19003/HFC: Party Like It Is The End Of The World

HFC: Party Like It Is The End Of The World
Date of Scene:	09 September 2024
Location:	Lobby - Hellfire Club
Synopsis:	With the potential end of the world on the way in the form of an insatiable alien being, the Hellfire Club throws a party.
Cast of Characters:	Sebastian Shaw, Satana Hellstrom, Lara Croft, John Constantine, Rien D'Arqueness, Tessa, Lorna Dane, Mary Seward, Amy Winston, Dick Grayson, Dracula, Nico Minoru

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Sebastian Shaw has posed:
Increasingly across the world the fact that there very well might be an unimaginable cosmic threat headed towards their little sphere in the heavens has begun to spread. Secrets like that just can't be kept for long, not when more then one person knows. It's just not an intrinsic part of human nature afterall.

For some -- for many really -- that kind of news is all that anyone needs to panic. To throw off any sense of self-restraint and let instinct and fear run wild. For others, well, it's just another day.

In the halls of power -- of which there are many within the confines of the Hellfire Club -- those in the know are very much aware of the fact that looming disaster is never very far from creeping into the picture. The number of sheer misses that the world has on a regular basis is practically mind-boggling. That is hardly any reason to lose one's head.

Perhaps it is blind optomism in the assemblage of Earth's greatest heroes, or simply a denial of reality. Maybe it is just in keeping with the Hellfire Club's long standing tradition of thumbing their nose at societal norms, but the master of the Club -- it's Black King -- Sebastian Shaw has used the occasion to throw a party of course.

The doors to the Club have been thrown open, the various clubs within the Club open to members and visitors alike. Gold and red bunting seems to dominate, dangling from the ceiling, encircling the bannisters of the lavish stairs while a variety of jewel encrusted, planet shaped ornaments dangle from above, the multi-faceted decorations collecting and reflecting a dizzying rainbow of light throughout the various rooms.

Servers, most of whom are dressed in green body paint circulate throughout the crowds, drinks and snacks on trays ready to be claimed by any of those present.

And to greet people? At the far end of the entrace hall Sebastian Shaw has had a pair of stony throne-like chairs errected where he sits, his customary 18th Century garb set aside for at least this occasion. Instead he is dressed in some over-stylized space commando getup, right down to the beret perched in jaunty fashion atop his head.

All in black of course.

Satana Hellstrom has posed:
There's always time for a party. There's always time for some revelry. And here tonight Satana Hellstrom is going to indulge herself. Appreciate those that incapacitate themselves. And to make sure to keep track of the onest hat no one cares if something happens to as they shamble off into the night to call for a limo or an uber. Tonight is here for fun, frolicking.. And maybe an after dinner dessert if she's worked up an appetite. Just because she can, not that she wants to. There are rules about doing things on club grounds, so she intends to behave herself for it. When off the club grounds and if she has someone hanging off an arm that's not really important that's too dumb to see her for what she is?
    Then, the gloves are off and she's going to enjoy herrself something deliscious. She arrives over wearing something fancy after having spent a few days pawing through fashion magazines, mind controlling a couple of tailors to personally design her outfit.. Then making a few final adjustments herself. Because magic and shapeshifting were ever so useful that way. So tonight was her party, she would make others cry if she wanted to.

Lara Croft has posed:
Lady Lara Croft is in attendance this evening, making her way from one part of the open club to another, with a drink in hand. Wearing a white dress that gleams beneath the light that is captured within its silken fabric, the British Duchess has her dark hair tied up in a well arranged style, leaving tendrils of brown hair to dance around the sides of her face. A light bit of makeup on her facial features, silver jewelry adorning her neck, ears and wrists, and a pair of tall heels further add a touch of grace to her attire. She's mingling, moving from familiar face to familiar face.

Recently presented as one of the White Rooks within the Hellfire Club, Lady Lara has been rubbing elbows, and making friends. Due to the nature of her life's story, she often gets approached about her latest trips, and the exploits there-in, since many of them make headlines for one reason, or another.

Tonight, she is simply enjoying the atmosphere of the Club, and upholding her role as a member meant to make the place that much more inviting.

John Constantine has posed:
Who says John Constantine can't clean up nice? He's looking a little haggard, a bit like he just came from one party to the next with barely a break to catch two winks and a few drinks. But he's actually wearing something other than his typical attire. He's actually wearing a *tuxedo*, GASP. Of course it's sans tie and tails and he's still wearing that beat up trench coat over top it all, but he tried, right?

If he's going to celebrate the end of the world, he's not doing so in some space costume - because one day he plans to die in *style*.

"How much of last night to you remember, luv?" John murmurs quietly to Rien as the two enter. Does he remember? Or is he just checking to see if she does because he does and he wants to know what she knows? Is it a little of both.

He doesn't really wait for a reply before jumping right to his next topic. "Last time I was here, I got stuck in an elevator with a bloody angel." True story. He's still a little sore about that whole situation - even though it hasn't come around to bite him *yet*.

His tuxedo may be classy, but John is still a scouser under it all. When he spots Shaw up there on his throne, he calls out, "Hey, mate! Lovin' the Space Rambo - good look!"

His attention soon wanders however - any familiar faces?

Rien D'Arqueness has posed:
With John all gussied up in his tuxedo, Rien can't help but pull a little tongue-in-cheek move herself and got dressed as a Bond Girl! Garbed in a silk halter gown, the color is so deep a blue as to be nearly black, only glimmers of color shimmering through with the catch of a light here and there. The halter style leaves her back, shoulders, and arms bare, with the deep decolletage at the front encrusted with tiny gemstones winking in the ight and providing that 'trick of the light'... or was it a wardrobe malfunction? The floor-length skirtbears a high slit up the right leg to show off a stunning pair of gem-encrusted heeled sandals.

