15896/In the Wake of Destruction: Sisters of Saint Gertrude Function

In the Wake of Destruction: Sisters of Saint Gertrude Function
Date of Scene:	20 September 2023
Location:	Bristol Township
Synopsis:	Sebastian Shaw comes across the self-styled 'Wayne Spare Heir' at a charity function for the Sisters of Saint Gertrude. The two share a very friendly verbal spar, and he offers her an invitation to visit the Hellfire Club with him as a host.
Cast of Characters:	Phoebe Beacon, Sebastian Shaw

---

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    BRISTOL COUNTRY CLUB was Gotham City's private, premiere and *exclusive* country clubs and golf courses that was showcased in last year's stunning event where a wayne heir was briefly held prisoner, Commissioner Gordon punched Dockyard Dogs leader Diggory Duggs and now-running-for-DA Phillip CUpp had soiled himself in fear.

    It's not always spoken of in polite circles of society, and CUpp has tried to brush it off as a misunderstanding and it never happened.

    Today the Sisters of Saint Gertrude are running a charity event for their feline sanctuary, and there's a small collection of the Who's-Who in the Tri City area have attended the function, including said Wayne Heir.

    Phoebe Wayne was quietly off to the side, the young person in a sea of forty-plus agers, who no doubt would small talk with her politely as she's Bruce Wayne's adoptive child, but definitely considered the 'weird' one. She was wearing a modest, neutral dress in a quiet taupe and her hair was braided and set in waves, tucked in among itself, a wide, black choker necklace made of wht looked to be a silk ribbon around her neck, and prim gloves on for the daytime event.

Sebastian Shaw has posed:
    After the exciting events last year, Sebastian Shaw had circled this function on his calendar. It was good to get out of the Hellfire Club from time to time, and mingle with those particularly of another city. And he is very much a fan of watching chaos break out among the rich, so long as it is not occurring at his club. So while hardly a Gothamite, or invested in the cause, the Black King has found himself working through the club, exchanging greetings with some that he knew - some wealth functions at a global level - and some folks new to him. Spending little enough time outside of NYC, this is his first meeting with no small number of Gothamites.

After a series of meet and greets, he makes his way over towards the bar. Not in his home club, he has eschewed his typical antequated ensemble for a more contemporary look, a dark black suit with light silver piping worn over a a light grey shirt.

He steps away from the bar, drink in hand, and scans the room for others with whom he has not yet become acquainted.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    The young Wayne girl was not someone who'd made a habbit of visiting the club - in spite of the possibility of being a Legacy member through her adoptive parent. She gives off an air of slight nervousness as she interacts with a few others who stop to talk to her about this or that in Gotham, and she makes her way through the crowd on her way to the bar where she's mistaken for someone else, and accepts two very empty champagne flutes. She looks at the flutes, and was about to say something when she gets an amused expression, and just continues her way to the bar to set the flutes on the bar and ask very nicely for a lemon-lime soda with half a shot of grenadine and the juice from marachino cherries to make it LOOK fancy.

    And accepting her drink, she sees Shaw, and gives a slight smile.

    "Now, yours isn't a face I see in Gotham very often -- have we been made acquaintences?"

Sebastian Shaw has posed:
    Watching Phoebe's approach, laden with glasses to be turned in, Sebastian chuckles and dips his head in response to the smile. "Always handle such things with grace," he comments in idle praise of her poise, as he himself takes a sip of brandy.

    "No, I cannot recall precisely the last time I set foot in your ... fair ... city." There is a quirk of his lips at that. "I am Sebastian Shaw, owner of the Hellfire Club in New York, and no, I do not believe that we have." He raises his glass as a form of introduction.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Well, I'm sure they'll be properly horrified once they realize who they handed their glasses to." Phoebe replies with good humor, and then she raises her own glass.

    "Phoebe Wayne. A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Shaw." she introduces herself, "I believe two, three.. all of my brothers may be members of the Hellfire Club? she gives a small smile, "Though we tend to be homebodies ourselves, I'm afraid."

