15674/Girl's Night at the Speak Easy

Girl's Night at the Speak Easy
Date of Scene:	21 August 2023
Location:	Lily Anne's Lounge - Hellfire Club
Synopsis:	Janet and Sue go out for drinks and Susan gives Janet some wise advice.
Cast of Characters:	Janet van Dyne, Susan Richards

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Janet van Dyne has posed:
"You know, we don't do this nearly enough," Janet informs Sue. The socialite's dressed for the venue; flapper girl dress in gold and olive, with the tasseled fringe and a large blossom decorating the headband she wears. No flapper girl ever looked so good as Janet did though, wearing world-class diamonds and borrowing a cigarette holder honed from a single piece of black ivory.

"I don't mean the shout-out to the Roarin' Twenties," Janet amends, shifting to face Sue on the narrow barstool. "I mean going out together, getting hammered, painting the town red. It's been positively *ages*," she scolds. "Can you really look me in the eye and tell me things are that much more intersting at Baxter Tower than all--" she gestures around, spilling a few drops from her martini. "--/this/?"

Susan Richards has posed:
For once, Susan's not attending the Hellfire Club for business, either of the Club variety, or as the face of Fantasticorp. And so she can only nod in solemn agreement with a low sigh. Her own attire is a familiar little black dress with a lighter colored mesh '4' upon her chest... which has her throwing occasional glances at Janet like she /knows/ Janet knows it's a reference to a certain costume from her past.

She rolls her eyes and sighs out, "Well, I'm sorry that Earth's first steps into the galactic community keep causing me to reschedule. Believe me, if I could stop people from attacking the spaceport, or not have to deal with organizations trying to smuggle all kinds of things to or from Earth, I'd be happy to have more free time."

Sue shifts and adjusts herself on her own narrow stool, legs crossing, back straightening as she takes a sip from her own Manhattan as she heaves out a sigh. "And I'll have you know I was here /days/ ago, and..." She frowns thoughtfully, "Well, did you know that my son asked that multi-armed multi-dimensional minx Spiral to do /something/ for him?" She frowns slightly, head shaking slowly, "I swear, I think I spent so long thinking Val's idolizing Victor was going to be the problem that Franklin's been out doing god knows what!"

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"Kids are just the /worst/," Janet agrees. "It's why I try not to pry into Nadia's life too much. I'm always glad to be there for her, I wouldn't let *anything* happen to her," she assures Susan. "But sometimes you've just-- gotta trust them to figure it out, y'know? Or at least give them a chance to fail," she amends.

Janet slurps down her drink and beckons the bartender for a refill. "I read that in some Parenting for Dummies book," she admits. The socialite's definitely a bit sloshed on the stiff drinks the Hellfire Club serves. "I still have no idea if I'm doing it right. It's like Franklin," she says, reaching around for her drink to gesture with it. She scowls at the bartender until she realizes he's topping her off, and salutes Sue with the over-full martini.

"Where's that Spiral girl even from?" Janet inquires with a whimsical curiousity. "I tried running her profile through the system and didn't get much. I'm pretty sure she's from an entirely different dimension. What's Franklin doing getting mixxed up with the likes of her?"

Susan Richards has posed:
Sue laughs softly and nods her head, eyes rolling. "This is a fair point. I think I'll pretend I /didn't/ hear about it, and if something goes crazy... well, there are /three other adults/ at the Baxter building who can take a turn cleaning things up."

She drains her own drink as Janet's beckoning to the bartender so she can beckon for her own refill with a soft laugh. "I mean, Nadia seems very responsible. And she's got all those GIRL... girls backing her up, so... I imagine she's fine. They're probably /all/ fine in fact."

Sue groans and shakes her head, "Oh, I tried asking that once and... I did not have enough drinks to sit through the entire explanation. 'Somewhere strange' is about what I remember." She sighs and sips her drink, "I'm not even /sure/, I think it was something about him being attacked by... who even knows? Demons? Time travelers? It was apparently all out in the street, so as long as it's not going to mess around with the living quarters and wreck my stuff I suppose I should just chalk it up as a learning experience for my son. He didn't launch himself to another reality like his father's done before, so... hey, he's got /that/ going for him right?"