...It's the end of the world as we know, and I feel fiiiiiiiiiiiine...

Rien glances up at John with a saucy little half-smile, "I'll admit, there were a few blurry spots.. you know how it goes.. but I remember more than enough." She tilts her head in towards him and whispers something for his ear alone before straightening.

"Last time I was here, I brought Dracula along for a meeting. Mm, its a pity things didn't work out, he was delightful," she lets out a small sigh and smiles up at him. "Just be glad you didn't have to host one. We held Michael for... entirely too long."

Approaching Shaw on Constaintine's arm, Rien offers a slow smile towards Sebastian and dips her head, "Mr. Shaw. Always a pleasure. How are we this evening?"

Tessa has posed:
For one of the first times in the memory of those who frequent the Club, Tessa has not started the evening unobtrusively ever-present just a step or so to the Black King's side. Instead she makes her entrance alone, floating her way down the staircase on almost silent feet while one of the numerous security guards trail behind. Whites and silvers drape across her body with only the thinnest slashes of black and grey embroidery to highlight skin or draw the outline of trees, burnt-out husks empty of leaves and life, all turned to charcoal and ash at her feet and swirling along behind her on a short train. The tiara on her head brings a similar energy, with skeletal tines curling around a small, shattered geode that catches the light and bounces it away. She comes to a stop next to her own throne, face carefully blank as she regards her fellow monarch. "Black King," she says carefully, eyes roaming the crowd as she takes her seat. "Ms. D'Arqueness, Mr. Constantine. Have you brought us another gift, Rien? How thoughtful of you."

Lorna Dane has posed:
It's the end of the world, and Lorna Dane feels just like she did when it wasn't:

Cornered.

The grim reality of Genosha's resurrection over the past few years is that it's only a matter of time before the next apocalypse comes for the island, so the main difference between then and now is having a name for the dread looming in the future. There's no comfort in it exactly, but naming it - defining the precise shape of doom instead of anticipating it from its evidence - is something of a boon. This way, there's something concrete to prepare for; something tangible to fear.

And on nights like tonight, when she elects to let her hair down and shift impending trouble down her priorities in lieu of delights both distracting and profitable, a fixed shape makes compartmentalizing a little bit easier.

Rather than sci-fi, she's elected to honor the traditions of the Club with something more classically formal: a cream-colored shirt held shut by precisely two platinum clasps reaching for dear life to do their duty in the face of overwhelming odds by letting Lorna show 'just enough' securely lifted cleavage for the Club rather than 'too much, at least for the hour' chest; tight, white slacks with green pinstripes accented by pairs of silver chains looping across either hip; leather shoes so darkly purple as to approximate black, lifted on a couple inches of chunky heel; and a long, slicked back braid dangling a ways down her back, wound with criss-crossing emerald ribbons that shimmer not-so-subtly in the right light. A white blazer's hanging over her right shoulder, the collar hooked on her right index and middle finger.

-- a kind of classic. A kind of formal.

It's about playing to one's audience.

"... most powerful people on Earth," she whispers, not for the first time tonight, to the woman at her side, whose waist she keeps her free arm looped around. "Enjoy it - all of it - and don't hesitate to seek out opportunities... but be careful," she warns her purple-clad companion.

Mary Seward has posed:
The Queen of Blood was never one to miss the opportunity to show off. Her pride would never allow it. She's come in her nicest outfit. A fine column gown, cotton jersey and as red as a ruby. It brushed against the floor in a way that almost made it look like she was floating. Were it not for the matching pumps she had underneath making the occassional clack on the ground, with each foot step. She left her hair as short and wild as she liked it. Nothing too fancy for her, just enough.

She struts through, like she owns the place...With how boldly she introduces herself, it's as though she thinks she does too.

"John, John, John. Seems they really are letting anyone in these days, huh?" She couldn't wait to get her dig in. Then, there's the real man of the hour who warrants her attention. "Mary Seward, nice to finally meet you. I'm actually dating an associate of yours." She curtsies for Sebastian, showing her age a bit.

Amy Winston has posed:
As Princess Amethyst of Nilaa stepped through the grand doors of the Hellfire Club, her entrance was nothing short of a spectacle. The gown she wore was a vision of silk-mist elegance, a corset dress with a flared bubble skirt that shimmered under the ambient lighting, its soft lavender hues rippling like mist-silk with every graceful movement. Crystals adorned the bodice, catching the light, and her delicate tiara-crafted with the finest gems from her world-glimmered on her brow, marking her royal status with quiet but undeniable authority. With her heels pushing her to almost six feet in height helps.

The collar of her dress brushed against her bare collarbones, high and regal, yet managing to retain a sensual allure. Each step she took was purposeful, her heels clicking softly against the polished floor, and though her outward appearance exuded confidence, there was a slight tightness to her lips, a barely perceptible crease in her brow as her eyes darted across the opulent room.

Black. There was so much black.

The room itself glittered with adornments of the stone-polished and perfect, inlaid into decor, jewelry, and even the garments of the club's elite. It was a striking choice, given the history the gemstone held for Amy. It seemed impossible to separate opal from the ominous shadow of Lord Opal's influence on Nilaa. Her stomach twisted with unease at the sight of it draped so freely over this powerful room, as if mocking the battles and scars she had earned facing him.

She swallowed, her heart pounding harder in her chest as memories of Opal's corruption and power flashed through her mind, the weight of Gemworld's history suddenly pressing heavy against her.

Here, on Earth, opal had no such meaning-here, it was just a beautiful stone, a luxury for the rich and the decadent. But to her... it was a reminder of the darkness she had fought to overcome. And now has to fight again.

Her lavender hair, loosely curled and swept to one side, framed her face as she glided further into the room, trying to push the discomfort to the back of her mind. The scent of champagne and expensive perfume swirled in the air, the low murmur of voices and laughter surrounding her as she caught sight of the gathering ahead. She straightened her back, pulling herself taller, the Princess of House Amethyst once again.

