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Janet returned Scarlet call about Marie-Ange, the model from France that she got to meet. After a brief discussion along with Marie-Ange, they've settled on a date. If they had any problems with transportation, Janet would send her limo to pick them up. She is currently in the lounge, the table besides her holds tea, wine and several glasses for her guests to have their pick when they arrive.
*
The model in question better have a good winter coat, even if it's somewhat vintage. Otherwise Scarlett may have words, all things said and done. In the aftermath of a world changed, where Walter Cronkite addressed the nation, and leadership spins through a different chain of command, New York seems something of a strange place. Better to go by bus or foot than trust in snarling cages of steel and rubber, at least as far as the somewhat withdrawn bohemian is concerned. Scarlett will navigate them to the appointed meeting spot without difficulty, relying on the practiced knowledge of someone constantly taking buses, subway lines, and the odd cab to get around. A moment is spent reviewing her appearance in a little compact mirror, and she practices a smile for a few seconds before blitzing in. "There. That shall do, I think." Smile intact, albeit not too sunny for the grief of liberty, she ushers them into Janet's presence. Fingertips dabble in a polite wave when she spots Janet, heading in that way.
*
This was one of the first meetings that Scarlett had set up for Marie; and it was one that the French girl was definitely excited about. Excited enough to leave the apartment for the first time in days, whereas before she had been hesitant to even leave her room due to the dark cloud that was looming around her readings.
It helped that today's reading had the first good omen in nearly a week, too.
Yes, Marie /is/ wearing a winter coat — she made sure to grab one that would protect her from the winter's weather, a black number that enveloped her form from her collar to nearly her ankles. The girl is nothing if she isn't practical. While said coat does obscure her physique, her movements — walking a couple steps behind Scarlett, as she commonly does — certainly have a particular grace to them, each footfall measured carefully. "Is that…?" she asks Scarlett in a whisper, green eyes quietly peering at Janet.
*
Janet smiles faintly when Scarlet and Marie-Ange are escorated inside to the lounge, something is clearly on her mind, as she looks distracted when she turns to greet them. "Scarlet," and then she looks at Marie as she gets up, "Marie-Ange I presume? I'm Janet van Dyne, very pleased to meet you," she gestures at the seats by the table with the treats, "please, have a sit, have some tea, wine, whatever you like. How was the trip to Westchester?"
Janet does have a discerning eye and she seems pleased with the looks of the two women, their manner of dress, and specifically how Marie-Ange carries herself. "So you've worked some catwalks in France, have you?"
*
Marie-Ange draws Seven Swords.
*
Scarlett's braided hair sets her apart, a design not used widely in at least a thousand years. It falls down her back, hitting her tailbone, studded by the traditional blossoms of grief. Her neroli scent lies soft upon the skin along with a trace of leather and sandalwood, giving a subdued, dreamy spice to her citrus laced presence. Her head dips at Janet's question, and she says, "Miss van Dyne, if I may present Mademoiselle Colbert to you?" She takes a seat after Marie, and does so positioned to focus upon the exits, not an obvious habit, but subtle nonetheless.
Still, it would be rude not to partake of her favourite thing on earth, nearly. "Tea would be delightful." With her rather English lilt warming honeyed words, it's only reasonable she would think that way. If she isn't from Britain, she is assuredly from the highest echelons of the South where they pretend to be English. "I travel out this way fairly often. Traffic was quite subdued." She tips her head back slightly, and allows her companion to answer for herself. Just seeing Marie animated and out is some consolation to the world being tipped on its head.
*
As usual, Marie's first check is going to be with her cards; they've been tucked into one of the pockets of the coat; the Seven of Swords. A card that speaks of secrets and lies, but when dealing in employment situations? It means that your work must be beyond reproach. This meant honesty was most important in this encounter.
Janet is greeted with a smile - the girl lives and dies by her cards, so if they read well, she feels good about life. Even under the circumstances. Being a national of another country helps, too. "Enchante, Mademoiselle van Dyne." Marie speaks, her voice tinged with that accent that paints her upbringing well.