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet sips the refill with an almost dainty poise. How she drinks like she does while appearing so sober is something for medical journals to marvel over. Impulsively Janet leans over and gives Susan's bare knee a reassuring squeeze. "Honey, look-- Franklin's not exactly the 'plan ahead' sort, but he's smart enough to reason his way out of any trouble he could possibly get into," she reminds the lissome blonde. "I know Val and Nadia are pretty friendly, but it might not be the worst idea to send Franklin that way, too," she entreats the Invisible Woman. "I've noticed that with that personality type, the best thing you can do is stick them in a room with the same personality. Yeah, once in a while it gets into a big nerdy feedback loop, but most of the time, if one of them is thinking of doing something idiotic, the others keep them from just slapping a Big Red Button. Maybe Franklin needs a safety net of ... kids his age," she suggests. "They're all certainly getting old enough to ignore you an /me/," she says, and harrumphs into her drink.

Susan Richards has posed:
Susan's leg lifts to press her knee into that reassuring squeeze almost without thought, her head rolling back, eyes rolling, "Oh yes, well, 'Not the plan ahead sort' is... If he was going to inherit something from Reed and it /wasn't/ stretching powers..." She clicks her tongue and shakes her head, "That would be it. I, of course, plan ahead meticulously. All the time. Definitely."

She sighs and rolls her eyes, "I know he was looking at the Xavier institute upstate, but I don't actually know if he ever enrolled... and I mean, I'm /sure/ he could meet some kids his own age there."

She snorts and takes another healthy sip of her drink... and unlike Janet, she's /clearly/ feeling the effect with just a bit of sway. "I mean, at this point, anyone who hasn't got a 401k and deeply held opinions on home decor seems like a /kid/ to me. I swear to god, someone brought me a memo at work yesterday and as they were leaving I /actually/ thought 'kids these days' before I even realized it..."

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"We're getting old, hon," Janet tells Sue with a sympathetic expression. Granted there's a significant age gap between the two women, but the peerless self-confidence Janet exudes seems to bridge it quite ably. "Kids will do that to you. Granted, I didn't have to squeeze mine out," she admits, "but still-- you want what's best for them, right?" she entreats.

Janet throws back more of her drink, spinning in her chair with a lazy indifference, and comes to a stop with her temple resting against Sue's shoulder.

"I know I'm not any older, but with Nadia around-- I don't know. I felt like I owed her to do it the best I could. That meant cutting my twenties short so I could Mom for her. You've got to grow up in a bunch of very un-fun ways so you can be there to catch them if-- when," she amends-- "they fall. Sometimes I feel like I'm just faking it by staying a chapter ahead of the assigned reading," she admits. "Good god, I'm almost /thirty/ and I'm still single. What kind of message am I send here?"

Susan Richards has posed:
Susan snorts softly and murmurs out, "Well, hey, there's always a chance of a change. I mean, didn't the Avengers wind up being turned younger for awhile there? I /swear/ I got an email about that... maybe it was just a Facebook post..." She chews her lower lip in faux thoughtfulness.

And snaps and points at Janet with a grin, "Ah! But I got the /good/ drugs for labor... I mean, for real, definitely not actually /that/ good, but..."

She grimaces and downs her drink with the kind of speed and force meant for shots more than cocktails.

And her arm loops about Janet, cradling the brunette's head against her shoulder as she sighs out. "Oh, don't worry, you get to shuffle the rest of your twenties to later on and have some fun after she's all stable and handling things on her own." She rolls her eyes and sighs out, "Now now, Janet dear. You don't want to be asking a dinosaur like me about /relationships/, I mean, with the space port and inevitable cultural exchange, who /knows/ what 'normal dating' will look like when you /are/ thirty? You'll probably be the source of a war between galactic empires for your hand in marriage. I say don't worry about it and enjoy yourself before that happens."

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"You know I almost had that?" Janet says, a little quietly. She looks up at Susan, then grabs the bar to help her sit properly upright. "With Steve, I mean. When Odin dubbed him 'Earl of Midgard'. Or..." she frets her lip. "Duke, maybe. It's a little fuzzy now," she admits. "But there I was on his arm. They called me /Lady/ van Dyne," she explains. "Consort of the Duke of Earth. I thought that had a nice ring to it. Well," she amends, thoughtfully. "It was on its -way- to sounding nice. I thought Steve was gonna propose back in those days. 'Duchess of Midgard' has a nice ring to it." She examines her left hand for a missing rock on her ring finger. "But that was ... shit. Two years ago, now," she says, and flickers her fingers away like she's dismissing the memory. "It was nothing but a busted pipe dream anyway."

Susan Richards has posed:
Susan's eyebrows perk up, her head tilts thoughtfully. "Honestly? I think the entire... royalty thing sort of took a shift to... annoying pomp and ridiculousness for me awhile back." She heaves out a sigh and shakes her head slowly, "I mean, not that underwater monarchs are still trying to convince me to move under the sea. Not for... oh... it's been at /least/ eight months. Maybe over a year."