But her eyes never strayed too far from the opal-laden guests, their jeweled accessories gleaming with unsettling familiarity. She forced herself to take a breath, reminding herself that this was not Gemworld, that the people here had no idea of the connection that gemstone had to her world's most dangerous adversary.

Still, as her fingers brushed the side of her dress, a soft shimmer of protective magic hummed through her fingertips. She was ready, should anything or anyone test her here.

For now, she would smile, she would socialize, she would play the role of royalty. It helps as she recognizes faces she knows. The other being the creme-colored companion as her side as she giggles softly. "I should stick close in case you pop loose." she teases the Queen quietly, holding her hand as they make their way within. "I see friends here. I shall endeavor to be careful, in case you leave to mingle on your own."

John Constantine has posed:
"Just John, or Constantine, that Mister Constantine was a right bastard, he was," is offered up in way of greeting. "...and I'm more like the gift everyone returns the day after Christmas, luv, so keep that receipt." Really, you can take the boy out of Liverpool. What was that, did he just catch a glimpse of green in his peripheral. But first - "Well, they let *you* in, ey luv?" he shoots back at Mary without missing a beat.

Then he turns his attention to that spot of green. John leans over to ask, "Who is that?" with a little gesture in Lorna's direction. It has to be her - green hair isn't all that common outside of the punk scene, after all.

He goes on to explain his interest a little further to his companion for the evening. "She was in Thailand." When he dragged everyone he could muster up in to save a friend from himself and his demons.

"I should go thank her." John Constantine wanting to actually show *gratitude*? Lorna must have truly made an impression - spoiler alert, it wasn't because she saved his ass from being pulverized.

Then he notices Amethyst and both brows shoot up. "Huh, well maybe I should go introduce myself?"

Rien's arm in his, he attempts to steer his Bond Girl for the evening in that direction.

Lara Croft has posed:
Lara caught sight of Constantine out of the corner of her eyes, as she was socializing with other members of the Club, who had brought potential new members to tonight's open event. She was shaking hands, and introducing herself, with smiles for each of them. She did, however, have to glance at John and Rien, since the last time she sppoke to John, he was fooling her in to believing a magical manuscript was actually a fake. She hadn't believed him, of course, not at first anyway; but John Constantine was a tricky fellow when he wanted something, and as such... Lara had lost out on a lot of money for that book. Thankfully,, though, she wasn't hard up for money anyway.

John would get a smirk, and a wave from lara, should he look her way, before she'd make parting words with those she was speaking to, and proceeded on through the room.

Tessa, upon her arrival, would receive a warm smile from Lara, along with a wave as well. "You look wonderful." Lara would tell her once they were within appropriate distance from one another.

Satana Hellstrom has posed:
And with no one paying particular attention over to her - what with all the spectacle going on, Satana Hellstrom smiles ever so slightly to herself. Then her hands go up and over and quickly weave together as she doesn't murmur a few words - this sort of thing is somantic based, not verbal. A quick few twists of her fingers, and then the half demoness goes to rest her hands over on her hips. HEr eyes don't glow..
    The joy of these sorts of large events is that some level of adaptations have to be made to accompany so many people. Like, say.. Any sort of wards in general or protective layers of magic. She's resaonably sure that the Club has some sginificant level of defenses to it - but they'd likely be set at a lower level tonight. So a chance for her to quickly scope them out using a level of scrying. Not that she would ever necessarily use it for anything, of course (fingers crossed) but it never hurt to have an idea.
    The gesticulations were quick as she went to attune herself to innate magical auras - not of people present, but of things laid around whatever sorts of parts of the club that she could gaze upon without going astral.
    Regardless of whether she got anything at all or anything useful, she woul be satisfied and going to settle back to her body, going to snag a goblet of wine off a tray of a waiter.

Rien D'Arqueness has posed:
Rien smiles warmly at Tessa, "Tessa! A delight and a pleasure to see you again. And.. I do believe I have something you might just... ah! Here we go!" Reaching out, she plucks a glass of champagne from a passing server's tray. Waving a hand over the glass, there's a brief rush of magic, and she presents the glass to Tessa with a wink. "May your every glass be so filled."

Then John's pulling her attention with his question, and her eyes dart about until she catches sight of his Mystery Woman. She gives a small nod and murmurs, "Lorna Dane, Queen of Genosha. Lovely woman." She pauses to turn a smile towards Mary, "Miss Seward. How lovely to see you again."

She lifts a hand towards Lara, offering a wave and a smile before she's being steered towards Lorna. Laughing softly, Rien pats at John's hand, "Yes, yes, I'm certain we'll catch up with her. Really. But yes, absolutely you should introduce yourself."

A parting wave and grin is tossed towards Tessa before she disappears into the crowd!

Dick Grayson has posed:
Dressed to the nines and looking like he's ready to drive an Aston Martin through a window wall after a daring escape from a villains secret lair, comes Dick Grayson. Or he's cosplaying as Sterling Archer; codename Duchess. It may be difficult to tell. The tux is sharp and the bow tie is perfectly centered. The watch that he wears at his left wrist is fashionable and expensive. He's arrived alone and the former ward of the Wayne Estate out of Gotham seems to wear a perpetually playful smile that threatens to tug itself broader at one corner of his mouth.

The first few steps that he takes into the Hellfire Club are spent taking in the presentation of it all. At some point he finds a drink in hand and sends a playful wink the way of the server who passes by with it, ripe for the taking.

"It's shaken, not stirred, right?"

The question is asked with a cheesy grin to follow that playful wink, that seems to fly in direct violation of the seriousness of his wardrobe.

Sebastian Shaw has posed:
Certainly it takes all types.

