11850/Drowning in Luxury

Drowning in Luxury
Date of Scene:	02 July 2022
Location:	The Public House - Hellfire Club
Synopsis:	Tessa and Marie-Ange indulge in blatant food-porn while discussing how best to use one's time on Earth.
Cast of Characters:	Tessa, Marie-Ange Colbert

---

Tessa has posed:
An e-mail from Tessa Fox to Marie-Ange Colbert is always a fairly succinct thing. Usually, the most personality conveyed in them is the notation that they were sent from her mobile device. (The literal text is 'Sent from my mobile device.') The e-mail invites Marie-Ange to dinner at the Public House. There is a date and a time and no other details.

When Marie-Ange arrives, she's escorted to the large dining table which, under most circumstances, has a placard upon it reading 'Reserved for Members of the Board.' There are twelve seats at the long table. There is currently one occupant. Tessa sits wearing a chic, backless couture gown in royal purple. Her hair is expertly up-done, although in a style slightly more contemporary than the Victorian curled-in crown of a bun that she sported when she and Marie-Ange last met.

A singer is on the small stage, accompanied by spare guitar and hand-drums. The singer is singing in Portuguese, and the overall sound is a gently jazzy bossa nova. The sound is understated, meant to be a background element, wallpaper. Few are actively watching the musicians.

Marie-Ange Colbert has posed:
Marie-Ange Colbert has found herself paying more and more attention to her phone without thinking about it. She was never quite a major user, having been denied access to the wonderful world of smartphones when in a tony French boarding school, and in her later years there were other things to pursue.

And yet -

This sort of thing is why.

"Dinner?" Marie-Ange blurts in her miniscule apartment. Someone in the adjacent apartment bangs on the wall with a shoe. It is unclear to Marie-Ange whether this is a command or an entertainment.

Either way: Marie-Ange arrives in a clean LBD, unaccented save for the same little designer purse she has had in the past. It is a sucker's bet to ask 'did she bring tarot cards to a dinner invitation' because, obviously, she did; but she does not draw them out. She arrives approximately ninety seconds early -- though Tessa could probably tell she dithered in the vestibule for a few moments.

"Good evening, Miss Fox," she says as she approaches: "Thank you very much for your invitation!" Her hands come together with a little 'clap' she probably did not intend to make. She does not sit down instantly.

Tessa has posed:
While Marie-Ange is walking toward the table, Tessa is staring off into the middle distance. Her expression is completely blank. She looks like an idle animatronic in designer clothes, waiting for something to trip its motion sensor.

When Marie-Ange is close enough, in the space of an eye-blink Tessa has come to life. She's gone from blank to smiling. Her eyes have gone from faraway to friendly. She seems like a living, breathing, Real Girl.

"Good evening, Miss Colbert," Tessa replies. She motions toward the chairs. There are eleven to choose from. Tessa is at the head of the table (or perhaps the foot). "Please, have a seat."

Marie-Ange is ninety seconds early. One hundred and fifty seconds later, a server appears. This young woman is blonde and tan and wearing a Hellfire Club uniform. During the day, members of the public can pay fifty bucks and get in. It's not the day anymore. There's no need to dress for the mores of the rabble.

It might be noted that the server's Hellfire Club uniform, while looking expensive and lovely, is a far sight less luxurious than Tessa's was. The effect is more of a Victorian Playboy Bunny thing.

The woman has one menu in hand. She sets it down before Marie-Ange. No prices are listed anywhere. On the back are wines and cocktails.

"Please, order what you like," Tessa says to Marie-Ange. "The kitchen staff has already received my order. An appetizer will be out shortly." Tessa looks to the blonde, then. "I will have a Sazerac to drink, please. Thank you."

Marie-Ange Colbert has posed:
The effect is subtle and eerie. It makes Marie-Ange anxious, subtly, as well as touching several other more complicated aspects of her personality. But she has the deportment to keep it off of her face, if not necessarily every subtle quarter of her mind. "Thank you, thank you," she says more casually, and sits.

Was I waiting for her permission? Marie-Ange thinks once her bottom is firmly seated. What!!

The server arrives. Marie-Ange can see her. She folds her hands on the tabletop, still undecorated by food, and smiles at her; the outfit gets a saccading glance from her eyes, but she has been, it seems, to enough events that it isn't making her fluster and melt down.

"Merci," she says, holding the menu and looking to Tessa. "Oh? How - lovely, thank you-" And then down to the menu. Options. Choices. What if you choose wrong?

The thought of asking Tessa what she recommends crosses Marie-Ange's mind, but it reaches the far shore unengaged. "-- The lamb chop; just a half-portion, if you don't mind, and a bit of --" A quick scan, "Bourdeaux if I might? Thank you so much." The menu is duly surrendered, if wished for.

"It's quite an honor to sit here, though I suppose it may only be the two of us?" Marie-Ange asks. Wondering.

Tessa has posed:
"Indeed," Tessa says to Marie-Ange. "Only the two of us, tonight. I think with our new arrangement in place, it feels proper to celebrate a bit... and allow you a chance to better get to know the pleasures of the Hellfire Club."

