1751/The Disaster Artist

The Disaster Artist
Date of Scene:	20 May 2020
Location:	The Strait Lace Steakhouse - Hellfire Club
Synopsis:	A night of misfortune at the Hellfire Club leads to Sebastian Shaw and Tessa encountering Felicity Felix.
Cast of Characters:	Sebastian Shaw, Tessa, Felicity Felix

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Sebastian Shaw has posed:
Tuesday isn't the busiest night for the Straight Lace Steakhouse, which might be one reason that Sebastian Shaw has chosen to take his dinner here this evening. He's tucked away at a private table, with space enough for six, but the only other person present is his faithful assistant Tessa. He's about halfway through a bone-in Filet Mignon and lobster, speaking in-between bites of food and sips of a fine red wine.

"Starting to sound like Stark is out of the race. See if you can find any signs that his campaign is disbanding. Might be a long shot but if Lex can poach some of his internet outreach personnel it'll be a real coup."

Tessa has posed:
    Tessa would appear, at a glance, to somehow be utterly disinterested in the meal before her, but enough of it is missing to disprove that. She's just... Tessa. Precautons have been taken to keep her smart skirtsuit clean, and that is, presently, her second highest priority above enjoying herself.
    The first, as always, is Shaw. "Of course, Sir." She answers dilligently. "Given how... sudden the departure appears to be, many in his employ are likely stunned and desperate for work. They can easily be accomidated." There is a slight inclination of her head. "And should they hold any hard feelings towards Mr. Stark, their recollections of his behavior may prove useful in the future."
    Not they she expects Tony Stark to jump back INTO the race after this, in this or any election cycle, but... it never hurts to have smear stories in your back pocket. Or employess who are VERY grateful to you, and specifically resentful of others!

Felicity Felix has posed:
At the bar, there is sudden shouting as a big, burly man erupts from his stool. A slinky little blonde in a red dress is hurrying after him, but the big man is having nothing of it. "It's not like that, it's not what you--" "I saw the text, Ariel. It's over." "But--!"

Another person appears to be tearing up as they look at their phone. They close it and order an entire bottle of something French. And old.

At a nearby table, a meatball goes flying, and lands in the soup of one of the city's minor villains, who was laying low. She starts to rise in anger while someone that looks like a handler tries to calm her. The man who flung the meatball appears to say something unfortunate, which only escalates the situation.

Occurances like this have been happening for a while now, and the only thing that hasn't changed is a young woman with brown hair, in an unassuming Little Black Dress. She's slumped on an elbow next to a glass of water, with a briefcase on the ground next to her. She's got a vacant stare, and the bartender is watching her sidelong. After a while, he makes eye-contact with Shaw, making the motion that the girl in the black dress hasn't bought anything and probably won't. She's taking up valuable space.

If scanned or ID'd, the woman is Felicity Felix. Unemployed, and of no importance.

Sebastian Shaw has posed:
Both Shaw and his assistant are, at a minimum, observant people. Tessa more so than Shaw, but Shaw himself is no slouch, and he's a consummate host. Rising tensions in the establishment are something that he takes note of. Blue eyes narrow as he studies the various players on this particular stage, pausing in his meal.

"Tessa, tell the staff to comp Miss Lincoln's meal and drinks before she murders someone."

He catches the bartender's look, and nods to the man, wiping his mouth precisely with a napkin and rising to his feet to cross over to where the bartender and Felicity are, leaning up alongside the bar and studying Felicity just long enough before asking:

"Is there something we can help you with, young lady? I can assure you both the drinks and the food here are both excellent, though I am a bit biased on that score."

Tessa has posed:
    Tessa's powers of observation are... literal. At least as a side effect. It's very nearly a problem. And as a result, Tessa's eyes seem to wander as peculiar things happen with greater frequency around them, her hazel eyes gazing outward into the restaurant distractedly. Minor mishaps. Inconveniances. Dropped silverware. The occasional ruined meal.
    Peculiar.
    And not universal, it would seem.
    "... Yes, Sir." She says a little distractedly, and begins to stand up. The high heel of her right boot snaps off immediately, and she stumbles, catching herself on the table with both hands. The lurching forward motion causes her glasses to fall off of her face. A hand moves to catch them, but they bounce off of her grasping fingers, and fall into a glass of water.
    Tessa generally doesn't get frustrated, and even less frequently lets it show.
    She presses her lips together very tightly for a moment however, as she fishes her glasses out of the glass and quietly dries them with a handkerchief.
    The handkerchief tears as she pulls it from the collar of her shirt.
    There is a bit of hobbling to be done that she tries to underplay as much as possible as she passes on her instructions, and makes her way back to Shaw, murmuring, "... Sir, there is an... inexplicable pattern of misfortune at work that only our... guest appears to be immune to." She says, quietly so hopefully only he can hear.