There's a glance at the table of treats; there's temptation — but a clear head is most important here. "Tea for me as well, I think." she agrees, business comes first, and tea /is/ delightful… and then come the questions. Honesty required, honesty given. "The trip was lovely; the country here is beautiful in a way the city cannot replicate." …as for the catwalks? There's a bit of a shake of her head. "Non, this is not something I have done before, but is something Scarlett seems to believe I would do well?" There's the briefest of glances over to the bohemian briefly for reassurance on that note.
*
"Good, I'm glad everything went smoothly," Janet moves to pour some tea for Scarlett, delaying a moment as she shifts the full cup towards Scarlett's side of the table, "will you have some, Mademoiselle Colbert? It's Jasmine from the Orient, quite delectable and soothing." She does proceed to pour Marie-Ange a cup as well, before eventually sitting down. Taking a moment to straighten her dress as she reaches for her own cup. Closing her eyes, she takes a good whiff of the tea's aroma, before reaching to sip, and looking visibly relaxed as she does. "Ah…"
She then opens her eyes and nods, "so, new to the job, that's all good, you have a natural gait. Fabulous. Most take time to study. Have you been watching models at work? Have you been to shows?" She flashes a smile at Scarlett, trusting in the woman's instincts.
*
Safely presume upon the copper-tressed bohemian setting upon that tea like a hummingbird gifted by a particularly nectar-rich flower. She nearly vibrates as joyously at the idea of a proper tea, and her fingers curl gratefully upon the mug Janet offers. "I shall have to tempt you to reveal your sources for something so fragrant. Jasmine is exactly the sort of uplifting flavour that this day calls for." Pleasure rises to the surface of her quiet voice, lending a warmth desperately needed, as much as she leaches whatever joys might be distilled out of a good blend. It is profound; her heart soars to the first sip, and then resolves into calm.
The conversation will pour around her, but she remains attentive to the least current and high nuance, reading body language as easily as some hear a second language. The paused look at the treats warrants a second pause, and then she reaches out to take one. Might as well use the excuse of her mouth being full, right? The nibble around the edges is mannered, and she times her dining to when Janet and Marie are busy with one another. This is a girl who will absolutely stop eating if eyes are on her.
"New York has not hosted its fashion week," she laments, "though I have taken her through East Village and Greenwich Village, where we spend much time. She's seen the vintage shows and the up and coming works in Brooklyn, especially those inspired by Lady Duff Gordon. Oh, I know she is quite the previous century, but there is an elegance to her lines that suits one as gamine as ma cherie." She flashes an encouraging smile towards her French companion. "Besides, with you, style is your birthright and in the blood. You could wear a gunny snack and you would look fabulous. Styles worn on the street, the way ideas come together, is more of an education of learning to see the city and decide what works."
*
"Oui," Marie replies easily as the tea is offered to her, taking her seat in a dainty manner, and the cup afterwards. Her motions carry the refinement she learned growing up; both those years being part of a wealthy family… to the years spent in the convent where the lessons were drilled with the business end of a ruler. She serves as a mirror to the other women, taking in the aroma of the tea as if it could wash away any fretting she may desire to do before taking a sip herself. "Magnificent." she agrees.
Scarlett's quicker to the punch regarding Marie's studies of the arts of fashion and modelling, and the youngest of the women bows her head demurely as her friend explains. "Oui; Mademoiselle Scarlett has taken me to see much of your country's great culture…. she has been an invaluable resource in helping me become accustomed here."
*
"We shall first see how famously we get along when there are no ruffians causing trouble in kitchens," Janet winks playfully at Scarlett's request for her source, before a visible twitch in her eyes and arms can be noted. She did not like to reflect on the horrid news, and yet, she's so boiling inside, she's almost tempted to lecture to poor Scarlett.
"You're far too sweet," Janet remarks at Scarlett's flattery, before focusing her attention on Maire-Ange. "Splendid posture," Janet notes as she observes Marie's dainty manner in holding her cup, and going through a most ladylike sipping fashion. "You're fortunate to have a friend like her. Do you mind if I call you by first names? No need for formalities, I assure, I'm just Janet…" and then she turns to look at Rogue, "you know, if the Avengers weren't disbanded, the President Kennedy may have still been alive. This just goes to show what folly it was, giving in to the soviets!"
