16936/Hellfire Club Mardi Gras 2024

Hellfire Club Mardi Gras 2024
Date of Scene:	14 February 2024
Location:	Purgatory Night Club - Hellfire Club
Synopsis:	The Hellfire Club Mardi Gras goes off without a hitch once again, and a good time was had by all.
Cast of Characters:	Sebastian Shaw, Lara Croft, Quentin Quire, Lucy Blaze, Alison Blaire, Selene Gallio, Richard Swift, Aldrif Odinsdottir, Janet van Dyne

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Sebastian Shaw has posed:
It is time for the biggest celebration of the year at the Hellfire Club - Mardi Gras!

The annual tradition goes back quite some time, and there are few better places to see and be seen than at the Hellfire Club. Already well known for its somewhat outrageous atmosphere, during Mardi Gras even the Hellfire Club is turned up to 11.

The club is packed, largely with members and their guests but there are always a few who manage to secure a rare non-member invite in the crowd. Dancing or drinking away, or just mingling, many are wearing some fashion of mask, be it simply or elaborate. And in some cases, the mask may be the most restrictive part of their attire.

Off to the side are vendors selling beads, ranging from simple plastic ones to highly elaborate ones. Members can purchase them, but negotiations as far as how beads are traded after purchase are up to the guests.

It has ben circulated among those attending that there are four special sets of beads this year that come with an extra bonus - a one year's paid VIP membership to the Hellfire Club itself. There is no cash value stated for it, because if you have to ask how much it costs, you probably can't afford it. But for those seeking it, they are elaborate chains of either ivory or ebony colored beads, and hanging from the end are chess pieces - two kings (one of each color) and two queens (one of each color). To obtain one is to skirt the level of legendary status, and there are no small number of guests eager to lay claim to one.

And standing in observation of all of this is Sebastian Shaw, owner of the Hellfire Club (publicly) and its Black King (not so publicly). Watching with a smile on his face at all of the depravity that he is able to cultivate.

Lara Croft has posed:
Being that it was Lara's birthday on Valentine's Day, and she had absolutely no plans for it this year, she was in attendance here at the Hellfire event to provide her with a sense of geting out, mingling, and participating in something that didn't involve research text books, and dusty journals. She'd been through a lot in the past year, and had told herself she'd try to change gears some this year, thus she's here, and she's dressed quite nicely. In an asymmetrical dress of crimson hue, it dangle long down her left leg, while high up her right. Exposing her left side from thigh up to shoulder, while covering much of her right, Lady Croft has her hair done up in a stylish fashion, her ears and neck adorned in glittering jewelry. She moves with the flow of some of the traffic within the gala event, a glass of bubbly already handed to her by one of the club's attendees. Lara sips from her glass, as her brown eyes roam over the guests in attendance tonight, already seeing a bit of revelry taking place with the variety of beads on offer tonight.

Quentin Quire has posed:
A Mardi Gras party? At the Hellfire Club? Of _course_ Quentin was going to score himself one of those guest invitations. Who wouldn't want to be seen at that party? Which is how he ends up getting through the front door and wading into the crowd of party-goers, a half-mask strapped to his face, mohawk disappearing under a spread of equally appalling neon pink feathers splaying out from the mask, arching up and then backwards like a huge feathered pompador. Perfectly appropriate for this kind of masquerade, even if the rolled sleeves of his buttondown are the only risque bit of flashed skin he's got going so far, hands hidden under a pair of black leather gloves.

Lucy Blaze has posed:
The promise of fancy strings of beads isn't why Lucy happens to attend a Mardi Gras party. That might be a definite side benefit but hardly the primary target. If anyone needs to question her motives, they have no reason to know why. The rare guest invitation that ends up in her hot, delicate hands opens certain doors and she makes a point of watching the rest who sail through or mill about in nocturnal tides replete in their decadence. Amidst all those in their relative states of vanity and undress, she stands out possibly for being wound in a glittering spill of scarlet from toe to white at her throat, her bone-white hair sinuously wound *into* the neckline and shoulder straps of the dress somehow. Iridescent shadow masks her brow to her nose in an ombre effect, fading out instead of an actual domino. The effect not a little intense with that bone structure.

She carries a flute of something doctored enough to be extraordinarily purple, possibly spiked by substances unwise to consume. It doesn't come to her lips once, though that could spoil the effect of her makeup. Hard to miss the pink pompadour as the man enters, and her gaze checked in that direction acknowledges Quentin's impact for what it's worth. Too gauche to salute. Instead, she prowls languidly through the exceptionally crowded hunting grounds in a gloss of bloody victory and seraphic indifference -- feigned, probably.

Alison Blaire has posed:
Sometimes the life of a pop star is a blur of bright lights and red carpets, autograph signings and PR opportunities. Sometimes (Just once) it's one of your PR reps getting you on this online show where you have to eat hot wings and you learn there ARE things worse than government sanctioned giant killer robots. And sometimes the life of a pop star means you've spent the last three months hidden in your studio working to get a song written, an album with a coherent theme. And it's driving you crazy.

And then suddenly your phone is blowing up.

That was a week ago as Alison was bombarded by excited texts from people she honestly barely remembers about the Club's big Mardi Gras gala. And hey, what's a better way to fight inspirational blockage than going out and making six months worth of mistakes in one night?

Hair dolled up in a short 'do that's not quite short enough to evoke the Flapper period of last century, but it's also not going to fly about and take out anyone's eyes when she's moving. And her outfit is a mix of self-serving publicity and daring implication. Her torso's kept about as obscured as it's possible to be kept when relying on an oversized concert t-shirt from her own merch line (It is, of course, a limited edition one night only run from her 2019 concert in New Orleans), though someone's gone and taken fabric shears to that expensive collector's item so that every move seems to reveal another new tear or rip or slit and the tanned skin beneath. And really, it does seem like it's only really revealing skin, although long legs are encased in a pair of shimmering stockings that seem to catch the light and refract it in every color of the spectrum depending on the angle, stockings disappearing into a pair of ankle boots with dramatic heels that lift her up to an easy 6'1 and don't seem to impact her smooth, easy gait as she circles her way through the club. The masquerade covering she's chosen for the evening does nothing more than obscure her eyebrows to the bridge of her nose, bedazzled with fine sequins to catch the light and sparkle in that same rainbow of colours.

Her eyes flicker towards the bead vendors and for a brief moment full red lips press into a thin line as she makes a show of considering purchasing some... only to make another show of patting down that flowing t-shirt that hangs down to mid thigh only to find she did not in fact bring her wallet!

She heaves a loud sigh and calls out, "Oh rats! I guess I'll have to earn my beads the old fashioned way!" without a hint of the slightest bit of acting talent put towards making that outburst seem genuine or unplanned. And with her 'entirely genuine attempt to purchase beads' concluded the pop star spins about, flaring out that t-shirt in a way that barely even counts as flirtatious in the environs of the Hellfire Club before she's swaying her way towards a bar.

After all, even if she doesn't need a little liquid courage to begin earning her beads, it does make it more fun.

Selene Gallio has posed:
One of those bearing one of the coveted sets of chess beads is a woman of darkness and mystery, although regular members of the Hellfire Club will know her as Selene Gallio.

Tonight she is wearing a domino mask which does little to truly obscure her identity, but it does a better job of managing her face than the half-corset does of her torso. Even more revealing than the usual Hellfire Club get-up, she does have the matching thong that reveals a long expanse of pale white skin before they go into her knee high boots.