She leans over and plants a little peck on Janet's cheek, "And /you/, young Ms. van Dyne, are not even in your prime yet. I have no doubt you will find some man you want and he will be as helpless to your charms as..." She frowns thoughtfully, "As my husband is to an anomalous energy reading, hm?"

She perks her eyebrows, "Maybe you just need to find a dating app for incredibly wealthy, young single costumed heroic sorts. Imagine the /sheer amount/ of filtering that alone would do!"

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet accepts the emotional reassurance and leans against Sue for a moment, giving her wrist a grateful little squeeze. "Oh I know, I'm just whinging with the ingratitude of my generation," Janet reassures Sue. "What's that app, CapeDate?" she hazards, nose wrinkling. "I know some people who've played with it, but to be blunt, I'd rather be caught dead inside a chain store. I date movie stars and CEOs and an actual, real-life prince," Janet informs Susan with a smug little smirk. "I can't imagine anything as *banal* as getting on a dating app. They'd either be after my money or after the fame," she complains. "So I'm kinda limited to the pool of people who either don't care about money, and who already have the fame."

She props her elbow on the bar, chin in hand, and chews on her pinkie with her eyes going out of focus. "I wonder if Ronaldo's available," she muses to herself. "I do love me an athlete."

Susan Richards has posed:
Sue provides support and warmth, and even a little invisible squeeze of unique forcefield 'hug' as she laughs softly, "Now now Janet dear, you're young, but I think you are allowed to act like your generation /has/ no ingratitude and that the /next/ generation is the problem with everything. Complain about them killing... do they still do those services where you get mailed a dozen CDs a month and can return any you don't want?"

She hums thoughtfully, "Maybe you should come by the Club for the next masquerade then? Go for something anonymous but flattering. Use it like a blind dating event. Find someone you enjoy the company of with all the fun of the anonymity."

She nods solemnly, "Otherwise you wind up with one of the three single bachelor billionaires or someone who has no need for mortal wealth. Is Thor single? Oh, maybe his friend. The one with the rapier. The Errol Flynn sort of swashbuckler fellow."

Sue takes a long slow, extended sip of her drink. So very innocent.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet pauses, resting a hand on Susan's arm with a tentative concern. "Sue... what's a CD?" she asks, with the gentle tone one uses with sick puppies and senior citizens.

She holds it for a good four count before an unrepentant grin spreads across her features, and she laughs despite herself and throws her arms around Sue.

"Oh, god, Susan, I love you, but you've got Big Gen-X energy," she apologizes to the timeless blonde. "I don't know. Dating Steve was a stretch, but I don't know if I wanna get involved with someone else on the team. ...well," she amends, "maybe T'challa. For sure he wouldn't be after me for my money, and god knows whatever vitamins he's taking, it's working for him," she posits.

She sighs heavily. "God, I sound like such a broken fucking record," she acknowledges. "It's been more than a year since he broke up with me and I still can't get him out of my head." Janet rubs her face moodily and props her chin on the bar. "Why can't I get past him, Sue?" she asks with a plaintive sound. "How come I can't move on?"

Susan Richards has posed:
Blue eyes narrow with just a /hint/ of the malice and violence that Susan keeps so very carefully and deeply contained... or at least with a good-natured approximation of it as she hisses out, "This is why we don't meet up often enough. One more crack like that and I'm going to turn into dust and blow away."

She sighs and loops her arms around her dear and /younger/ friend for a good squeeze, "I'm not sure it's vitamins so much as ancient and... okay, I'm not going to go all Reed at you and detail things but... yeah, /vitamins/."

She shrugs and heaves out a sigh, "I don't know, Jan... I mean, okay, so he's /Captain America/ and that might have something to do with it, but..." She frowns thoughtfully, "I mean, why does Namor show up to ask me out for drinks every year? Maybe we just want the things we want, regardless of common sense."

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"Oh, my god, I forgot how horrible your life is," Janet says. She clasps her palms to her cheeks, laying it on deliberately thick. "How can you possibly reconcile your abiding love for Mister Literally Fantastic with the constant attention from Namor, Noble Bad Boy of the Sea, and Shaw, Actual Bad Boy of New York?" she inquires of Susan.

She reaches for her drink, downs it, and bangs the glass on the bartop a few times to get the bartender's attention. Other patrons looks a little surprised at her outburst; Janet doesn't seem to care.

"I guess..." she chews the inside of her cheek. "I guess it's because after Hank, I thought I was done with settling down. Then ... big, dumb, stupid, handsome Steve comes along, and I started thinking I was wrong. I even adopted Nadia. There I was with a... family, again."