If Marie-Ange wanted, she could set a timer. Tessa has ordered a cocktail that, to be done the purist's way, requires two chilled glasses to properly mix. Of course it will be prepared the purist's way. The server has bowed her head toward Marie-Ange -- like Marie-Ange is SOMEBODY -- and gone back to put in the order. She takes the menu with her.

"Did you know that the Sazerac is the official cocktail of New Orleans?" Tessa asks. She looks around the Public House. "This place always makes me think of Charles Dickens' 'American Notes.' Have you read it?" Without really waiting for a proper answer, Tessa quotes, "'The bar is a large room with a stone floor, and there people stand and smoke, and lounge about, all the evening: dropping in and out as the humour takes them. There too the stranger is initiated into the mysteries of Gin-sling, Cock-tail, Sangaree, Mint Julep, Sherry-cobbler, Timber Doodle, and other rare drinks.'" She flashes a little smile at the end.

By the time Tessa has gotten to the Timber Doodle, drinks and appetizer are served. The appetizer is... French fries? Big, thick-cut chips-style ones. Except these are /luxury/ French fries. They're blanched with Dom Perignon champagne, and decorated with a mixture of Guerande Truffle Salt, truffle oil, Crete Senesi Pecorino Tartufello cheese, shaved black summer truffles from Italy, truffle butter, organic A2/A2 100% grass fed cream from Jersey Cows, Gruyere Truffled Swiss Raclette that has been aged for 3 months, and so on. They don't look like French fries anymore. They look like potatoes evolved into opulence.

As the drinks are set down, and small plates for each woman, Tessa motions toward the dish. "Please," she says. "I insist. I hope that you forgive me for my selection, but I indulged a moment of humor."

Marie-Ange Colbert has posed:
Marie-Ange's face colors a little, but she smiles; she even rests one elbow, JUST on the edge of the table, with her cheek in her hand. "I did not," Marie-Ange murmurs about the fact, but then Tessa continues to speak.

Marie-Ange finds herself smiling a little more - it seems she did not read the book, although she recognizes the author. "It's terribly evocative," she says. "And this was in New Orleans, then, or simply... in America?"

Somehow, SOMEHOW it's wistful. And this is when Marie-Ange really looks down at the fries, having not looked away from Tessa while she spoke as everything was going crisp and precise and there was no need to worry further. She stares in silence at the frites for several moments. She takes in a deep breath.

"I - humor?" she says, raising a hand on reflex - before instead selecting one of the forks on the place setting and gently drawing several fries onto her plate. "I'm afraid I don't quite follow, but these are terribly luxurious. I can smell the truffle quite clearly -- I hardly dare to eat them--"

She does, though.

Her eyes mist over slightly as the crisp length of hot vegetable with its silky envelope lands upon her tongue.

Tessa has posed:
"Dickens wrote those words about Boston, actually," Tessa says. "I truly can only guess what Dickens would have made of New Orleans." She grins, and has a sip of her Sazerac. (Cognac, absinthe, a sugar cube, Peychaud's bitters.)

Once Marie-Ange has sampled the wares, Tessa reaches out to take one. "French fries, Miss Colbert. French fries." She makes her eyebrows jump to underline the joke that much further. There are no supple leather gloves worn today. Her jewelry is low-key, in the way that many people with money understand that it's not always about the biggest or the flashiest piece, it's about other people with money recognizing the brand. The simple gold hoops around her wrists are elegant. No rings. Purple fingernails.

After dipping and eating her own steak fry, Tessa arches a dark eyebrow, watching Marie-Ange. "Your verdict?"

Marie-Ange Colbert has posed:
Marie-Ange hasn't been to New Orleans yet in her life. An error which shall be rectified some fine day. But not this day, nor night.

She pauses at the statement and her eyes close for a moment, staying that way for several seconds, as if to communicate 'I get it. I don't like it, but I get it,' before opening again, her eyes focusing on Tessa again. Simpler: precise. But not that different, ultimately.

Another deep breath as she swallows. "Well," she says, "I would define it simply as - magnifique, if I must have only one word. They are delectable and rich, so rich that I almost feel ashamed to eat them. Almost," she adds, picking up another but not yet biting in. "This combination, though...! It reminds me almost of poutine, but in the same way a stick figure drawing reminds one of the Mona Lisa!" THEN she eats.

Tessa has posed:
"Don't fill up too much," Tessa says. She eats in a much more methodical way. There's something subtly off about it, but what makes the difference is that with Tessa, there's never any wasted motion. Her hand never hovers over the dish to select a fry. She never stumbles attempting to pick up one and then grabs another. Her arm and hand only move when she knows exactly how and where to move them. When she dips the fries, she's able to turn them in her hand if she needs to. Not a single drop of the dip hits the tabletop.