Her gaze drifts over the crowd as her fingers idly play with the black queen chess piece hanging between her breasts, contemplating who seems compelling enough to earn it.

Richard Swift has posed:
While revelry and gaiety is not usually the cup of tea for Richard Swift, the man IS a member of the Hellfire Club and HAD made it a New Year's resolution to become more involved to make it worth the substantial sum he has been paying to the Club through the years. And oh so many years.

He has eschewed his cane tonight, although he is wearing a dapper top hat to go along with a fairly elaborate mask. More three dimension than most, it not only obscures the top half of his face save for his eyes, but extends out far enough that it renders the bottom half of his face in a dark shadow that threatens to hide it entirely.

He lingers for the moment near the wall, contemplating whether or not he should attempt to mingle or simply observe the debauchery as it happens.

Aldrif Odinsdottir has posed:
Angela at least wears some red with her battle bikini, having acquired an invitation somehow, probably from a mysterious contact who wanted a good laugh but she'll show them by actually going to the party. She is over six feet in height, especailly with her boots on, so she kinda sticks out at the gathering, where she tries not to look too sullen and annoyed. It's almost like a challenge to her, a game she plays as she drifts around. She finally snatches a glass off a nearby tray and has a deep drink like she's at some after-battle shin dig and blaps the glass back in place, inadvertantly smashing it. She frowns at the fragile nature of the glass and hmms, looking for another of the same thing but finds the golden tray empty. She eyes a dapper man as she walks away from her spot, "You there, server! Do you have more of this bubbly crap?" she asks.

Sebastian Shaw has posed:
Descending down from above once the party has truly started, Sebastian Shaw is masked, but only barely. A thin band of black covers just around his eyes, not nearly enough to obscure his magnificent muttonchops, and perhaps that is the purpose behind that. He is wearing a luxuriously appointed black Victorian era jacket with a royal purple vest beneath it, and below that a white silk shirt with ruffles spilling out from collar and sleeves. Skin tight black breeches complete the ensemble, making one wonder if heat bothers the man at all.

As he begins to drift through the crowd, those who get close will see that he is also wearing a lone set of beads, black and ending in a black king. One of the rumored free passes to the Hellfire Club. And while this earns him a bevy of buxom buffs broadcasting bosoms, it lingers around his neck. No mere display will wrestle that from his possession.

His path takes him over towards one who certainly does not need those beads, her membership long since having been paid. Generationally, in fact. "Lady Croft," he says with a smile and an inclination of his head. "I realize I am a day early, but please allow me to wish you the very best of birthdays." His smile broadens. "And I am delighted that you have chosen us to share in your last day of twenty six." Is it creepy that he knows that? Perhaps, but it also may be the sign of a good host, who has to be well aware of every birthday, anniversary, and child's birthdays of his well regarded members.

Lara Croft has posed:
Lara is not wearing a mask, though her hair is done up in a way that allows strands to frame her forehead enough to partially conceal her identity when not looking directly upon her. She is watching those gathered about, noticing Alison realizing she'd not brought any money with her. this garners an amused look from Lara, who speaks over to Alison across the short distance between them. "I would imagine they'd know you're good for it." She tells the Dazzling One, before sipping her drink again.

When Shaw comes to speak to Lara on her right, she turns to face him, taking in the sight of his attire, and listening to what he has to say. It earns a smile on her dusky red hued lips, and Lara offers him a slight nod. "Thank you, Mister Shaw." She tells him, "and you're looking dapper as ever. You've put together another lively affair here, it seems." The English woman further states of the party itself. Her eyes cast about it, before they return to him. "Ever do I get impressed when I come to the Hellfire soirees, if only I were able to come to more of them." She finishes with a playful grin, and another sip of her drink.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet van Dyne's outfit is as much a marvel of engineering as it is a statement on fashion. The core of it is a shimmering, iridescent cloth wound around her slender frame like the closed petals of a rose bud. As the light catches the material it dances between satin pink and sky blue in an eye-catching manner. The dress itself is beautiful, despite the simplistic aesthetic of the form, and the rest of the outfit fills Janet's personal space like so much plumage. Bushy feathers form a cowling behind her neck that frames her features, done in smokey purple and pink to complement her dress. Skirting rises from her hips and flares out around her body in raiments of azure blue and white. She looks like something between an exotic flower and a bird of paradise and even the bulk of the outfit serves to draw the eye to the vision of sophisticated beauty centered within those plumes.

And of course, like the rest of the old money congregating in the Hellfire Club, Janet pays little attention to the 'free' beads on offer for whomever wants to work for them. Her membership was bought and paid for for life many years beforehand.

Selene Gallio has posed:
Not choosing to depart from her lair just yet, Selene watches the twisting and turning of those on the dance floor with an impassive expression on her face, sipping at a glass of wine. She glances about as if trying to place some faces in the crowd. Or maybe just find someone worthy to pawn off her queen on.

Lucy Blaze has posed:
The dancing to woo a few strings of rainbow coloured beads are hard for Lucy to ignore. She watches Alison's efforts from the corner of her eye, tapping a finger to the unspoken beat as the singer whirls in a playful turn. Seeing the outcome brings a calculated tilt to her chin, and the equally tall white-haired woman somehow manages to slide between a pair of partiers pasted almost together and a quartet straining to get a good look at other guests in case they somehow have the coveted, elusive set of beads.

One angel then might spot another. Battle bikinis and red plumage are something of a signal for her calculating magpie eye. She deliberately blocks the escape path of the server bearing a tray of drinks, more than likely less questionable than the one she herself maintains. The faintest check to see if that's bubbly or a grog from top-shelf components doesn't lead to her picking up a second glass, but she says to Angela, "Tell me if that is not to your liking. Hardly can be called a party if libations do not please you."

The red stone at her throat gleams as she languidly tilts her head, albeit only so far. It's her own hair caging her throat and ensuring that gown holds up at all, after all. Presumably. Heavy-lidded eyes cast a look past Janet's impeccable choice of verdant dress to another tall figure in the mix, though staying nowhere for overly long. Guarding her hand, then, as one should their drinks. Usually.

Richard Swift has posed:
Rapidly coming to the conclusion that this may not be his crowd, despite his active membership, Richard Swift makes his way over towards the bar to procure a libration of sorts. Perhaps ingesting that will alter inhibitions enough that this sort of raucous occasion will appear to be enjoyable to him.

Alison Blaire has posed:
Alison makes her way amongst the various revelers and knots of party people, flitting like a butterfly with the occasional little spin or twirl or other carefully calculated motion to make yet another strip of skin seemingly materialize through her shirt only to disappear again. And so far none of them have been daring enough to claim beads.

Indeed, despite the occasional catcall and hooted offer, the pop star seems less than fully dedicated to earning those beads. Of course, this leisurely and winding route means it takes her time to get a drink. And once she does, as fizzy and delicious as it is, she can't help but glance between the fruity cocktail and the garish, arguably alarming hue of the flute Lucy carries.

Indeed, Alison lets her eyes lock onto that concoction and stare at it for a moment like she's trying to discern its molecular makeup via sheer force of will.

And then there's all the more colour to admire! For one thing, that redhead who's towering and looking a tad uncomfortable... well, there's always one 'out of towner' at these things, isn't there?