And all types are most definitely on display at the Club on this particular evening. There are plenty of members present of course, as one would expect at such an event, even a goodly number of the more secretive inner courts that make up the true heart of the Club. And while some have dressed for the occasions, others sport more common Club attire, still made up if only in a different fashion.

And yet for all of those in some sort of costume -- even only those dictated by such an event in society -- there might be a half dozen or so who are merely gawking, merely curious onlookers into a world that they only rarely get a glimpse of. While the Club maintains a few public fronts, open to the general masses to take advantage of, it is more rare for much of it to be open to all, members and not alike.

Much, but not all. They still have their secrets of course.

As a few familiar -- and prominent -- faces drift past the throne where he has parked himself in insolent fashion, one leg draped over the arm of that stony chair, a crystal goblet of wine cradled lazily in one hand, Sebastian Shaw dips his head in acknowledgement. "Ms. D'Arqueness, Mr. Constantine. A pleasure to see that you both managed to take time otu of schedules that I am sure are quite busy," he says with a brief smile.

Only when Tessa descends the stairs does he finally rise from his seat, taking a step down to meet her, taking her hand in his own and brushing lips across the back of it, a little smirk playing over the line of his mouth at the mention of Constantine being a gift.

Turning, he greets Mary Seward as well, a fractional bow from the waist greeting her, dark eyes regarding her in assessing fashion. "And you as well, Ms. Seward. We have heard many interesting things about you. Welcome to the Club. I trust that you will enjoy the evening," he says quietly, inscrutably.

His gaze briefly flickers towards Lara as well as she drifts out of one of the side rooms, raising that crystal goblet in her direction in acknowledgement of the newest White Rook.

Mary Seward has posed:
"Oh, I'm sure I will. There's never a dull moment when I-" Just as she's on that sentence, Mary finds herself distracted. She senses something. A powerful presence, and from the corner of her eye, she immediately clocks just what it is. That tricky little hell-spawn up to something yet again. She can merely shake her head, at Satana's direction. She's still obligated to make conversation with the rest. To cut it off now would be a social faux-pas. Something beneath her.

"Ah, Hello again Rien. You're looking fine. Despite your plus one, of course." Didn't take her long to get John back. So insistent on getting the last laugh. Yet, the talk of a certain fellow colorful queen earns her excitement. A reminder of her ongoing alliance with the Brotherhood. How her finger is in so many pies as of late. She takes pride in being so popular.

"Oh, Lorna's here? I haven't seen that girl in a while...We should really go catch up while we're. So, don't wait up on me...or do. I'm not your mom." In that moment, she's off in a flash. A blur, practically. "Oh, Looornaaaa!"

Amy Winston has posed:
With a soft inhale, Amy leaned in closer to Lorna, her lavender hair falling gently over her shoulders as she lowered her voice. "Lorna," she murmured, keeping her tone light but laced with caution, "I think you've caught the attention of someone... a bit tricky." she comments as she makes note of John trying to make his way over to where the pair of them are.

She watches as the others interact with each other and feels her first pang of being out of her element. Commonly, back on Nilaa, she's already a place to sit and hide from the hustle and bustle of the diplomatic elegance and disaster of it all. It's not something she can do here.

So she holds her ground, her free hand brushing over her skirt as someone else calls out for Lorna, and the Princess tilts her head with amusement.

"I think the wrong person warned me, Lorna." she teases softly.

Lorna Dane has posed:
Proximity means it's difficult not to notice the way Amethyst's discomfort mounts in the presence of sumptuous darkness. Before her warning's all the way loosed, Lorna's already clutching her fellow royal closely, firmly, sharing a little of her strength in the hopes of settling the Princess' spirit.

She knows the story of Lord Opal the tyrant, but the full gravity of it is difficult to grasp second-hand; the tension invoked by the mere sight of his color's only familiar at a remove.

Purple's one of her favorite colors, and it was months before she could stomach it after G-Day.

"You look beautiful," she assures, dragging her fingers along the small of the Princess' back until their fingers meet and link. "And I've got you--"

And the Princess has got jokes.

"-- and apparently, you've got me, so we're good," she huffs with an affected groan. "This royal collaboration's already paying such dividends..."

She scans the room and spots a wealth of familiar faces-- including a couple which, at this point, she mostly associates with trying to stop the Juggernaut from being turned into the puppet of his dark patron. Constantine in particular gets a double brow arch across the party; he looks so different when they aren't both covered in demon blood. Ditto Lara, seen for the first time without the complication of a desperate sprint to spirit dangerous artifacts to safety.

Mary - another friend largely associated with gore, because these are the relationships one builds as one gets older, apparently - gets a broad smile and nod of acknowledgement when spotted, then Lorna's attention turns towards the Black King and de facto guest of honor. "Sebastian Shaw," she whispers in Amethyst's ear with a squeeze of her hand. "He's..."

Her tongue touches the edge of her teeth for a beat.

"... very important," is what she goes with, before shifting her attention towards Tessa. "Tessa, his companion; be careful about drawing too many assumptions from that label..."

Fortuitously, Lorna's led the Princess at her side to the growing collection of titles around the Black King, slipping in at the Laughing Magician's side to offer Shaw a brisk, respectful curtsey.

"You throw a wonderful party as always, Mr. Shaw," she offers upon straightening. "And you--..." she turns towards the Silk Cut-loving sorcerer.

"... thank you," she simply states, soft and resolute. "I dunno who you are, but-- I mean, it's good to see you again. Alive; un-demon-murdered."