*
The first comment gets a bit of an arched brow from Marie. Ruffians in the kitchens? … there was clearly a story there, but there was /always/ a story. That was the way of the city, she's found. Normal didn't really happen there, and if it did? That was newsworthy enough in and of itself.
…and yes, Marie /has/ noticed that Scarlett tends not to eat when eyes are upon her. Which is one big reason that her visual attention's fully on Janet — the other being that Janet's the one she was brought to meet, of course!
The compliment brings a rosy color to Marie's cheeks; giving some contrast to her otherwise porcelain skin. "I agree completely. Fate was kind to me in finding her." Pause. "Oui, you most certainly may, Mademo— Janet." A pause, and she tries again slower. "Janet." … the accent doesn't allow proper pronunciation, so there's a mild look of apology from Marie. Then a blink. "Aveng… OH!" The name 'Avengers' didn't quite strike a chord with Marie at first; but… "The 'superheroes' Monsieur Tony spoke of. I am sure they would have tried their best." Then there's a sadness that creeps into her voice. "Maybe even prolonged your President's life for a brief time, but… the ending to his story, it had already been written. Truly, I am sorry for your country's loss. From what I have known, he was a good man."
It was written days ago. The cards had confided this fact in her, and even though she didn't know the specifics, she knew it was coming.
*
"Don't mind the accent, I think it's lyrical, I quite like it," Janet says with a warm smile to Marie-Ange when she notes her slight embarassment at failing to pronounce her name correctly. "The Avengers could have for once avenged, at the very least…we shall see who is behind this assassination. Wouldn't surprise me in the least if it's the very Soviets he was so keen to cow to."
*
Then there's compliments again, and they again bring redness to Marie's cheeks — a shade or two deeper this time. "Oh! Well… merci beaucoup, Janet." she manages, flashing a smile once more. "I am certain that they could have, if the stories that I have heard are true." A pause, and there's a bit of curiousity that catches her eyes. "You seem very… what is the word… wise in these events. Do you know what happened to make them disband, Janet?"
*
Janet reclines against the back support of her seat, crossing her legs, left over right as she brings her tea cup to her lips for another calming sip. "I do," she answers short and to the point, not mincing words about it, offering a simple, "Soviets had their way."
*
Let's assume, for sake of politeness, that Scarlett has made a point of munching very slowly upon that indulgent sweet, and possibly sought another between the consolation of tea. The very sweetness needs the jasmine to elevate her palate and cleanse out the underlying saccharine bliss. It also means she need not interrupt the ongoing conversation between her fellow clotheshorses. This particular moment does not call for interruption, at least not entirely, though those surreal green eyes absolutely take in everything with rapt focus. "I would caution you both on the matter of the President's death," she says quite simply after a pause.
It was, after all, a very long break in the conversation. There is reason for it. "The policeman shot dead in Times Square a week ago was struck down by some ghastly burns, and he changed shape from a human to an alien in front of our eyes." Her gaze is hooded, her expression thoughtful. "I was close enough his blood burnt my lungs, Janet. It's quite possible whoever they claim is responsible for this is similarly capable of taking on human shape. It might have sounded absurd a month ago, but in light of events witnessed firsthand? Skullduggery in ways we never imagined could be the tip of the iceberg. We heard the president's speech on television and the radio. He said we were adopting a stance of peace to contact with outsiders. It could be they want to brew fear on a war footing. But then just as many humans have reason to want to harm someone."
*
The tone has definitely grown more serious, and it's a fact that makes Marie withdraw a little more into herself. Focusing her attention more on the tea, now. Or trying to. But then the aliens are brought back into the fold. Soviets? That's an understandable concern. Even in her sheltered life, she knew about /them./ The others? Those are a fright of a different nature altogether.
"If they wish for fear… they have almost certainly gained it. Aliens revealed. Our most public of protectors unraveled. Now the President… it worries the mind to consider what may come next." …and there's a part of her that's scared to look.
*
Janet takes on a somber visage when Scarlett gets heavier into the details, and noting Marie-Ange not taking well to the shift in conversation, she puts down her cup of tea. "Indeed, things are more complex than they would seem at a glance, ladies, shall we discuss fashion?" The way a jovial lilt appears in her voice reveals just how much she loves the topic.
*