"The lamb chop you ordered is seasoned with salt and pepper, but also a marinade containing full-fat yogurt, cumin, cardamom, garlic, and lemon." Tessa says this almost like she's a tour guide, or a video telling you how to buckle your seatbelt on an airplane. At the same time, she balances on an impressive tightrope. She comes across too fake to be completely real, and too real to be completely fake. It's impossible to nail her down as being on one side or the other.

"Have you done any interesting readings lately?"

Marie-Ange Colbert has posed:
The note of something near to chiding makes Marie-Ange feel -- something; a sort of complex thrill, an emotional flavor that can't be quantified. She smiles even so, and she does not reach for another piece of the potato afterwards. She says, then, "Oh, it sounds delightful. Very Middle Eastern, I suppose, not simple mint jelly... though of course mint does pay it a good compliment... ah?"

Work. Sort of.

"Today, not much," Marie-Ange says: "I had to attend a lecture. So it was only the morning readings. Good fortune on the train, only a little rain in the afternoon... that court case in the news, I think it will be reversed, or struck down, but it will be something wholly unexpected that does it."

"May I ask you a question, Miss Fox?"

Tessa has posed:
Tessa is drinking while she listens. While Marie-Ange refrains from further potato temptation, she claims another one. While holding the fry, Tessa says: "You may." Then she eats.

Marie-Ange Colbert has posed:
"Have you studied ballet?" Marie-Ange asks.

"The way that you carry yourself is terribly refined," she continues, "but you... do not seem like a ballerina, otherwise!"

Tessa has posed:
Tessa grins. It's another one of those too-perfect grins, like someone would sport in a wall-sized advertisement for a skin-care product. "Only as an amateur," she says. "I picked it up in a week while on vacation in Iceland. Through Youtube, mostly. I've never taken the stage or anything like that."

Marie-Ange could be forgiven for finding that answer baffling. Studying ballet as an amateur: okay, fine. Learning it via Youtube videos: sure? Mastering it in a week, while on vacation, in Iceland of all places: what.

"Aside from your readings, do /you/ have any hobbies, Miss Colbert? What do you do for fun?" As if on cue, entrees are brought out. Marie-Ange's half-portion of lamb chop is just as Tessa promised, marinated in yogurt and spices, laid upon a bed of grilled onions and crosswise-halved seedless oranges (also grilled). Tessa has opted for a 6 oz. serving of steak, which she would no doubt delight in telling Marie-Ange is dry-aged 200 days, cooked over almond wood and Binchotan Japanese charcoal, and seasoned with truffle salt and black pepper.

Marie-Ange Colbert has posed:
Marie-Ange blinks several times, slowly, like the cat. She settles back into her chair, and says, "Iceland?" Sure, that's the important part, Marie-Ange. Iceland. Not the other parts. At this point food arrives, and she must place her attention on the food, hot, sizzling; "Oh!" The fruits' aromatics balancing the powerful savor with the sweet and the acid.

She takes a small, small bite, while also adjusting one of the oranges round to gently 'pop' the seared flesh with her fork, just to see what will happen. "I suppose I don't have a great many hobbies," Marie-Ange admits. "They managed our time quite well, where I studied before I came to America."

Tessa has posed:
"I have great respect for those who know how to properly manage their time," Tessa says, and it might be the understatement of the century. She's just as methodical in cutting her steak as she was with the French fries. "However, time lasts our entire lives."

Tessa eats a bite of steak before she continues her thought. "How we engage with the short-term tends to be quite different from how we engage with the long-term, when we consider how we use our time. In the short-term, research indicates that people focus on concerns such as whether they're maintaining a proper diet or exercise regimen, whether they're working hard enough, whether they have enough money for their immediate needs, and so on."

Tessa has another bite of steak. She is perhaps timing these interruptions to allow time for each point to settle in. "That same research indicates that in the long-term, when people look back at their lives, considering their experience in five or ten years at a time -- or more -- they prioritize the pleasurable experiences, and regret the ones where they missed out or didn't take the plunge."

Tessa has another sip of her cocktail, and then grins. "So, you see, it's actually a crucial component of properly managing one's time to ensure that one carves out time for hobbies, or self-care, or simply doing memorable things."

Marie-Ange Colbert has posed:
Marie-Ange is quiet for long moments. This is for several reasons, not the least of which is mentally translating what Tessa says into French in the back of her head. The statements are clear, though, and crisp, and if there is any distortion it is trivial.

The rest is that she is speaking with such glittering force. (And a little bit is that she also has to cut up her meat; to nibble upon grilled onion and orange.)

"Then I should find hobbies," Marie-Ange ventures, gaze resting on Tessa's own, "or I will surely regret it later; if I understand you correctly."

Tessa has posed:
"It would be a terrible thing for anyone to look back at their life, and consider in retrospect all the fun and fulfillment that they lacked." Tessa summarizes her point neatly, and even says that summary in her perfect, ambiguously-accented French. Her eyes regard Marie-Ange calmly, but her smile is encouraging and warm.

"Perhaps that's something with which the Hellfire Club can help you, Miss Colbert," Tessa says. "I certainly hope that you've already built some treasured memories in your visits here -- new experiences."