Sebastian Shaw has posed:
    "If they are even cognizant of their mistake, or their ability to make one." Sebastian chuckles. "They could be staring at an image of you and continue to swear that it was the serving girl from the other room." He shrugs. "I have little time for those types."
    Phoebe receives a brief study following her introduction, and he nods his head slowly. "And your farther, as well, although he rarely comes around." He takes a long sip from his brandy. "And yes, I have heard that you either go about at these lavish events, or remain sequestered back in that cavernous mansion that you have." He finishes off his brandy and places it onto the tray of a passing busser with a tray of empties. "Some days, I cannot blame you for not wanting to be a part of all...." He waves a hand vaguely. "...this."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "They probably could. Though I wager I stand out more than my brothers. We do tend to run the gamut of shades, don't we?" she ventures, with a small smile.

    "Bruce has been very busy with Wayne Enterprises. It's refreshing actually, not everyone takes such a hands-on approach to their legacies. It truly has impacted at least Tim and myself; Tim works in research and development and I've been dabbling in the charitable works subsection of finance, but this is certainly not my crowd."

    Which is overwhelmingly older, very well off and mostly old money.

    "And /I/ am hardly sequestered. Goodness, if I couldn't go to my classes I'd be besides myself. Pursuing medical career, so after my BS in biology and anatomy is finished, off to medical school."

Sebastian Shaw has posed:
    Sebastian cannot quite realize the humor inherent to that statement, aside from perhaps the obvious differences between physical tones of skin in the Wayne family. "Well, I am sure you each have your own ways to stand out." Diplomatic, at least.


    The reference to Bruce Wayne earns just a dip of his head. "Certainly, there is enough involved there to keep him up at night." His eyes cast about for a moment, as if in search of other refreshment, before he turns his gaze back to Phoebe. "That is why I keep myself a simple man with simple responsibilities." Not that his company is any less complex, but he has long ago divested himself of the day to day responsibilities.

    He chuffs a bit at her comment. "This has a vague resemblance to my crowd, but is far less interesting, I must confess." A smile crosses over his lips. "Perhaps it is simply that the elite of New York have retained some aspects of their personalities from when they were not quite so wealthy."

    "I am sure that Bruce is pleased to know that someone is keeping up the family legacy." Was that some shade at Bruce himself? Or maybe just an effort by Sebastian to show how familiar he truly was with the family.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "He was very pleased, in fact, when I stated my intention to go to medical school, in that I'd be taking a turn at Thomas Wayne's legacy. I feel that partnering and working in charity and medical technology may be a route to give Wayne Enterprises' Wayne Technology an edge, as well as push my no doubt youthful but misguided altruistic agenda." she gives a bright smile at that.

    And it's true. Tim is pale. Jason has color. Dick rocks his Romani roots and Damian's mother is of Middle Eastern stock and it shows in his tanned skin. Truly the Waynes have many shades covered. Just don't ask about their night jobs.

    "You don't seem like you'd be a simple man with simple tastes, Mr. Shaw. I did see the Club Purgatory at its opening event, with friends who are legacies of your club. It always seemed to me that it is something more than simple hedonism... I've heard you put on a charity gala that would make the Gotham City budgetteers drool." she sips from her drink, dark eyes settling on Shaw in curiosity.

Sebastian Shaw has posed:
    That earns a grin, as Sebastian raises a finger to attract the attention of a server. "Those truly are the best kind of agendas, of course." A brief pause is taken to exchange words with a server before the entirety of his attention is returned to Phoebe. "It seems that you have a strong plan for what you wish to do. Commendable, at such a young age."
    That assertion from her raises an eyebrow from Shaw. "Interesting," he murmurs, as a server arrives with a new glass of brandy, and a nod is exchanged briefly. "Those are all certainly true. Although not exactly the most common of knowledges." He takes a sip from his new brandy. "You should come and explore for yourself some time, and evaluate that assertion."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "I'm not sure I fit in with the typical clientelle --" Phoebe replies with a small smile, and she leans against a table, casually. It causes one person to look over and make a face, seeing who she's speaking with -- that would be the man running for DA against Harvey Dent, Phillip Cupp. He seems to not want to be close to Phoebe at all.

    "I'm afraid there's not much attraction to the... hedonism aspect of the club for me. I'm really a terrible bore at parties." Phoebe finishes, and she half-drains her seven-up-and-extra-sugar from her glass.

    "They're the most difficult of agendas, I'm finding. Not everyone's so excited to tilt the status quo. Especially in Gotham City."

Sebastian Shaw has posed:
    "Oh, come now, everyone who has an appreciation for life and its enjoyment can be a typical clientele." Sebastian flashes a grin. He seems, for a moment, to glance at the glances they themselves are receiving, but pays little mind to them.