Satana Hellstrom has posed:
And then the half-succubus' head would swivel as Dick Grayson would make his entrance and she would smile. Vacuous, empty headed playboy. Annoying, just like his adoptive father. No one would mind. Satana would go to sashay along through the room towards Nightwing, taking a moment to theatrically pull out a msall mirror and a fresh set of lipstick and pucker up while advancing towards him and giving a bright smile.
    "Why hello there, MIster Greyson." She would purr. "Your accoutrement is divine. However, you're missing one part of the ensemble. A pretty woman hanging off your arm." Her moving to then to simply try and press against his side, one arm going to try and lift over to rest around his shoulders. "Get me a drink and let's dance, darling."
    A light flicker o fher green eyes accompanying it they would glow ever so slightly before fading as she would go to make sure to firmly squeeze his hand in her's. Smiling over.
    "Because you do need a bad girl with you tonight. And I'm the one your mother warned you about."

John Constantine has posed:
Bollocks.

At the use of the word 'Queen', John almost doesn't go through with it. That title always seems to get him in some sort of trouble - one bit of trouble holding such title is currently in this room. Of course the addition of 'of Blood' or 'of Vampires attached might have more to do with the trouble than the 'Queen' bit.

He does catch Lara's smirk and wave, to which he replies with a wink and that devilish grin of his - the one that makes him seem as if he knows something important and no one else is privy.

Once he reaches the girls in cream and purple, his attention falls on the latter first. "Amy," at least he left the lil' off? "Why am I not surprised to find you here, luv?" Another girl with another royal title - it tracks, right?

Finally his attention shifts solely to his intended target. He's so zeroed in that Mary is currently nothing more than a gnat buzzing in his ears. "Miss Dane is it?" he asks of Lorna. "Name's John Constantine, luv. I just wanted to thank..." Well then, that's a turn of events. "No, luv, it's me that should do the thankin', ey? You spoke up for my mate with balls bigger than I had. Really," he catches his bottom lip between his teeth and shakes his head just a little bit before, "Sorry, that wasn't the way - you were brave, luv. And I truly believe that your words helped my mate tell that wanker to sod off. Cain's a better man than most give him credit and you gave him credit and it meant something. You ever need a hand with anything in my mystical wheelhouse, just look me up. I owe you one."

Will miracles never cease? A tux, gratitude and an offered favor while *admitting* he owed someone else one?

"Right then," before he makes more of a fool of himself. "I'll let you get too it, ey? Quite the fan club you have. Even if some of them can't hold a candle despite the matching title." That would be for you Mary!"

Lara Croft has posed:
With Shaw motioning in her direction, Lady Croft raised her glass up in response to him. When it lowered, she had a reserved smile on her visage. "You're looking quite space worthy, Sebastian." She said, with a clear taste of affection on her London accented English. "Perhaps you will be our savior, when the stars come looking to dine?" She asked him, playing up a bit of coy teasing, before she raised her drink up for another sip.

The wave from Rien, got a smile sent her way from the White Rook, along with a light nod. "Watch your pocket book around that one." She said, being ever playful, with regard to John-- as she indicated him with a glance. A grin touched her smoky red hued lips then, as she tried to convey to Rien, that she was simply being silly in the moment, as well as hinting at their past.

Lara noted Satana, and through that same line of sight, she saw Dick. She wasn't familiar with him, but he certainly looked nice in his chosen attire. She'd send them both a smile, as she took a moment to gret another familiar couple that were moving through the crowds of mingling guests.

Dick Grayson has posed:
Suddenly there's someone in his vicinity and giving him the eyes. Dick's smile brightens a touch as his feet shift to move him aside, but Satana Hellstrom's comments seem to pull him up short. His head tilts ever so slightly in the way that one may expect of an overly curious golden retriever puppy. The smile persists however and a response is ready, as though it was long ago chambered and ready to fire, "Please, Miss Pretty Woman, I'm sure you're perfectly capable of standing under your own power. There's hardly any need to hang off anyone's arm. You're better than that, I just know it!"

Though he doesn't, of course, miss the opportunity to touch upon the subject of his mother and her ample warnings, "You are right though. My mother did instill that lesson in me. Always be careful of strangers and such. *Especially* if they own a van. Do you own a van? Please... please! Tell me it has a wicked awesome techno-wizard on the side of it with a grizzly bear howling at a McDonalds logo..."

Dick stares at Satana now. Back straight, chin slightly inclined. He seems eager to hear about her van.

Tessa has posed:
There's no movement as Tessa's necklace heats up, but she notes it, and her eyes continue to roam over the crowds of people, all being recorded for posterity. Her lips curve up at Sebastian just slightly, knowing that any testing or attempted breach of their own wards will be felt by him as well. She nods at Rien and accepts the glass with a nod. "Lovely as ever." Ms. Seward gets a simple once-over. Tessa is aware of who the woman is, but she seems intent on flattering the king before she gets distracted. About the same time as Tessa's necklace heats up. Curious.

She squeezes Sebastian's fingers briefly before letting go, then nods at Lara and Lorna. "Queen Lorna, so nice to see you had the time to attend tonight. Who is your companion? I do not believe we have had the pleasure of being introduced."

Amy Winston has posed:
Amethyst let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding, grateful for Lorna's firm grip at her waist. The familiar touch grounded her amidst the sea of unsettling dark hues and the subtle air of tension she felt within the walls of the Hellfire Club. The opulence and shadow reminded her all too much of Nilaa, of Lord Opal's reign and the relentless grip he held over her land. Yet here, in a place so foreign, she was finding solace in Lorna's presence, and she allowed herself a moment to relax.

"You look beautiful too," Amy murmured back, leaning into Lorna's touch, feeling the soft drag of fingers along her back until their hands linked. A soft smile tugged at her lips despite her lingering unease. "And yeah, we're quite the pair tonight, aren't we? Royalty teaming up at an event like this? No one stands a chance."

