congressman. Meanwhile, of course, she's pouring through the minds of those here…those who matter…looking for their secrets for future use.

"Of course general, I'll see to it she brings out another bottle of wine." She smiles a fake, cold smile and turns away, dealing with another minor problem.

Security here is very tight indeed, on the level of Xavier's, really - and there are guards at the front door checking ID's. Of course, those guards answer to Emma.

*

Janet Van Dyne has been having a starring role in tabloids since her famous scientist of a father Vernon Van Dyne was murdered. Mostly lamenting how his playful daughter is wasting his fortunes away on self pampering, luxury, and her silly fashion pursuits. Although she did recently garner more of a name for herself in the fashion world with her latest line of clothes. Point being, she's likely identified even without reaching for her Hellfire Club membership card, as she approaches the front door and flirtatiously finger waggles at the guards, "good evening boys, hope there's a fun crowd tonight," a brilliant smile flashed here and there and if needed a flash of her membership card as well, before she makes her way inside.

Janet's very first act is to wave over a waitress, "honey, do you mind getting an Old Fashioned my way? I'm parched," Janet laughs and enters further into the club, her eyes sparkle as they sweep the room for potential flirtation targets. She's out for fun.

One thing Janet is unaware of at this very young point of her dual life, is that there are telepaths out there, and should Emma happen to scan over Janet's mind, she could wind up discovering that Janet has been moonlighting as an as of yet little known hero, the Winsome Wasp.

*

What layer enchants a girl who defines the mod look? It may be the one that prizes wealth and youth as a measure of power, instead of sociopolitical influence that spans continents. A scratch along the surface might be enough to reflect the intangible mirth of a pretty young thing, all grace and sunny radiance.

Slipping throuh the security was never in the cards. At some level she knows how the game goes, that young woman wrapped in a Sicilian blood orange dress. Waiting in line to receive a blessing of the security constitutes no bother, and she surrenders a purse barely large enough to contain lipstick, folded bills, and her state ID. Arabella Telfair Astor, address for Barnard College, the salient details are lifted easily enough. Quite unlike the shining woman with her very own membership card, she doesn't try to flirt. Manners level. Does she meet with their satisfaction? If so, she takes back her purse and slips past with a murmured word of distant thanks that could be comfortable in upscale Savannah circles as much as New York's jetset.

If not, then so be it. She gazes up through dark lashes and inquires politely whilst not. Doubtful that entirely she should present any profound interest by name alone — the Astor clan is rather well-connected, old, and large but she isn't the Viscountess or Honourable Arabella Astor. On the other hand, Emma might find that space a crystalline mindfield for a casual pursuit, like hitting cracked and broken ice.

*

Security lets both through - the young Van Dyne scion because of her card, the college student for….non-obvious reasons. The guards are about to refuse her entry, but then let Astor in, glancing at her ID a second time and flagging her through. Once they are in, the club opens up and an aray of discerning…and expensive…entertainments are visible. A waitress, wearing just a bit too little (nature of the times) is there, smiling and ready to take drink orders. She nods at Janet, and looks towards the Arabella…but then Emma is there, smiling.

"Hello ladies. I'm your hostess, Emma Frost. Or rather, I'm in charge of the hostesses. This is Georgina, she'll be your waitress for the evening. What can the Hellfire Club do for you?" She smiles warmly, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes.

*

"Emma Frost…? Mistress of the Hostesses?" Janet asks playfully, her own smile as opposed to Emma's is quite genuine and captivating, she truly seem to love life, especially when she's about to have some good time at the highly regarded Hellfire Club. It takes her a moment to register Emma was talking in plural, before turning to look at Rogue and gasping, "oh my stars you look spectacular! Let me see, do a little twirl for me, would you?" Janet, to those who don't know, is quite the extrovert, readily striking conversation with total strangers, "that dress is superb!"

Distracted a second time when Emma asks what the Hellfire Club can do for them, Janet grins, "if the lady won't mind, I'll have us share a table…the Hellfire Club never fails when it comes to leaving drab daily life behind for some jolly good time."

*

The redhead offers the waitress a polite smile, observing her with a particular transparency that might be an act or very much her dismissal of those beneath a certain point. "A Boulevardier, please. Sharp on the vermouth." Then her gaze lifts over the round sunglasses upon her nose, a pair she pushes up to her hairline like an ancient coronet or gable hood with the point of her finger. "Ms. Frost? Enchanted." Someone might make that sound facetious; she means it, by all hints in her tone. Dipping her head slightly, her smile lifts almost by reflex faced with the statuesque blonde. "Thank you for such a warm greeting."

Scarlett to her friends, Arabella Astor to this set, makes an impression in those delicious boots intended purely to stir up conversation. She pirouettes for Janet's pleasure, and the floating concoction ripples around her in a wave of Venetian copper. The sleeves tug and her circle ends facing Janet. "You know it's a sin to drink alone. Stake out a table for two and see what kind of excitement the night holds?" she asks lightly, the offer made easily enough.

*

Emma just -looks- at the Waitress, and she rushes off to get the drinks, while Emma tilts her head. "That might work as a title, yes." she says to Janet. "I have others, however. We tend to be less of a business and more of a family around here. This is a very special sort of place. If you need anything, just ask anyone. Follow me, I think I have a booth for the two of you." She leads the two girls to a semicircular and well-cushioned booth, and points a few feet away, across an empty space to a nearby table. "Those two young men are very polite and handsome…and as you'll note, entirely alone. Unless your looking for a girl's night out?" And obviously wealthy. Thats HFC service for you.