    There is a very brief perusal of Phoebe's form, as if by instinct, as she demurs on the idea of the hedonism of the club, and Sebastian shrugs. "One could always watch. It would be educational..." His lips curl around the glass he takes a sip. "Especially for a doctor."

    "If ever there were a city more deserving of at tipped status quo, it is Gotham." He glances around again before fixing her with his gaze. "I hope that you are not the same way as a doctor, taking on only cases where the patient is already one foot into the grave."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe's mouth sets in a pressed line as her ears color. She definitely got a mental image at that statement of watching.

    The demure dress, very modest with three-quarter length sleeves and a high neckline, her hair wrapped in such amanner that it hides the color, modest earrings -- a small peircing in to hide her nose piercing, neutral makeup, Phoebe has tried her best to appear unassuming and, indeed, like a female game bird -- drab. Better to hide herself and be stepped over. She didn't seem to mind it, observing the room.

    "I'm afraid I must admit I'm not sure what watching a variety of the rich and fabulous play would contribute, I passed anatomy and physiology with flying colors, and also take classes with Gotham university's arts program. The body is hardly a visual mystery to me."

    And she turns her gaze back to Shaw a moment, her eyebrows rising up as she looks to him.

    "No. I'm hoping to get time in with the Thompkins Clinic and work with the disadvantaged of Gotham City while finishing up the medical degree. I may not be a Wayne by blood, but I've grown up in this city and would like to see the legacy of uplifting the people be kept. Which, to me, includes getting rid of archetectural systems like anti-homeless archetecture and bolstering the support systems, creating opportunity in neighborhoods that have been blighted or are in danger of gentrification, and I'm talking far, far too much." she mutters, and sips her drink with her cheeks coloring slightly.

Sebastian Shaw has posed:
    "The body, certainly not. The mechanics of a body at motion, the interplay between two bodes..." Sebastian pauses for a moment, watching Phoebe, well aware of the changing of her plumage as the conversation rolls on. "Or more, of course." His eyes rest upon her face as he swirls the brandy. "It is quite different to see it play out before you, animated, excited, dynamic..." A pause for a sip. "Living."

    He listens patiently, attentively, nodding along with each of Phoebe's assertions. One thing that Sebastian Shaw has perfected is the art of listening, giving the fullness of his attention - sometimes too much - to a speaker, leaving no doubt that he is absorbing every word. To most, listening is a passive activity. To Sebastian, it is very active, and it can be described as _intense_. "Hardly," he corrects her gently. "I find your enthusiasm refreshing, and unlike most who bear that at your age, you have wisdom and common sense behind it as well." His gaze remains intense, as if thinking deeply about what she has said. "You are impressive, Ms. Wayne, and inspiring, and that makes you stand out even more amidst this crowd than your age."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "And that is one of the reasons why I'm a patron of the ballet, Mr. Shaw." Phoebe keeps her cool about her, though her cheeks and ears are a couple shades darker on her skin. "As well as more urban dance groups. Improv troops. Gotham's known for its paticular brand of dark humor, if you'd like reccomendations I can provide you with a couple small venues that specialize in it." Phoebe replies with a small smile, and then turns to regard Shaw, her head tilting slightly to the side. He might catch just the very edge of a scar on her throat.

    "Is that flattery or an attempt to get me to come visit the Hellfire Club, Mr. Shaw, just to spite my saying that I'd stick out more there than I do here?" she questions with a smile.

Sebastian Shaw has posed:
    "Mmmm. Ballet." Sebastian does not need to say what is on his mind. "Dance is...certainly it's own appeal, but..." There is amusement on his face now. He relents, raising his glass to her. "Well played, Ms. Wayne." He is not about to push the point, granting her the deflection she so capably orchestrated.

    "Rest assured, Ms. Wayne, if you accepted my invitation, and came as my guest, I could be quite certain that you would not stick out in any way, unless you yourself chose to." What exactly that implies is unclear as he tips his glass, drinking heftily of the brandy. "And no, it is not flattery. It is honesty. You, yourself, must know how you come off, brighter than both your peers and those considerably older than you."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Thank you, Mr. Shaw." she gives a small smile. "Unfortunately it tends to come off as more insufferable know-it-all and kind of being a killjoy." Phoebe's lips form a moue, and she breathes out through her nose, tilting her glass towards different people in turn.