Lorna's quiet rundown of the who's-who only heightened Amy's awareness of the room's power dynamics. Sebastian Shaw; another name with weight. And Tessa, equally enigmatic. But it was the sight of Constantine that prompted her to move closer. "It's good to see you again, John. I didn't expect to be here tonight, but I simply could not pass on Lorna's invitation to be her date." she points out. "You put a Queen and a Princess together, and well, we at least know the etiquette for getting into trouble?" she offers with a smile.

She offered a likewise polite curtsey to Sebastian as they greet him. "Princess Amythest." she offers in way of greetings as she rises up. "I am... not from around here." And that is what she is going to offer for now. Hopefully she'll get some help on that eventually.

Satana Hellstrom has posed:
Satana Hellstrom would pucker up and smile, "Well, if you're that type.." She would muse over while tugging him along with her hand in his, trying to guide him around. "THen let's hear more th etype of things that mommy always told you to be scared of. I'm sure it's quite fun to remember them. Besides, we're not going to have a lot more time after all. Celebrate the good memories. And the van.. Oooh, I haven't had one of those in a long while. It makes me wistful. Just having one, driving around cross country, listening to mixtapes, no idea where you were going but just where the mood took you." Paying attention to the flirting throughout the room, those watching, and the banter..

Plucking two goblets of wine, and then passing one over to Dick. "And mine never had that paint job. Always wanted to get one really snazzy. But, you're a really rich boy, Mister Grayson. How about we make that our goal before the end of the world hits? Get a real snazzy van, paint it up, drive along.. And just see the world."

Dick Grayson has posed:
"What she told me to be afraid of? Is," Dick's mirthful blue eyes seem to rove and roam for a moment, taking in the interior of the Hellfire Club. Not just the people, but the establishment itself. It's only a moment before his attention returns to Satana and he answers his own lead-up with a continuation of the question that threatens to part his lips, "is this like a kink thing? I know where I'm at, so I feel it warrants asking. Hey! Not trying to shame or anything!" He says with a hand held up and palm outward, as though to forestall some mild or greater amount of offense.

The hold's soon filled by a goblet of wine. Now Dick Grayson's double-fisting a martini glass in one hand and a goblet of wine in the other. He seems to grip them tightly too, because those hands are apparently spoken for. Probably by Jesus. Maybe someone else.

"Drive along, see the world, end up in Akron, Ohio," Dick continues on with Satana's whimsy, his own words trailing off into a soft, dreamy sigh. "It sounds like a dream come true, right? Ever had Buckeyes? To die for," the scion of Grayson comments with a small, playful smile.

Rien D'Arqueness has posed:
Smiling towards Amy and Lorna as she's pulled along for the ride, Rien watches John humble his way through a statement (for once), one brow lifting at him. Not in surprise, necessarily, but certainly curious. Still, she looks to Lorna and dips a respectful nod, "Miss Dane. I'm not certain we've ever really been introduced, but it's a pleasure nonetheless. Rien D'Arqueness." She interjects briefly but otherwise lets John do the talking.

Once he winds up, she glances at him and chuckles, "That must have been difficult. Not a single curseword, no grumpiness, no sass. Not even a witty remark. I'm impressed. Now, lets get you something horribly expensive and deliciously high ABV."

Glancing towards Amy, she offers a smile, "Relax a little, you're certainly not the only one to come from 'another place'. Enjoy a drink, mingle a bit, let someone cute ask you to dance. Have fun!" So sayeth the immortal! She may also be biased.

Lorna Dane has posed:
Oh, Looornaaaa--
I think the wrong person warned me--

The green Queen's shirt billows a little after Mary's fleet-footed arrival, leaving her wide-eyed and leaning, slightly, from the woman suddenly in her presence.

"... hi, Mary!"

Smiling, too, now that this is less of an ambush and more of-- well, STILL an ambush, but the kind that leads to socializing with a sharp-toothed predator rather than fending one off. Among so many other things, moments like these are exactly what the Xavier Curriculum was designed for.

"Mary's a vampire..." she begins explaining before catching her tooth to her bottom lip momentarily.

"... Queen," she continues, "who I happen to do a a little business with, here and there..."

Letting go of Amy for the moment, she reaches for Mary's hand and squeezes, firmly, while the Magician and the Princess take spell to catch up. "Hope you're staying outta serious trouble," she softly offers the bloody Queen.

Miss Dane is it...?

Turning back to John, she flashes a smile that somehow grows wider and more muted by the moment as he showers praise on her. "I was gonna keep my mouth shut before you said something," she slips in with a slight headshake, "because I had-- I mean, I don't know shit about magic-- I figured it was one of those..." Scrunching her features a bit, she waves off her uncertain recollection and just murmurs, "... you're a hell of a friend to go to that much trouble, so-- I'll take that favor, but make sure you keep me in your contacts, in turn."

She lets John retreat, but not before giving his shoulder a quick, tight squeeze. As her hand slips from him, she pivots towards the Herald-turned-Queen, smiling into the greeting. "There's nowhere else I'd rather be tonight," she tells Tessa, reaching to take her hand with every intention of drawing it up for a polite kiss, "than reveling in the face of the great unknown." Just as she sets her lips to say it, Amethyst supplies her own introduction, prompting a soft chuckle from the magnetic Queen.

"One of our recent fundraisers was blessed by the Princess' presence, and-- well. How could I not show her a taste of how we celebrate-- here."

Her eyes skate briefly towards Amethyst.

"In New York," she clarifies.

Satana Hellstrom has posed:
Satana Hellstrom would just look playfully around over. "Don't kinkshame. It's rude." She would go to keep up with the chatter. "I mean, might not get another chance to go at it, so just do whatever you have on your bucket list." Before the planet kicks it. They're being a bit too obvious now for her to try and up whatever act she tried on him.
    "Enjoy dear. They're on the house." She would give a wink over at the bar. Hopefully the boy already had a nice buzz going.. Which she would be adding to.