Felicity Felix has posed:
Felicity Felix looks up slowly at Mr. Shaw, not recognizing him in the slightest. "Oh...hi." She frowns a bit, looking dejected. "I'm sorry, is it time to go?" She frowns a bit, her eyes straying down from his. "I was supposed to meet someone here. For a job interview." Her eyes lift to his, and she shrugs a bit. "That was an hour ago, and I don't think he's coming."

At the very moment Tessa finishes her explanation, Felicity looks her way and smiles with a small wave. "Oh, hi, nice outfit--"

Outside, a thundrous *krakoom* of lightning striking something outside makes Felicity jump in her seat, and the bartender was in the middle of spinning a bottle for a trio of drunk clients who were egging him on. His hand slips with the thunderbolt, and the bottle continues downward, striking the edge of the bartop, and shattering into a dozens of glittering shards. Felicity's head turns slightly toward the noise in alarm, already on edge, "What was--"

Then the glass shards bounce.

And each and every one of them flies in improbably horrific angles toward a patron.

Sebastian Shaw has posed:
Sebastian Shaw is a man of many talents and abilities, but super-speed is not one of them. He can only watch while several of his customers are lightly cut, or find bits of glass in their food or drink.

"The hell?"

Shaw queries in astonishment, cursing under his breath he commands, "Comp anyone affected, with an additional voucher for another evening. And close the dining room until we manage to get this mess cleaned up."

He looks back to Felicity now, eyes narrowing, "I /was/ going to say that it's not time to go, but if you are somehow the cause of all this..." He gestures vaguely, "Chaos, then I may, for the good of my customers, have to request it. That said, if you have the capability to control this...whatever it is, I would suggest you exercise it, immediately."

Shaw's cell phone beeps insistently, and he plucks it up, studying it with an annoyed frown that quickly turns to something more grave.

"How the...?" He scowls, "I've just lost half a billion dollars on the Hong Kong Exchange." The fact that he's not -murderously- angry about that might suggestion just how many of those billions with a capital "B" Shaw has. He's almost casual as he mentions to Tessa, "Keep an eye on it, but I'm inclined to ride it out."

Tessa has posed:
    Tessa's gaze sweeps from the mild chaos behind them, back towards Felicity. Shaw's predicament is met with an even "My condolences, Sir." That seems free of both regret or derision, further implying the loss is not so severe, though Tessa is not inclined to roll her eyes at it. Business is business. "Yes, sir." She says, and reaches for her phone... before she thinks better of dealing with any electronics right this second, and leaves it where it is. She looks at Felicity and very firmly says. "Please leave, ma'am."

Felicity Felix has posed:
"No, no, it's not--" Her eyes are wide and her hands are up at her sides. She looks just as shocked and horrified as anyone else. When the lost money is being discussed, her eyes move aside, and she turns her head a bit, glass shards falling from where they lodged in her hair. "...It's not me," she says, more to herself than anyone else. She doesn't sound so sure though.

Tessa's firm command snaps her attention back and she nods, leaning down to grab her briefcase. Stepping off the stool, she slips on a piece of glass and skips off the edge of the raised ledge, collapsing with a sharp yelp onto her side. Clamouring to her feet, she skids around on glass pieces until she can finally get her legs under her. Her stockings and dress are lightly torn here and there, but she nods quickly, holding up her hands, one with a briefcase. "Going, going! So sorry!"

For a moment, she stops to look across the mayhem of rich, angry people. Thunder crashes outside, and lightning flashes through the windows. She looks terrified. Horrified. And without a word, she starts to power-walk for the door, swallowing hard as if expecting to fall at any moment. Someone shouts and hammers a table, sending a fork flying end over end. It whizzes past Felicity's face, and all she does is stop for one half second. It thunks, prongs first, into the far wall. Then she's moving again for the exit.

Sebastian Shaw has posed:
"I believe it may well be." Shaw doesn't sound...angry, exactly. "And if it is...if this is a regular occurrence for you, then it is something you must learn to control." Shaw is vehement without being heated in this matter, even reaching to help the girl up and steady her, but then she's power-walking away, and Shaw shakes his head, looking back to Tessa, "In denial, I think." He leans closer to Tessa and murmurs something only for her ears, before taking a half-step back and speaking more normally. "Keep on top of the Hong Kong Exchange and the Stark situation. I'm going to canvass the rest of the businesses and see if any other such...accidents have occurred. I'll meet you upstairs in a couple of ours, at most."

Tessa has posed:
    "Evidently." Tessa agrees shortly, a twitch of her eyebrow being the sole tell to her consternation as she balances awkwardly without a heel. She'll need to fix this quickly. Appearances are important.
    To the whisper, she gives a quiet nod, quickly devoting some processing power to turning certain options over in her head even as she replies to Shaw's more audible orders, "Very good, Sir. I will see you then."