Her drink shows up and Janet stirs the olive in the martini moodily. "...What's Johnny up to these days?" she asks, flickering a hopeful-- but teasing-- gaze at Susan.

Susan Richards has posed:
Sue laughs, genuine and just a /touch/ louder than she intended, cheeks flushed as she rolls her eyes, "Janet, you absolute scamp. I swear if I'd told you that back when the Spaceport was first coming online I was testing out some of our surplus shuttles and one broke down and I had to call Starlord to rescue me, you'd be gossiping to half the city within an hour."

One eyebrow perks at Janet's drink-banging summoning of another round, draining her own and lifting a finger to indicate she'd like her own. "You know, people don't look /nearly/ so shocked when Thor does that. It's a double standard. Absolutely dreadful."

One eyebrow arches primly and she sighs out, "Janet, darling... you know what? I don't know. Which is either worrying or reassuring. Maybe /he's/ finally ready to settle down. I think the last time I saw him was after some big gala at the Club... he was sneaking out with some woman. But that was /months/ and months ago. I'll have to tell him you're asking after him."

She sips her drink as her refill arrives and murmurs dryly, "I mean, he /is/ my brother. I should warn him."

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"Oh please, Johnny Storm is who he is and he isn't going to change," Janet tells Susan with the same Saharan tone. She chimes the rim of her drink off Susan's and takes a healthy swallow. "I'm pathetic, but I'm not so sad as to start fantasizing that I'm the woman who tames the Human Torch."

"But if you want to remind him that he's got my phone number, I won't stop you," Janet says, feigning demurity with a little shrug of her shoulder.

"I kinda envy you though. Having a brother," Janet admits. "Sometimes I wonder what that would be like. Vernon-- my father-- he made it pretty clear to my mother that having kids was... an indulgence. " She stirs her drink around. "After Mom died, I got introduced to all the finest boarding schools. I think it just hurt him too much to keep me around. Which, of course, did fantastic things for my adolescent ego. It's why I married Hank so soon," she explains. "Screwing daddy's favorite student was one thing, then after he died, I just... I guess Hank was the last little piece of Vernon van Dyne I was still hanging on to."

Susan Richards has posed:
Susan laughs softly and shakes her head, "No, I imagine if any woman tames him, it will be some alien warrior queen." She frowns thoughtfully, "Sadly, I don't know any of those!"

She snickers softly and widens her eyes, "Oh! Wait, you still use /phones/? I figured I missed some sort of neural uplink system going active, and that phones were now the equivalent of two tin cans on a string, or the phonograph."

She smiles lopsidedly and nods her head, a soft little sigh that might be somewhere near forlorn escaping. "I... don't think any of us live the lives we originally see for ourselves. I never imagined dropping out of college to... well, to /anything/, let alone..." She gestures at that '4' symbol on her flattering dress. "Traipsing around with /powers/, being part of the forefront of technological development and... all that's happened." She sticks her tongue out of the corner of her mouth for a moment in a pensive little expression of thought. "I almost thought about going back to school. Finishing my degree, not just honorary, just... doing the work and having the paper to say I still /did/ it..."

She sighs out, "But I mean, I feel like a dinosaur some days just going to /work/, going to a university and trying to count how many classmates I have to add together to equal my age?"

She leans over to peck a kiss to Janet's cheek, "Well, I'm sure if he could see you now he'd be stunned and impressed. Vernon I mean. Of course if the... nuns? Were there nuns at the boarding schools? If they could see you they'd faint."

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"College is such a bunch of bullshit," Janet reminds Sue, leaning against her friend supportively. "It's a certificate that you did something stupid for four years and got a stupid degree for it, so you can prove to people you're able to do the work," she says.

"My art didn't get better because of college, it got better under *Edie*," she stresses. "Edna challenged me and demanded that I grow. I could have skipped all the other college BS, paid her a hundred grand, and gotten just as much out of it in a year versus three," she affirms. "Whatever it is, wherever you go, you don't need a diploma to prove you *can* do it," she says, and gives Sue's knee an impulsive squeeze. "You're literally the Girl Who Did It. Hell, they should be sending people to *you* for diplomas," Janet remarks with a dry envy.
% She drains her drink and stands up, gulping the last of it down. "C'mon, the night is young and there are many hearts yet unbroken in Manhattan," she reminds Sue. "We've got a few stops left on the party bus tonight." She loops her arm through Susan's elbow and gestures at the bartender to wrap their tab up.