"Can't say I have. Have had plenty of chestnuts. Roasting over open fires." She would grin bigger and bigger at that particular turn of phrase.

Sebastian Shaw has posed:
Amusement briefly touches Sebastian's features once more at Lara quip and he raises a hand to his forehead in an insolent sort of salute. "What can I say? I certainly stand ready to do my part," he murmurs in reply.

Alas, Galactus is not a bug and at the end of the day, simply stomping on him is probably not going to prove to be the answer. Still, the sentiment is in the right sort of place to be sure.

The green haired woman and her companion get a nod of the Black King's head -- one more member of the Inner Courts accounted for. "Your Highness. So glad that you and your companion were able to join us this particular evening. It is a pleasure to have you in our midst once more," he says lowly.

That brief squeeze of Tessa's hand is returned, then Shaw turns once more to his chosen perch for the evening, sinking back into that oversized chair as he plays lord of the manor, taking a sip from that drink in hand and surveying all those in attendance. "Please, enjoy yourselves. Indulge yourselves. For you never know what tomorrow might bring."

And one never knows what interesting tidbits might drop in amongst all those painted servers that circulate throughout the room, distributing drinks and collecting little morsels of information in turn.

John Constantine has posed:
Bollocks!

Can't a man just have a good time? Or maybe this is just payback for the good time he was allowed to have last night. John spots Satana and her new potential conquest from across the room. Whatever else is happening around him, it just took a back seat to what's happening over there. "First one I've met actually worthy of the title, luv," is John's reply to Lorna. Everyone else just gets a 'one moment' finger along with, "Just spotted an old mate, need to get a chinwag in before he leaves. Just take a moment."

Along the way to rescue a clueless Dick Grayson, John snags a drink off a tray, downs it, sets down the empty, snags another and downs it - all before the waitress had a chance to say 'boo'.

Next, he pulls up the collar of that battered trench coat and lights a Silk Cut from the pack in his pocket.

John's not one to make a big fuss or a big scene, but he's also not one to beat around the bush. He walks straight up to Dick from behind, claps him on the shoulder, leans in and says, "Run mate, that one will eat your soul. Now unfortunately that is not a bloody euphemism. She will. eat. your. soul. and leave behind a husk to be found."

He makes that same little gesture, biting his lip and a slight shake of his head, but this time it's *different* and a growl accompanies it and there might be just a hint of fire dancing behind the blue in his eyes - literal fire. "Tanny, we need to talk." Now.

Mary Seward has posed:
?I am indeed& Mary takes the grand opportunity to toot her own horn. ?I?m a Brotherhood of Mutants associate, if you will. Lorna and I have had a hell of a time dealing with mortal bigots together. Something of a dynamic royal duo.?Her arm goes on Lorna?s shoulder.

?Sorry it?s been so long, sweetie. I?ve just been so busy with this end of the world stuff, not to mention other things&I?ve been getting harassed by religious vampire hunters and that was utterly annoying not to clean up. Kinda like those Purifier guys we&cleaned up.? Her arm slips away to give Lorna a pat on the back. ?Though, sounds like you?ve been busy too. Is there anyone that John Constantine doesn?t end up roping into his messy, messy life??

Dick Grayson has posed:
A hand lifts and waves one of the two cups, likely trying to bid some farewell toward Satana. "They're on the house? Sweet," he practically exclaims at the prospect of saving some of his trust fund dollars on drinks tonight. Especially with someone openly giving him permission to indulge and enjoy without reservation. Though as Satana begins to drift away and soon enough John Constantine's arriving to offer some insights, Dick's smile turns into a broad grin as he looks to John, then toward the departing figure of Satana, and finally back to John as the Grayson comments, "Sure, sure, but it was at least fun to joke around with her, you know? I wasn't really going to to Akron with her, I promise". Dick seems rather resolute in that assertion.

"Though if she was going to spring for giving me a van with an awesome paint job? Now we're talking, maybe," Dick explains to John. He's probably joking again. One could assume. Or at least hope.

Then Dick offers a nod toward John and a slight lift of his chin is offered before he holds the goblet of wine out to John. That Satana had given to him. "She gave me that. You want it? Might make you feel a little fuzzy in your toes, maybe worse, but it'll probably be a fun right. Right?"

Amy Winston has posed:
As Amethyst took in the scene around her, she felt a flicker of relief at the familiarity of Lorna's interactions. The chaotic swirl of the Hellfire Club and its dangerous allure seemed to recede a bit as she watched her companion engage with their guests.

Lorna's effortless charm with Mary drew a genuine smile from Amy, though she couldn't quite suppress a laugh at the sight of her friend being accosted by a vampire queen. The situation, though still a bit overwhelming, was far from the dire scenarios that plagued her thoughts earlier.

Amy watched as Lorna introduced Mary, the regal vampire queen who seemed to hold her own among the elite. The casual, friendly manner in which Lorna interacted with Mary was reassuring, and it eased some of Amy's apprehension. She admired Lorna's grace under pressure and her ability to shift from a tense moment to light-hearted camaraderie with such ease.

When Lorna turned to John, Amethyst noted her friend's quick wit and humor. Lorna's ability to handle Constantine's praise and the subtleties of the magical world with a blend of candor and professionalism was impressive. Amy appreciated Lorna's effort to keep the mood light while navigating the complexities of their surroundings.

As Tessa approached, Amethyst's focus shifted. The Queen's magnetic presence was captivating, and the genuine warmth in her greeting made Amy feel more at ease. She nodded at the acknowledgement from Lorna as a hand reached up to play with a lavender lock.

"There's no place I'd rather be tonight either," Amy responded with a smile that matched the warmth of her tone. "I'm quite looking forward to experiencing your unique celebration here in New York."