*

"I quite agree! Let us sit together," Janet nods at the wouldbe Ms. Astor, as they set to follow Emma's lead to a fine cushoined booth, slipping inside, Janet moves along the semi-circular design of the booth to sit at the center, back pressing into the back support. "Oooh, handsome and polite? That's why this club is the finest," she looks aside at Ms. Astor, "what say you? Shall we have handsome men to keep us company, or would you rather tell me where in the world did you get that lovely dress? And the boots? Don't tell me you design your own fashion…do you?" Janet of course would love to meet a colleague, even if by happenstance. Looking over at Emma, Janet asks her, "what do you make of her dress? Isn't it the most unique you've ever seen?" Janet isn't talking about quality or worth, she's talking about the out of this world design, quite ahead of its time. Then again, there are those who would find it silly or tasteless. Janet isn't one of those.

*

Scarlett falls in step alongside Janet, her pace measured to match the fashion designer's and not overtake their hostess. "Virtues sure to please our mothers," she murmurs sotto voce, an exaggerated slant of her eyes deflating the notion of their parents no doubt giving a care. "Good looks can make up for plenty of other deficiencies, but never being a boor. We are lucky." Her mouth lifts into a smile equal parts honey and laughter, and she raises her hands lightly to the query. Choices linger entirely on her narrow shoulders, and a trace of her finger along the table's edge lends itself to a decision. "I think if they are interested, they might be caught with a bit of good bait, don't you? Let's talk about you and good dresses, and they'll be here eating out of your hand in no time at all. That's far more interesting than jabbing about with small talk to find a common interest, I think." Barnard produces some ability to think. Think she can.

"I had something of a small hand in this. They wanted to cut it here," she indicates chest-height, inches off an empire waistline, "and leave it sleeveless. Absolutely the worst shape possible and anyone over five feet is never going to get away with it. Imagine trying to walk."

*

"It is a very pretty dress." Emma admits to Janet. "I have a designer who hand-makes dresses for me in residence here at the club, and I prefer hers - but it is a wonderful dress. The best ones are those where you know the designer…" she nods towards Scarlett, "And where you have a say in the style." The waitress comes with the drinks, and sets them down, then stands to the side, slightly. Emma continues, "Did you two girls need something to eat? I'm guessing just the drinks for now, until you know what you'll be doing for the rest of the evening." A sidelong glance at the boys across the way.

*

-— New Activity ---
"Best of both worlds? I facny that, so where did you have it made? I shall like to have some words with them, I am actually a fashion designer myself, and this dress is inspirational…" Janet's voice cannot hide her excitment, as she keeps looking at the fabric of Scarlett's dress, the cut, the selection made in preparation while Scarlett explains her own input. "Quite right, you've made a fine choice…so I'm to understand it is a bold but not well read fashion designer?" Janet asks, before her attention drifts to Emma once more.

"I would assume it's a burden on your time, but if you're not otherwise engaged, we would love your company, Ms. Frost," Janet leaves an offer, it would only be smart to get to know Emma better with her assumed position in the club. "I think I will do fine with liquid, it makes the evening all the more mirthful," winking playfully as she studies one of the fine men Emma pointed at earlier, she quips, "maybe I'll find something to please the palete as the evening progresses…"

*

"Both of you are too kind. It takes a skilled eye to recognize quality." Had she the drink already then Scarlett would raise it in a wordless toast to Emma and Janet, though instead she dips her head at a subtle inclination. Only then the waitress arrives and her cocktail placed upon the table, the dark wash of alcohol floated by the bourbon it contains. "A little place on the Cote d'Azur, in the south of France. I can't remember whether the designer is originally Italian or merely French with Italian history but somehow the details work. I can pass on the information," she says warmly, feeding into that excitement and reflecting it back. "You design your own pieces? That must be delightful and maddening, the act of creation and forcing the fabric to fit your vision."

Yes, she's found a fast sartorial friend among the libertine in a satsuma gown and neroli perfume. She purses her lips and then turns to Emma, hands raised apologetically. "Forgive me, Ms. Frost. So often all I have the pleasure to talk about with other girls are the men they're trying to marry or the fundraiser they're organizing. Someone suitably intelligent and spirited is like another drink to me. Please don't let us be an unwanted distraction if you have anything important to do."

*

"I have a Russian general about to get quite drunk three booths over…" Emma muses, "But I think he can hold for awhile. The congressman's wife doesn't seem entirely displeased with the situation. He should really pay more attention to her." She snaps her fingers at the waitress to get a move on, and slips in. "Yes, I do understand the dillema. Its even worse with the men. Hard to get a good conversation out of them when they are obsessed with sports and gambling. But if you know how to handle them, it just lets you wrap them around your finger." Emma Frost doesn't have the highest opinion in the world of the intelligence of men. Some of them are bright. Some of them…are not. Many of the ones who are not hang out at her club, after all.

*

With her drink arriving, Janet takes a sip, closing her eyes without meaning to as she savours the fine alcohol served at the Hellfire Club, and the expert hands making these elixirs, "mmmm…now that's quality," Janet muses to herself, and as she listens to the exchanges she nods at Scarlett, "it is a struggle some days, but triumphs are rejuvinating, plus, I can always design what's on my mind without having to explain it to a third party," Janet grins, and starts to slide out of the circular booth along with her drink, stopping by Emma as she says, "excuse, Ms. Frost, but I think I'll try and dabble in the art of swaying men as you suggest, I could do with handsome company tonight," she winks with her intention as she moves over to the two gentlemen Emma recommended earlier as good company.

*

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