    "That is Jean Billidou. Her daughter Sadie is an extended cousin from the Powers. She once had it in her brain to marry into the Waynes via my brother Tim. Attempted to switch her attentions to Damian, but Damian comes out less than I do. She's got a bachelors in fashion design, but doesn't do anything with it, when her talent is actually in marketing. She could hype slugs to a gardening club and they would probably purchase them. The Villabuilts" she motions to a couple in their sixties, "continue to save face but lose money by cutting finds to their lowest paid employees and trying to hire one for every two that leave. Pretty soon they'll have no base to their building and it'll fall, but not before they retire and cash out. I've hired a number of their lower-tier financial people for their experience and knowledge of the system alone and people do have a tendency to talk around the water tower." Phoebe narrows her eyes.

    "And Phillip Cupp. Wanted to marry into the Waynes via me. Ended up with a broken nose and cracked occular orbital for his trouble the last time he wanted to talk."

    She swirls the dregs of her drink.

    "They know the of people, but not the value." She raises her hand, and she's brought a sparkling water. She gives a smile and slips a fifty dollar tip under the glass.

    Wayne Money, yo.

Sebastian Shaw has posed:
    "Well, we shall just have to find a way to bring you joy that you cannot kill, then." That twinkle is back in his eye as Sebastian regards Phoebe. As if he has somehow marked her to be a challenge.

    He listens as she rattles off her knowledge of the scene, and cannot help but look impressed, nodding along with an appreciating smile. Is it to the lesson itself, or simply her capability to deliver it? "I pay very well to have people within my club to pay attention to such details and bring them to my attention." He smiles. "If you ever decide that medicine is no longer you calling, let me know."

    Another nod. "Wise words, especially for one so young." He raises his glass to her. "Is it the Wayne influence, or is that what you bring to their table?" He finishes off his glass, and sets it down beside hers. He retrieves his own billfold, placing a fifty under his own glass. Far be it for him to not match, or to show her up.

    Shaw money is newer, but spends just as well.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe gives a small smile to Shaw, her eyebrows drawing up. "I have joy in spades. If the butler didn't take my phone so I would socialize, I'd be showing you pictures of my dogs and gardening projects," she gives a small grin at that, "Simple things in life, Mr. Shaw." she breathes out with a small laugh as she looks over the group, her gaze looking over and through the people as she considers her next words.

    "I was incredibly fortunate Bruce Wayne thought I was someone worthy of saving. I'll never be able to pay him back monetarily. The least I can do is to not embarrass him." Phoebe sips her water.

    "... that's what the tabloids that keep thinking I'm secretly dating an alien squidman or that Batman has added me under his vampiric sway are for."

Sebastian Shaw has posed:
    "Either a butler who does not know his place, or one who absolutely does. Hopefully the latter, because those are irreplaceable." Sebastian nods in approval.

    "I do not suspect that he needs any form of payback, based around what I knew of him. I suspect that you honoring his father's legacy would be more than ample, aside from whatever else you do on behalf of this city."

    "I do not suspect that Batman wastes his time ensorcling young women, when he has an entire city that needs attending to." He laughs softly. "But I suppose the tabloids would be happy to suggest otherwise."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Trust me. This is a butler who is absolutely indespensable to the Wayne family, and definitely knows where everyone's place is." Phoebe replies with a smile and all the fondness for Alfred Pennyworth plain in her tone.

    She gives a small hum of a sound, and narrows her eyes as she looks up to the ceiling.

    "I think in the latest version, Batman has been double-crossing the lizard people -- who are all Gotham's Old Money families -- with lunar vampires. They had a hard time fitting me in since it's rather public that I come from blue collar and not blue blood, but they finally have fit me into their ongoing storyarc of who will win Batman's true loyalties." Phoebe sips her sparkling water, and looks slyly over to Shaw.

    "The Justice League meanwhile is all robots, the real Justice League other than Batman have been swallowed by a wormhole and try to contact various people around the tri-city area through their toaster ovens."

Sebastian Shaw has posed:
    "These people are at least creative with their insanity." Sebastian laughs. "I am glad that I am not the subject of such periodicals. Who knows what concoctions they might come up with that would attempt to embarass me."
    He nods again, in thought. "The Waynes are fortunate to have him, then. And fortunate to have you, I might add. You acquit them well." There is a bit of a grin. "Your butler was wise to foist you off onto society."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "It sells well, and I know people who believe it." Phoebe replies a bit ruefully, but she gives a small smile as she looks out over the people.