And then eyes lock onto Janet and her spectacular outfit and Alison's leisurely wandering shifts so she can practically /appear/ alongside the fashionista to chime out, "Of /course/ you've outdone yourself again!"

She really only sounds a /tiny/ bit jealous.

Aldrif Odinsdottir has posed:
After she's brought another bubbly, Angela looks less annoyed and remembers her game, "Ah yes, thank you," she exceeding forces her thanks. She looks over everyone and spies this Alison careen in like she owns the place, and downs the drink again like the battle mistress she is, her red hair flailing about amidt her black headdress. She slowly and delicately places the glass down again, this time not breaking it. She still looks a tad bit uncomfortable so she looks up and over at the bar because she'll need to find even more drinks, then she looks down at Richard and others nearby, "Ah ha, this is where the drinks have been hidden," she says.

Sebastian Shaw has posed:
"I do what I can, Lady Croft," says Sebastian, offering a slow bow to Lara once more. "And I must say that I do truly wish you would make better use of your membership so that we might be graced more frequently with your company." He retrieves a glass of wine from a passing tray and turns his attention back towards her. "Truly, you uplift every gathering that you attend, and I again thank you for doing so at this one."

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet smiles approvingly up at Alison's gushing compliment. She doesn't seem at all surprised to see the singer, or that someone would rush up to her to compliment the socialite on her design.

"Oh, this old thing?" she asks with a non-existent humility. "I had an idea for Rio a few years back I never got around to delivering on. I thought I might bring it out since Sebastian was such a dear for hosting this little get-together," she explains, and makes the plumage fluff and settle with a little gesture.

Seriously, how it's all connected is a question for a structural engineer, because it doesn't look like the sort of thing someone with a background in fashion design could come up with on their own. Even the fragile, cage-like masque doesn't actually rest against Janet's face, so much as hover a few centimeters in front of her flawless skin.

Someone brings Janet a flute of champagne. Lara Croft gets a little side-eye as the Brit talks to Shaw but Janet focuses back on Alison a moment later. "What about you? Here to perform tonight? I'd say you've the best odds of getting those beads if that's your goal," she encourages, and grins brightly.

Lara Croft has posed:
There are so many attractive people in attendance tonight, that Lara has a hard time not allowing her gaze to wander across various people in their impressively designed attires. She knows Janet fairly well, and offers her a smile, along with a light wave of her free hand before that hand is delicately placed across her own stomach covered in the crimson fabric of her draped dress across her body. It is Sebastian, standing near, that pulls Lara's eyes back, and to him she grins yet again.

"Your flattery is well received." She tells him. "I certainly will try to. It has been quite a year, and it ended on a bang, to say the least... But between my duties here in New York, and back home in London, I feel half my life is being spent inside airplanes." She tells him in her naturally calming voice, laced with that British flavor to each word. She partakes in another sip from her own wine glass, before it is lowered down in front of her chest again, and she hums softly before drawing in a light breath through her pert nose. "I used to rather despise social events, when I was a little one. They're starting to grow on me though, when compared to some of the other variety of situations I've found myself in over the past decade." She tells Shaw further, before she smiles toward him again. "So I will commit to trying to be a more common face within your palace here..."

Richard Swift has posed:
Richard looks up. And up. Towards Angela, and offers her a warm smile. "Yes, a very clever ruse, I should say," he says with an extension of that smile. "If you would like, I would be more than happy to procure any of them that you would like on your behalf. I am somewhat acquainted with the ways of obtaining them."

Aldrif Odinsdottir has posed:
Angela looks at Lucy as she forgot her question for a second because she was trying to acquire more drinks, "Well it is a bit weak but I will just double my patronage," she says with some amusement, "Actually, I am playing a game--to be a polite socialite. My friends say I am actually quite loud and annoying," she tells Lucy. She leans back to the bar, "Ah yes, what a vantage point this is! This party is not so bad!" she lets out loudly as she looks out at the party again and then chuckles at Lucy, having forgot her game already.

Angela then looks at Richard as he speaks up and smiles, "Ah good! I know not the names. One strongass Migard bubbly!" she tells him and then lowers her voice, "Ahem yes, one of those for my friend here too," she motions to Lucy.

Sebastian Shaw has posed:
"It is not flattery if it is truth, Lady Croft, for as truth it is simply praise." Indeed, there are several impressively dressed, or undressed attendees, but for the moment it is the adventuress who has captured the entirety of Sebastian's attention. "I would jest crudely that I hoped it was at least the fun kind of 'bang', but I suspect that is sadly not what you mean." There is a twinkle in the man's eyes as he takes a sip from the wine, and he nods in understanding. "Before I took a step back from day to day operations at my company, I was like that. I needed a calendar and an assistant to know what day it was and what country I was in, and it was simply madness." He finishes off the glass of wine, depositing it on the tray of a passing attendant. "Which is why I much prefer simply being the host here, where I can remain in one place and get regaled by tales of the wild journeys of my treasured guests, and those I would call friends among them." Another glass of wine is retrieved from a passing attendant.

"I would also say that if you are finding yourself not inclined to join for such broadly attended gatherings as this, I would be pleased to have you be a more common face just on your own." He waves a hand to indicate the masses. "It may all be very well to have these parties when all can assemble, but truth be told I imagine that I could utterly lose myself for hours in your company simply listening to the unique perspective that you have upon the world." He flashes a grin. "And the steakhouse is not nearly so boisterous as this place is, if quiet conversation is something more to your liking than..." He waves a hand at a young couple a few feet away. "Gratuitous grinding and gyrating."

Quentin Quire has posed:
Reemerging from wherever it was he found himself, Quentin now has a drink in one hand; a slender flute of something bubbly at least, and a fistfull of beaded necklaces in the other. Not one of the coveted ebony or ivory beads still floating around for grabs at the party, but one of the nicer sets being sold at booths along the edges of the party. Something to toss into the crowd himself rather than something he's earned. Not likely that he'll earn himself a set unless he starts really working it, but at least he's well dressed. Flicking a set of beads to a woman with a wide grin and fewer feathers than a feather duster for her costume, he continues on through the crowd as it mills through the Club. He's got the "see and be seen" part of this life down pat, at least.

Richard Swift has posed:
Far be it for Richard Swift to pass up such an opportunity. It might be easy to assume someone referring to Earth as Midgard is mad, but he has met some of the residents of Asgard. And Angela certainly looks the part. "But of course."

He slips away to the bar, only to return a few minutes later with two fairly large flutes. "There are more potent potables, to be certain, but this as bubbly as they get." He extends one to Angela and one to Lucy.

Lucy Blaze has posed:
Lucy indulges in pressing the flute of the glass to her lips and whatever gleams inside practically shimmers against the humble flute. Rather enjoying the bouquet gives a chance to fortify herself against the calamities of socializing with strangers. Not more than a light brush of the liquor hits her lips, adding a varnish that glistens slightly in the ill-lit conditions of a club named for more than one kind of between state.

"You might enjoy a Sazerac, although it is not bubbly," she replies smoothly to Angela. Falling into the orbit that Richard himself occupies widens the social circle. A nod to the tall, bikini-clad woman. "Your aims are achieved then. Though I wonder, o purveyor of drinks, what might you acquire?" Her accent straddles some peculiar space of pan-European, restrained with just the slightest touch of sharpness in certain consonants that almost invoke a bite. "Given the opportunity. What better night than now to dare?"

She flicks her fingertip when Richard offers that drink to her, nodding. "A fair exchange. And what would you care for?"

Alison Blaire has posed:
Slim eyebrows perk from behind her tiny mask and Alison just grins brightly, "Oh no! I mean, I just needed to get out of the studio. It's been three months of nothing but chords, backup vocal arrangements, and like... a mansion full of schoolchildren? I needed something different and I figured it was party the night away or throw my lot in with some Brotherhood offshoot and do mutant terrorism."

Her shoulders rise and fall, "Besides, why would /I/ sing?! I'm just some anonymous blonde knockout!" She glances down at her artfully shredded concert shirt and hums out, "I mean, if I get some beads it's all jsut helpful for the stress relief."

She bites her lower lip for a moment, "Also I need to remember to add a New Orleans date on my next tour. Print up a new shirt design. Some lunatic cut my last one up for this party."

Selene Gallio has posed:
Something seems to catch Selene's eye. Perhaps it is an outfit. Perhaps a dancer. Perhaps one purchasing beads to dispense at the hopes of ... what, exactly?

Either which way, something inspires Selene to push herself from the wall and begin to stride towards the crowd, drifting her way easily among the gathered masses as if she were a salmon making her way to the spawning site. And thus she finds herself stopping just before Quentin, the delicate arch of an eyebrow appearing above the domino mask as she gazes at him, as if wondering just what it is that her presentation might earn from him in the currency of the day.

Lara Croft has posed:
The question and comment regarding the nature of her use of the word 'bang' has Lara lightly laughing toward Shaw. She shakes her head from side to side and lowers her glass after another sip of the contents within. "Not in that way, no. Not exactly anyway..." She trails off, as she watches him retreieve another glass, and yet further smiles at his kind offered words. "Well, we shall see. I've... resolved myself to cleaning up the mysteries left behind by my parents, and I think I've done a rather fine job of it so far. As fine a job as one could be expected to accomplish, under the circumstances really..." She states in a vague way, further hinting at the enigmatic activities that she busies herself with in life.

At the last comment and question, Lara smiles at the couple engaged in a sensual dance, admiring their passion and dedication to the art, if nothing else. She looks back to Sebastian then, and smiles toward him once more. "I can say with certainty that I won't be dancing like that. I am not even sure if I could if I wanted to. But..." She holds up her half empty glass. "I suppose if I down enough of these, anything is possible." She states, her voice and expression showing her light hearted, and happy mood in the moment.

Sebastian Shaw has posed:
"I find it interesting how many of us are motivated by our parents, and their unfinished business," muses Sebastian as he sips slowly at the wine. "But based around what you have told me, and what I have seen, you are doing your father's legacy proud, and I am sure that you are doing an exceptional job with it." A pause. "Circumstances being however difficult that they are, of course."

Sebastian's eyes drift over from the dancing couple to Lara once more, tilting his head ever so slightly at her comments. His face twists into a grin as he reaches up with his free hand to snap his fingers, and as if on cue, Lara is surrounded by three different attendants, each bearing their own glasses. Sebastian laughs as the joke comes to fruition, although he does take advantage of the opportunity to refresh his own supply, placing the empty on a tray and collecting a full one.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
It seems Janet's buried the hatchet with Lara, at least enough that she smiles back and mostly seems to mean it. Socialites gotta stick together, after all, and they're both of the sort of Old Money that appreciates the harsh reality of life for people tasked with being innately superior to everyone around them.

"I don't want to harsh your good time too much, but since you're here, I wanted to plant a business bug in your ear," Janet tells Alison. The socialite flares out her plumage and makes enough room to sit down, sitting down smoothly and crossing her bare legs. "My social media mammals tell me you've been taking off in your viewership lately. We'd like to do an affiliate deal and start supplying you with some more clothing. Not just the regular wardrobe choices, but also doing the costuming for your tours and public appearances. I've got this new girl on staff, she's right out of college, and she has some ideas for stage outfits that are to /die/ for. Are you interested in taking our business relationship to the next step?" she offers, with a flirty, shameless grin.,

Quentin Quire has posed:
As the queenly figure in (a little bit) of black interjects herself into his leisurely circuit of the room, Quentin of course comes to a stop. The press of people dancing and enjoying the evening's activities bumping against his back briefly before a small island of stillness opens up around the pair. There's an answering arch of one brown eyebrow but it's silenced by the shock of pink feathers climbing up the young man's forehead from his own half-mask, but the grin that forms across his lips is an entirely different type of answer as he regards Selene standing in his path.

Naturally his dark eyes are drawn to the expanse of pale cleavage the half-corset presents, cushioning that coveted chess piece as the string of beads rest about the woman's throat. Eyeballing that chess piece, or the cushion? Does it really matter though. Regaining his composure and looking Selene square in the eye, the young man dips first his chin and then his shoulders in a slight bow, "My queen..." he says, voice all but lost in the music filling the club. Admiring the chess piece on the way back up.

Aldrif Odinsdottir has posed:
Angela snatches up the drink from Richard and raises it to him in his honor, "You do us a great honor!" she says to him loudly and grins, "Yes, dear sir she's right! Where is your drink?! Ha! Come!" she says encouragingly and resists slapping him on the back because she's pretending to be a polite socialite. She instead clinks her glass with Lucy's and has some of it, though doesn't down it like a sailor, not this time anyway. She hmms as she thinks over what Lucy says and then replies, "Ah well, I am simple---you should try the 200+ proof witches brew from the Far Realms! Ha! That shall put hair on your tongue for sure!" she lets out and then clears her throat again, remembering her game, "Yes, tis not many who know me in this place, that is certain," she tells Lucy, "Are you a member of this Club?" she asks her, and looks at Richard too.

Selene Gallio has posed:
There is a slow nod of her head, half to the side, as Selene accepts Quentin's comment. She lifts one arm out to the side, the one not hindered by a glass of wine, and opens up her posture to the man. It is odd, perhaps, how there is that island of peace around them. Quentin doing his part to block them, but Selene seeming to have a small radius of tranquility amongt the sea of dancers.

The gesture should be clear. An invitation for Quentin to join her in that smaller radius.

Whether it is the chess piece or the chest piece that has acquired his attention, she seems willing to indulge in his interest.

Richard Swift has posed:
"Oh, I am quite fine, thank you," replies Richard to Lucy, inclining his head to her in gratitude. "I have long since come to the conclusion that I do not require alcohol to enjoy myself at events such as this, and in fact, I rather enjoy remaining sober and attentive to the details." Such as his glance between the two, perhaps, as he appreciates their forms.

At Angela's question, he pipes in. "In good standing, for several years now. As much as this is a chaotic mess, it is all the more enjoyable to come when it is not this sort of event. The enjoyment remains the same, and the excess is more palatable."

Lara Croft has posed:
The reassurance of her doing right by her father's legacy has Lara showing yet another warm expression toward Sebastian. "I certainly hope so... I'd share details on it, but I imagine much of it is not quite proper for this gathering." She notes, with a glance around their immediate area. Another warm expression is sent toward Janet and Alison, before Lara is surprised by the arrival of the three servers all dealing her a fresh drink at the same time. She's left raising her free left hand up toward her chest before she lets out a bubbling laugh that escapes between her painted lips. Lara actually laughing is a rarity all its own, as a woman of notorious wealth, she still grew up with two parents that died in separate tragedies, and thusly isn't known for being the most outgoing, or rambunctious of socialites.