    "Thank you, Mr. Shaw. I don't think I've gotten such fine complements from anyone else in the room. Although it wasn't the first time to day someone thought I was a busser and had me take their empty glasses."

    And from somewhere in the crowd a woman can be heard saying 'That was the WAYNE GIRL? Winnifred why didn't you /tell me/ I was handing your glass to a /Wayne/?!'

    "Ah, there it is." Phoebe gives a wry little smile. "I think the butler likes to put me into situations where I'll cause equal amounts of squirming between my discomfort and theirs."

Sebastian Shaw has posed:
    "People will believe anything that gives them some semblance of superiority," counters Sebastian. "It is simply human nature."

    He nods absently to her gratitude. "People easily overlook what is not obvious, to their deficit." As if to prove his words, comes that exclamation, and Sebastian is forced to chuckle. "One does not grow from a place of comfort, Ms. Wayne." A pause. "Which is, of course, why I invited you come to my club. I take no offense to your lack of interest, but consider it an open offer, should you change your mind/."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Well." Phoebe considers, her head tilting a moment. She tapes her fingers. "When is a good time to make a visit? Mind you, I'm not of drinking age, so I think Purgatory is the only level I can indulge in without bending the rules. And I would *hate* to make you bend the rules of your own club for my benefit."

    She's trying not to smile at that statement, as if she's quite serious about not bending the rules.

Sebastian Shaw has posed:
There is a hearty laugh at that suggestion, as Sebastian considers her. "Yes. Of course. 'Rules'." The very intonation shows just how much respect he has for such things. When it benefits him, of course.

"Whenever would serve you well. I spend the vast majority of my time there, in one capacity or another. You need not let me know in advance, unless you wish to be retrieved immediately upon your arrival." A card is in his hand with a brief gesture to his pocket. The symbol for a Chess King, embossed in black on one side, a number on the other. "But should you wish, of course, I would be happy to greet you, and save you from the trouble of the rabble on approach."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Well. That's not ominous at all. Phoebe accepts the card in a gloved hand, and purses her lips a moment as she turns it over, and her dark eyes dart back up to Shaw's. What is his game? Just another influencer to boast membership? Or something sinister?

    Phoebe gives a smile, and she tucks the business card into the handiest place to keep it safe -- the back of her left hand's glove.

    "I'm getting used to the regular rabble, Mr. Shaw, but it is nice to have an acquaintence on the inside to meet with." she replies agreeably, with a dip of her head.

    "And should you ever want to take in a comedy club here in Gotham -- feel free to reach out. In some cases the jokes are to die for."

Sebastian Shaw has posed:
His face may be inscrutable, but is clear that Sebastian's invitation has implications beyond the obvious. What they are is anyone's guess.

"I would be happy to serve that purpose for you," he says, inclining his head in a measure something like a bow as the card is taken. Her invitation in return evokes a chuckle. "Oh, I have quite heard about Gotham's reputation for deadly humor. I seek no part in _that_ insanity."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe gives another smile. "Well, my other likes are punk rock shows and quiet afternoons at the museums, but you don't seem like an anti-establishment punk-show attender." she offers in explaination to Shaw, and then takes a breath and tilts her wrist to take alook at her watch.

    "Ah, and I"m being called away -- I apologize, Mr. Shaw. You've been the most engaging part of my afternoon. I'll be sure to look for you at other events." Phoebe gives a small smile to Shaw, setting her water glass back on the tray for empties with another bill.

Sebastian Shaw has posed:
    "The Hellfire Club may as well be a museum, and if you wished, it could be opened to you on any afternoon." Sebastian notes the glance to the watch, and is prepared even as she speaks.

    "Of course, I would not hope to keep you from your duties, or your pleasures." He bows his head once more, returning the smile. "And I would say the same of you. I had thought this would be a simply dreadful affair, given what I know of Gotham, and you have made it a pleasant surprise. So thank you." Another nod. "Do please consider my invitation. I would be happy to host you, Ms. Wayne."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "And I think I would be happy to accept, Mr. Shaw. I'll have to check my schedule, thank you." Phoebe replies warmly, and she then goes to move through the crowd -- notably, not touching anyone, she goes around or dodges through pockets of people, to a man in black slacks and a black vest over a crisp, white shirt, who looks over to Sebastian Shaw with a look of curiosity, and then ushers the young woman out of the club's ballroom -- while returning her phone to her.