Lara accepts a glass from the server that edged up closest to her, and with a gulp of the remaining bit of wine in her first glass, she exchanges with a soft 'thank you' offered to them.

Her brown eyes dart back over to Shaw, and she affords him a continued smile. "They certainly are a well oiled machine." She comments of his employees.

She samples the fresh drink, just a little sip, as she'd just down halfe a glass, and knows it'll likely start to hit her soon. "I'm an inexperienced drinker, admittedly. If they come again, I might start to question my ability to remain standing." She jokes with a half-smirk.

Alison Blaire has posed:
Alison's head tilts and she chimes out, "Business? Me? Why, I am but a mild mannered and meek partygoer, surely!" she demures, even as she lifts her mask up to scratch lightly at the bridge of her nose... for like, a solid ten seconds longer than even remotely necessary before that mask is replaced and Alison is right back to being not-Alison.

At least until Janet lays out the plan, "Oh. Yes. Totallyohmygodyesdefinitely! Did you bring a contract? Do I have to sign it in blood? I will sign it in blood! You just /point/ at someone and I will-"

She draws a slow, steadying breath. "I mean, yes. Of course. We'll have to meet up very soon and really /nail down/ the details. Hammer out the clauses. You know... business stuff." She manages not to grimace at the sheer thought of responsibility. Barely. Just barely.

Sebastian Shaw has posed:
A knowing, or if not knowing, at least understanding nod from Sebastian. "If you do wish to speak of it, please simply let me know the time and the place. I would be eager to hear such details as you wish to share, and of course, you have my pledge that if there were anything that I could do to render assistance, I would do so." He smiles broadly as he watches Lara laugh at the comical arrival of so many at his summons, but it grows broader as she actually does accept one of the drinks.

"As you said earlier, I do try to be the consummate host, and ensuring that my guest's needs are cared for is part of that." He eyes that smirk, and nods to her. "And that includes caring for our guests, should they find themselves in a condition that they are less than comfortable with. The very last thing we would want is any harm to befall you. We have several rooms prepared for any guests who require staying the night, and it is all at our complements." He places his glass of wine on a passing tray and does not retrieve another. "But you are always wise to stop before you feel that it has gone too far. It is not worth drinking to excess if it deprives you of decision making or recollection."

Lucy Blaze has posed:
Two glasses in hand and what is anyone to think of Lucy? She pauses for a moment when Angela raises her questions, and slants a knowing look back to Richard. "You must let us put this to rights if you want." The chime of her glass to the mate held in the redhead's hand rings soft and clear, a peal that would announce the impending doomsday hour if it could. "Salut. Is sobriety a limitation to enjoyment or a rarer quality to be praised? I would say you deserve those crowning beads for knowing and exceeding your limitations."

The situation may be a tad uncanny to have their doubled focus on him and maybe not at all. Worse considerations could exist, even if the smattering of glitter dusting the bridge of the white-haired woman's nose and across the artifice of a mask painted onto her skin -- along with so much else -- renders her quixotically not quite of the world.

While Lara declares herself an inexperienced drinker, this is not the case with Lucy. The champagne flute, not the one glimmering violet, is pressed to her lower lip so the rim just slightly draws a pout. Her fingers pinch the stem and she tilts her head back slightly, exposing the line of her throat to a merciless predator of public scrutiny. The ordeal of that much alcohol hits as the first spring melt, fresh and fierce, caught upon her tongue and captured in a languid swallow.

"Not grappa or slivovitz, but good." A slow swirl of the contents follow. "Not this particular incarnation, no. I came to see if the excesses equal or surpass the legend."

Quentin Quire has posed:
As graciously as the offer is extended, Quentin accepts it just as graciously, stepping forwards into that smaller radius. And straightening is back to grab for every inch he can get as Selene doesn't quite tower above him, but he finds himself staring eye to eye with that chest piece nestled cozily rather than the woman herself.

Well that is new.

The discomfiture lasts only a moment, and none of it shows across the half of his face that isn't hiding behind formed ceramic and fanciful feathers, as he tilts his chin to better look Selene in the eye. "May as well just give these back to the vendor..." he says before briefly wetting his lips with a sip from the tall flute in hand, the other rattlign the beads briefly. "....since you seem to already have the best set on the floor..." he finishes with a cocky young grin and a flick of his eyes towards the chess piece. Yes, the chess piece. Really......
...maybe.

Selene Gallio has posed:
"Oh you /are/ an adorable one," purrs Selene as Quentin offers his praise of her chest, or chess, or some combinationof the two. That free hand reaches out to brush against the edge of his mask, careful not to disturb it, before it drifts down to rest upon his shoulder. "And yes, that is certainly a lesson worth learning. Nothing can ever be bought that rivals that which is granted by principle."

She moves fluidly in rhythm to the music as she allows Quentin to drift within her orbit, her eyes casing him once and then twice before leaning over to bring her lips over towards his ear, a message intended for him and him alone.

Aldrif Odinsdottir has posed:
Angela nods to what Richard says and replies more evenly, "Perhaps you are waiting for something? You are wise to not let the endulgement dull your senses in any case," she comments like someone might if she were thinking about battle and hunting.

Angela then adds, "Luckily, I am not from Migard so I can endulge in another!" she says and smiles, having another sip of the drink Richard gave her. She does it kinda the opposite of the eloquent Lucy, tilting it back like she were simply at a baseball game. She doesn't wipe her mouth or scratch herself though, maybe because she's trying to be a polite socialite.

Looking back at Lucy, Angela says, "Ah, I see. A student of socialing, hmm? I should speak to you about parties then, yes? Seems you art a socialite amongst socialites. Perhaps not from this world like myself?" she wonders.

Lara Croft has posed:
Lara emits a soft sound of slight inner turmoil as she weighs her options. Her eyes flicker around the room again, toward some of the other party attendees, some enjoying the beads and the games that come along with them, as the alcohol begins to settle in on the patrons here tonight. "I have a place down in the village, just west of Washington Square Park. It is not hard to grab a ride there, if I do need it, but... I'm sure the rooms here are as nice as one could ever hope to find." She replies to Sebastian, as she indulges in another sip of the red wine sloshing about gently within her glass.

"And I probably should share some of my stories, some time, but the recent ones... come with no small amount of peril, and quite a lot of terrible results at my seemingly boundless narcissism, the kind that are somewhat embarrassing for my own ego. I've pushed people away, you see." She tells Shaw, smirking softly again as she glances down at herself in her red dress, the kind of attire she's still not all that comfortable being adorned within. "We've all made mistakes though, I suppose. That is part of living, right?" She asks him then, smiling in a more reserved manner, before her glass is raised up for another sampling taste.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet gives Alison a level look at her sudden burst of excitement. "Do I look like I have a contract on me?" she asks, a little rhetorically. The outfit definitely doesn't lend itself to any kind of pockets or portable storage. Aside from a few tastefully added layers of artificial dimension, the dress is wrapped around her body like a second skin. "My lawyers will call your lawyers, people talking, etc. etc. We don't have to deal with it tonight. I'm just here to enjoy myself," she says, and flashes a sudden, mercurial smile.

She gets to her feet and curls a finger at Alison in a 'come along' gesture and walks over to where Lara and Shaw are talking. Janet interposes herself rather expertly at a gap in the covnersation and rests fingers on Shaw's arm to get his attention, then beams a devastating smile up at him and rises on her tip-toes to exchange polite air-kisses. "Sebastian, this party is a triumph as always," she praises him. "I'm so glad we're having this little get-together. I think you know Alison Blaire, right?" she says, and makes the introduction with a wave of her hand. "And of course Lady Lara Croft, this is Alison-- one of my favorite singers. She was the one who performed at Nadia's birthday a few years ago," she prompts.

Quentin Quire has posed:
This may be the first time in about 20-odd years that someone has called Quentin adorable, but it doesn't shatter that composure as Selene touches his cheek and then his shoulder. The purchased beads disappear into the pocket of his slacks, half of the length dangling out and bumping against his thigh as the young man moves to keep pace with Selene as she glides so fluidly through that small sea of stillness. Freeing that hand to first hover over the woman's bare hip, and then to settle lightly there as she leans in close to whisper in his ear.

Whatever is said brings a grin to the young man's features, and the reply is equally private.

Richard Swift has posed:
There are rare occasions that come up in one's life. Even one as long lived as Richard Swift. And capturing the attention, even if fleeting, of two women such as Lucy and Angela represents a true rarity of possibiliy. And as such, it is one that Richard is thoroughly disinclined to dismiss.

"Your point is well taken," he offers to Lucy. "And perhaps there are times that call for a change, or a risk to be taken." He bows his head briefly to her. "I shall therefore graciously accept any drink that you might select that you think may be of my liking." He looks towards Angela. "I had not thought I was waiting for anything, but perhaps that simply means that I had not yet found what I was clearly waiting for."

Alison Blaire has posed:
Alison's eyebrows lift high as she eyes Janet slowly and thoroughly, "I mean, it /looks/ like parts of that could shift and fold and do like a magic eye poster thing /into/ a contract." She says this with absolute conviction, like despite Janet's entirely logical explanation of how business deals go, she's /pretty/ sure it's a double bluff and that outfit is in fact the contract. Somehow.

But she's got more important things to pay attention to in a moment, like that curling, beckoning finger that draws her along with a little spring in her step. She's not sure where Janet's leading her, but when it turns out to be joining Sebastian Shaw and Lara Croft? Well, dang. Sure, she's famous, and rich, but like... there's 'pop star rich' and then there's 'Runs the Hellfire Club' and 'Owns a manor' rich.

It only seems right to do her best shot at a curtsey with her oversized razored t-shirt as the 'dress', which does likely mean a certain amount of the crowded party gets quite the view of flattering angle.

Sebastian Shaw has posed:
"We also have a number of vehicles ready to whisk our guests home as well, if they are in need. Our hospitality is certainly offered, but transit is also a service." Sebastian's smile does not waver as he regards Lara. "Truly, it is whatever you would find yourself most comfortable with."

The talk of stories intrigues him, and he drifts a bit closer so that she could lower her volume if she wished. "I must confess that I can lay no small number of mistakes at the feet of my own ego and hubris, so none of us are truly free of such afflictions." He nods in agreement. "We all make mistakes, and the challenge is simply whether we overcome those mistakes, or if we fall victim to them a second time."

As Janet manifests at his elbow, Sebastian turns and beams a smile at her, matching the air kisses. "It is certainly not a party until you arrive, Janet." He turns to regard Alison and nods. "I am not sure that we have had the pleasure of speaking, but I am rather familiar with her music, yes. Welcome to the Hellfire Club, Ms. Blaire."

Lucy Blaze has posed:
"Indulge in the whole bottle if you want." Such careless consideration for the famed cellars of the Hellfire Club might be eyebrow raising in their own right, but not exactly given the well-heeled clientele steeped in every petty vice and few encroaching on cardinal ones. It would hardly be sporting to exclude the latter on grounds of heavy penalties. Whilst contracts are sorted out with the standard greetings between the two entertainment stars, Zannah of Khera adopts that slow, mutable smile for only a moment. She wears the expression as lightly as the jewels spangling bare limbs and lobes and chests in equal measure, and equal in its potential false imitation of the real thing.

If real then such a glimpse is precious enough to outstrip lesser FTSE companies' annual revenues. "You possess uncommon wisdom. Knowing when to stand to the wind or go with it is more than passing rare," she declares. A dropped octave coats bluntness in the veneer of conversational sensibility. Her empty glass is deposited on a gleaming tray without looking back, an extension of sublime hospitality to honour the hosts. Richard is assessed again, and then she breaks any uncomfortable pause. "Have you been asked what you do like?"

Chances are he may not be after purple witches brews' by a woman from the Far Realms. It fits all the boxes. Then to Angela, she adds, "I am a student and traveller in the world. Places like this take everyone in. Though it does not always let them out." Marked by the harsh glitter of her eyes in that shadowed mask painted across her skin, her expression settles into a neutral mask. Taut lines tease her posture in the very limited range in which she can move without the whole woven fabrication - a tapestry - of her garments being proven as what they are. "So what will you make of a night, both of you? Or a life? Let it be long -- and an amusement if within my means to give, considered."

Selene Gallio has posed:
It would seem tht Quentin's response to Selene's words amuses her, lips twisting into a smile as she leans slightly back towards her own pole of the orbit. As that amusement dances within her eyes, she slowly drifts back, enough to disengage his hand from her, and her from his. Her fingers reach up behind her head and lift the length of beads slowly, dragging that chess piece along her skin until she can draw it forward and past her head, to hang freely.

As the music moves, so too does she, until she finds herself just before him once more. Her hand moves past his head, and fingers open to drop the length of beads around his neck before she leans in, once more to whisper into his ear.

Her message delivered, she turns around, brushing briefly against his form before making her way through the crowd which seems to part for her, off to the side of the room.

Lara Croft has posed:
The response that Sebastian gives to Lara, has her smiling yet more toward him. As he speaks closer toward her, she allows her eyes to convey the amusement that his words draw from within her. "My narcissism is seemingly boundless, as is your kindness as a host, Mister Shaw." She fires back to him in a coy style, mere moments before Janet and Alison arrive at their sides. As the air kisses are offered, and introductions are given, Lara exchanges her wine glass from her right hand to her left, then offers the curtsying Alison her right hand, a light grip with a slightly calloused palm earned through countless hours of free solo climbing rock faces all across the world...

"The Dazzler, correct?" Lara asks with a sweet smile. "My friend, Jonah, has a picture of you up in his office at his restaurant. He'd absolutely flip if he knew you were here, but it was his idea to send me here tonight... to get me out of my flat, with a bowl of ice cream and a whining German Shepherd as my birthday companion." She tells Alison, before her eyes flicker over to Janet.

"Janet..." Lara says with a warm affection, as they both share a certain trait these days. "You look absolutely radiant... but I'm sure you've heard that a few times before." She tells the fashionista, before another sip of her drink is partaken in.

Quentin Quire has posed:
As they move through that small space, there's a curious tilt to Quentin's head as Selene considers whatever answer he gave. As she drifts back out of his reach the young man seems to take that as his answer, the wattage on that cocky young grin dimming only a little bit as he takes another drink from the flute.

You miss 100% of the shots you don't take, after all.

As the crowd parts before too long and the queen in black is pressing against Quentin for that briefest contant there's a momentary look of surprise in the young man's eyes, before the coveted set of beads settles down over his shoulders, the chess piece dangling over that godawfully pink bowtie of his.

And then Selene is drifting off through the crowd, leaving behind a thoughtful looking young man, draining the flute of its contents as he lifts the chess piece in his other hand, twisting it about on the tips of thumb and forefinger, pondering whatever it is the woman whispered to him as she dropped the beads around his neck.

Aldrif Odinsdottir has posed:
Angela smiles now and looks pleased at what Richard might be drinking soon, "That's right! Now you art at the bidding of this woman's choice! You had best speak up and give suggestion!" she laughs at this turn of events, then looks at Lucy as if it were a sporting event, and the choice were of great interest.

"I think it would be quite interesting to learn of your choice of drink, my lady," she comments and smiles, pausing a bit as if considering what Lucy says, the party, and her place in the Universe. Lucy maybe brings her back to Earth as it were, and her mysterious ribbons finally show themselves, as if playing around her shoulders like a cockerspaniel, "You certainly do have a way with words. Amusement is of some great advantage---at times yes, I can forget myself and even be a socialite. None shall doubt my boldness ever again, I think," she says.

Richard Swift has posed:
There is a moment of consideration on the face of Richard Swift, and then he considers Angela's point. To that, he simple shakes his head. "If I am to consign myself to the vagaries of fate for the duration of this evening, then I may as well begin now." He turns his gaze back towards Lucy. "I would ask you to make the selection, as clearly you have far greater familiarity than I do with these intoxicants. Choose one, choose two, however you choose, I shall follow."

Selene Gallio has posed:
Once freed of the grip of the dance floor, Selene makes her way along its periphery. She glances over towards Sebastian and taps the pedestal upon which her chess piece had previously rested as indication to him, and then retrieves one more glass of wine before making her way out of the party. Her mission for the evening, it seems, has been completed.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Lara gets cheek-kisses and a quick hug too, and Janet breaks with a little squeeze of Lara's upper arm. "I get told that frequently, but that doesn't mean I get tired of it," she promises the British aristocrat. "Or that anyone should refrain from an opportunity to bring it up," she adds, for the benefit of Alison and Sebastian.

Janet certainly does thrive on flattery and attention, after all. It's probably like electrolytes for her. Shaw's statement is rewarded with a similar, beaming smile of approval. It's mostly true, after all.

"I'm just glad to see the Hellfire Club keeping up the social end of the stick," Janet compliments Shaw. "As much as I love putting in an apperance whenever the Met is begging for money, there just aren't a lot of places for people of refinement to show up and..." she purses her lips, thinking. "Well, let our hair down, so to speak. Especially somewhere with such a finely stocked bar," she adds, and toasts Shaw with her champagne flute. "You'll have to tell me where your sommelier found this. It's absolutely divine. But it doesn't taste French," she says with a smack of her lips. "Do we get a clue or are you going to leave us languishing in wonder?"

Alison Blaire has posed:
Alison grins lopsidedly and bobs her head to Lara, "The same! I mean, you know, being 'the' Dazzler always seems a little silly when I come here." She makes a show of looking around, "After all, /everyone/ winds up putting in the effort to be dazzling!"

And then she's flashing a grin to Sebastian, "Oh, I don't think we've had the pleasure. Just the usual applause when you do the introductions to these big events. And I usually don't manage to carve out time to drop by for the more casual offerings the club has." She heaves out a sigh, "The paradox of an exclusive and yet remarkably secure club. It's perfect to relax and unwind at without causing a scandal, but you do your job so well that publicists always insist that I've got to go somewhere I can be seen, you know? But it's lovely to make your acquaintance properly!"

Quentin Quire has posed:
One might miss 100% of the shots they never take, and they may even miss the shots they do take. But there's always the chance at a rebound lay-up. Pondering the coveted chess piece, his ticket to the world of the Hellfire Club free and clear for a year, Quentin drifts through the crowd until he comes up on a server, setting down his empty flute and snatching up a second one. Only to drain that flute and snatch up a third.

Whatever decision there was to make, Quentin looks to have made it as he moves through the crowd towards the exit. Not running and not exactly rushing either, but he's definitely gently nudging people aside to clear a path.

Sebastian Shaw has posed:
There certainly is nothing but a bright expression on Sebastian's face as Janet and Alison arrive, and he steps back a bit from Lara to make the physical arrangement of the conversation a bit more conducive. Might there have been a flicker of disappointment at the way his conversation with Lara was left hanging? Maybe. But it fades quickly enough.

"It is rather nice to be able to come here and not feel the pressures of being seen by the public," he echoes towards Alison, before looking to Janet. "That _particular_ vintage, if you can believe it, I believe actually comes from..." He glances around for a moment before leaning in to lower his voice. "Germany. If you can believe it." He straightens. "I was dubious myself, but as you say, my sommelier is among the best in the world, and what do I pay him for if not to trust his word for it?"

Aldrif Odinsdottir has posed:
Angela nods to Richard and motions to her new friend Lucy, "I shall leave you in my new friend's care then. I had forgotten I must be off. A pity we can't finish more drinks," she says, "Ah, perhaps if I can procure another invitation," she tells Lucy and Richard. She puts down the glass on the bar where they are standing and says, "Have a good night."

Lucy Blaze has posed:
Lucy responds to Richard's choice with a nod. Her countenance remains shuttered in thought for several long moments. "Very good." Pale sentiments for a daring offer, especially when Richard puts himself at the whims of his drinking companions. All this because he willingly fetched a glass or two, proof that a good deed fills in the potholes on the route somewhere south and toasty.

She presents the glass she's nursed all along to Angela, which is to say it lacks more than the faintest print of her lips. The level hasn't changed since she took it. "Please hold this? If you cannot, I will cross your path again. I am sure." The question with its accustomed please has an almost stiff quality, and those wiggly ribbons emerging from the space-bikini-clad redhead really deserve a double-take. They do not get one. Considering that her own outfit is all but an overglorified ribbon itself, she is not one to talk. "You excel where you hone yourself. Never doubt your talents. Boldness suits you."

Complimentary words delivered like a verdict might be new. She departs from company in a slinky wiggle of a walk enforced by the ombre pearl to bloodbath of a gown, and collects a few beads tossed haphazardly by attendees impressed by whatever catches their eye. Fissures that hint at her pale skin, perhaps, but she actually stitches the snapped string into her skirt to hold a length of it closed. Reaching the bar is hardly a task, but getting the specific order probably raises eyebrows. Not the least why someone bothers with blackberry liqueur, absinthe, and an assortment of shots. Mixing drinks is a little like alchemy conducted at the barside, poured out into a shaker requested and paid for with a smirk and a level look.

The real magic isn't in the flick of the wrist or portioning out splashes of this or that. A stir stick and incantation will do that.

Lara Croft has posed:
Lara places her wine glass between the fingertips of both of her hands in front of her stomach, as her eyes drift from one of her conversationlist partners to the other. She smiles warmly toward Janet, ever amused by the woman's bravado and demeanor, before her eyes drift toward Alison again. "I certainly do not know how it must be to be in your shoes, but I would imagine you crave opportunities to be yourself, rather than a stage performer. I would think it would be a bit like a super hero alias, in a way, in so far as to say that on stage you're somewhat of a different person than you are at a place like this, where you can be more akin to what is in your heart?" She states in a question-like fashion. She lets out a little short laugh there-after, however as she shakes her head at herself. "Two glasses of wine, and I already sound like a fool though..." She states to bring herself down a bit.

At the talk of the wine, Lara glances at her own glass, before sampling it again. Her 'wine game' is not quite as high as the others near her, but she knows enough to know this is certainly delicious.

"Well, wehrever it is from, I'm glad to get to enjoy it." She softly adds to the talk, before raising her free left hand up to her brow where she brushes her loose bangs back from the sides of her face, in a futile effort to aside them, only to have them wave right back in to place again.

Richard Swift has posed:
As Lucy heads off to arrange for Richard's concotion, he bows his head to the departing Angela. "Take care," he says. His gaze returns to study Lucy, following her retreating figure and, to whatever extend he can, trying to track just what is it that she is having the bar create on his behalf. Deciding shortly thereafter that he can draw no such conclusions, and is soon to find out, he simply decides to be patient and await her return.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
When Lucy passes near the bar, Janet gives her outfit a flickering, quick appraisal. It's not one of her designs, that's obvious enough, but she can't quite place it either, and that gives her pause as she regards the sanguine attire with an analytical, near-frown on her face.

Alison gets a little nudge from Janet as her attention returns to the conversation at hand. "Oh you haven't seen the half of it, dear," Janet promises Alison with a dry amusement in her voice. "This is pretty tame as far as Hellfire Galas go. Shaw's thrown some parties that make even me blush." Janet's been a member at the Club since the day she turned 18, and despite not being a member of the Inner Circle, she's as active as one can be while not engaging in politics. Spotting Lara's trouble with her bangs, Janet sets the drink aside and offers to help Lara with a little emergency hairdressing to pin the brown locks back in place.

"But seriously, Sebastian. German? You're having fun with me," Janet accuses, looking back at Shaw. "I never would have guessed. The palate is wonderfully developed. Seriously, you'll have to let me in on the secret," she says, and wheedles up at Shaw with her most gratuitously flirtations smile.

Sebastian Shaw has posed:
"I consider it my duty to push every boundary that my guests wish to have pushed." Sebastian pauses. "Respectfully, of course, and always with enthusiastic consent." He looks back towards Janet. "This one pushes me far beyond, as well," he says, favoring her with a warm smile. "And if you truly wish, I have an unopened bottle that I would offer as a gift to you, Janet, with the promise that you will share it with someone special."

He turns his attention back towards Lara. "I think you have truly stumbled upon the real value of the Hellfire Club, precisely. Where all of us are spectacular, none of us stand out as being such, and we can simply exist." ALthough if pushed, Sebastian would likely admit that he is more spectacular than most. "As I have said, I truly hope that you grant us the honor of your presence more often. I think you will find it therapeutic to spend time here."

Lucy Blaze has posed:
Lucy needs a little longer to complete her work. No garnishes change the drink once poured into a highball glass. She looks at her work critically, the frown upon her lips and a hard line to her brow telling. One final swirl of the swizzle stick and it all presumably comes together. This largesse has a cost covered by a card slipped across the bar. When the transaction is complete, then she steps away with the libation in hand.

Avoiding couples dancing or others squeezing up to the bar to acquire a drink, she has to run the gauntlet back to Richard. The long skirt makes that difficult, even with its more generous seam allowance on the left side with a few Mardi Gras beads employed as embellishment. Swiveling and turning to thread the perilous deer path, she is delivered through clotted numbers. Scarlet ribboning runs frayed and ragged in places, though the assembled cuts and splits where imperfect overlapped lengths meet could just be sartorial artifice.

Still, he will have his drink. She holds it out. "A classic recipe updated for the time." The faint scent of rum and absinthe are clear enough, the colour as stormy as a sweltering night in the Big Easy.

Lara Croft has posed:
Lara had an interesting dichotomy of an upbringing, which is to say for the first 12 years of her childhood she was raised with all the etiquette training one would expect for a young Duchess. But in to her teenage years, she shifted gears to be cared for by a friend of her father's, and a former military special forces soldier. Because of this, she's left with the hints of both styles within her, such as being able to dress quite nicely, clean up quite well, while still struggling with the finer details, which Janet is now rushing over to aid her with. Lara stands still, allowing Janet to adjust her hair, a smile residing on her lips while the process is handled. "Thank you." Lara says quietly. "I threw myself together in the last moments before grabbing a ride up to this part of the city..." She explains, as she finishes off her second glass of wine.

With it completed, and her face now entirely unobstructed by her rich locks of chestnut hair, Lara offers a grin toward Sebastian. "I am ready for you to do your summoning trick again, and refresh my glass." She teases him as she has but a single sip left in the glass within her hand. "And after that, I am sure I'll sign up to become a more regular face around here." She says with a clear growing tone of humor playing within her words.

Richard Swift has posed:
Her return is studied just as much as her departure was. Richard gives Lucy a smile as she brings forth the drink, and he takes it with no complaint. "I am sure that you have selected something utterlyh delightful for me,"he murmurs before moving it over to take a sip. His reaction might have been expected, showing something of a surprised reaction to the flavor complexion, but he manages to overcome that to take a second sip, feeling it warm down his throat.

"Ah, a lovely selection, I should say." And then finally, he offers his free hand as it shake. "Richard," he offers by way of introduction,.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"You're such a dear, Sebastian," Janet compliments her host, and gives his drinking wrist an approving and appreciative squeeze. "I promise not to pour it on anyone's tits or drink it after I've been bar crawling," she promises-- and while it's meant to be funny, there's clearly a little truth in her words with those assurances, too.

Janet drains her drink and hands the glass off to someone nearby. Hopefully it's a waiter, and not just someone Janet appraises and dismisses in a glance. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go trade barbs with Mrs. Someset. Her daughter and I went to boarding school together and I always enjoy reminding that haggard old bitch that I'm the reason Melissa was able to take over the family business." She smiles brilliantly at Shaw, gives Lara's arm another quick pat, and then turns to favor another part of the party with her illustrious presence.

Lucy Blaze has posed:
Delivery sees through the obligation, and wouldn't Angela be proud of someone fulfilling their debt? Success hinges on smaller matters than merely getting from point a to b. The flavour of the cocktail disguises the punch its rather high alcoholic content contains, and moreover the smoothing rum conceals the ambient heat the concoction is bound to leave in its wake. The blackberry presence is merely tart to cut the sweeter rum. Bite comes later.

Zannah raises a shoulder slightly. Her perfunctory reply is, like the rest, deliberate in its restraint. "Celebration calls for something special. I would not come back only with a Negroni or a Zombie." Her hands fold over her hip, off-center, pliant to the fragile contrapposto pose she adopts. "Lucy." Fingers break their clasp not that long after they forged it, and she takes his hand. A light, easy shake follows, but the canvas of calluses that no amount of cream or care can buff away after fifteen millennia have their own rare story to tell. "That is a sipping drink. It comes into its own after a time." The lingering smile is faint, and then she watches Janet in that luxurious dress bloom as a flower in a hothouse garden.

Sebastian Shaw has posed:
"I would not have known that this was a hasty assemblage," offers Sebastian as he regards Lara, his smile remaining warm as he continues. "Rest assured, if you wished for it, your stream of drink would be endless." If she gives indication, truly, that she wishes another, an attendant will arrive in short order. "And yes, I do look forward to you being around here more. You may call upon me at any time."

Turning towards Janet, he simply sighs. "Do true to respect the wine." And with that, he turns his attention back towards Lara, ensuring that she obtains whichever she requires most - additional drink, a ride home, or local accommodations.

Once again, the Hellfire Club Mardi Gras has been a success in his books.