Her gaze returned to Lorna, who had offered a brief explanation about their recent fundraiser and their current revelry. The mention of New York was a reminder of how far she'd come - and not to mention Nilaa until she knows someone better, for now allowing herself to enjoy the moment, bolstered by the support of her friends and the promise of an evening filled with new experiences.

Lara Croft has posed:
When Lara exchanged her drinking glass with a fresh one from a passing server done up in green body paint, the Duchess turned her eyes toward the Queen of Genosha, and the figure of the woman in red. Mary got a knowing smile from Lara, along with a lifting of her right hand to offer a finger waggling wave.

"Nice to see you again." She said, softly of course, whether or not the words would reach past the ambience noise of the gathered soiree or not, lips could be read, right?

"I hope that you're ddoing better than the last time we saw one another," she added as she stepped closer, brushing past to find a place to stand out of the way of the flow of foot traffic. "I hope that dagger I recovered from you worked well too."

It didn't, it was a fake.

Rien D'Arqueness has posed:
Following the line of John's quick exodus, Rien cants her head, then chuckles softly. Shaking her head, she makes her way towards the now-trio at a much more sedate pace than John. There's rules in the HFC, at least nominally. He's safe... for the moment. Within the club. Depending on what he agrees to. Totally MOSTLY safe! Ish.

While John is trying to drag Satana away to 'talk, Rien smiles up at Dick and chuckles, "Please don't mind John. What few manners he can scrape together went to the royalty in the room. Rien D'Arqueness. And yes, I assure the name IS real. My mother got the jump on all the 'new age' naming shenanigans." She offers a hand towards him and cants her head, "And if I'm not mistaken.. you're Dick Grayson. One of the Wayne boys, oui?"

She'll flick a glance towards John, just to make sure he isn't doing anything crazy.. like trying to banish Satana. But otherwise, the smile remains in place and she attempts to 'distract' Dick from whatever John is doing just now.

Mary Seward has posed:
Mary holds her gaze on Rien and the Grayson boy. Holds it for a strangely long time. She?s tuning everything out. She was all smiles up to this point and now she couldn?t look any more all business. She takes a solitary step closer to the pair. ?&Hey.? Her eyes seem to flicker as she narrows them. ?&Do I know you from somewhere??

John Constantine has posed:
Babysitting, how does John always get stuck with the job.

He lifts the glass Dick offered and just does a little taste test with his tongue. He's not a fool, most of the time, so he's already certain it isn't *just* wine. The sound he aims in Rien's direction before he heads off after Satana is one of nothing but sheer frustration.

Banish her? The thought *did* cross his mind, but he's not there yet. Once he catches up - he snags Satana by the elbow and 'leads' her to the door. His voice is pitched low enough to be drown out in the hustle and bustle to all but her, "Really? Planning to snack on a bloody *bat*? We're leaving and you are *not* coming back, ey luv?"

He turns back to try and catch Rien's attention with a wave - then he points to Satana and the door with an apologetic, but still frustrated look. Then he gestures between Rien and Dick - you got him?

Someone is in *trouble* and he has plenty of rooms in the House of Mystery to be used as a 'time-out'.

Dracula has posed:
While it is uncommon for members to actually dwell onsite at the Club, it is not precisely unheard of. At least not when short term arrangement are required for any number of reasons.

As it so happens, one of those rarities just happens to be on site this particularly evening. Eschewing the elevator, Vlad Tepes Drakul instead glides down one of those curving stairways that leads down from the upper floors.

Someone doesn't appear to be in the proper spirit of the evening however as nary a trace of space theme can be spotted anywhere on his person, though at the very least under other circumstances he might at least blend in with the more archaic sort of style that seems to be favored by their host and much of the inner membership of the Club. At least while present in these premises at the very least.

Glancing at the rather showy decorations, all glitz and glamour that seem to sparkle everywhere in the main hall, Vlad merely arches an eyebrow and continues to all but glide down those stairs, cane in hand, tapping as he takes each step. The odd nod is offered to the few familiar faces that have become known to him during his time in residence here as he nears the main floor.

Rien D'Arqueness has posed:
Plucking up the glass from John's hand, Rien downs the rest of the drink in one fell swallow. Licking her lips lightly, she drops the glass onto a passing tray and cants her head to one side, "Mmmm... sadly, not enough drug to even get a momentary buzz. Pity." Looking back to Dick, she lifts a shrug, "It isn't a party until someone attempts to spike the drinks."

With Mary incoming, Rien lets out a silent sigh and looks back to John, narrowing her eyes at him as he escapes to chase the hot demoness and leaves her at the mercy of the social event. She mouths at him, 'YOU OWE ME ONE' then flaps a hand for him to go after Satana.

Turning back, she smiles at Dick just as Mary steps in, "Ah, Mary. Delighted, I'm certain." The arrival of her ex (one of them anyways), has her sighing. Pinching the bridge of her nose and muttering, "And people wonder why I don't attend parties anymore..."

Tessa has posed:
Lorna gets the same hint of a smile that Sebastian had, and the princess with her receives the same. "Princess. I do hope you enjoy your evening with us, and that you will grant us the pleasure of your company again in the future. Lunch, perhaps, or a performance by Ms. Seraphine if you are a lover of beautiful music."

Her eyes catch on the small commotion, and she stands quietly. "If you'll excuse me, I need to handle a bit of business."

She makes her way over to Rien, wrapping her fingers around the woman's forearm with a light squeeze. "Rien, dear. Was there a bit of trouble over here? I did notice Mr. Constantine escorting someone away. Who is she?" Her eyes catch the other woman's, perfectly placid and calm. "And thank you for the gift, dear. I've had them cleaned and sent up to my jewelry box."

Dick Grayson has posed:
"Manners?" Dick seems to ask of Rien's summary of John. The smile persists however and he doesn't seem at all perturbed by the manners of the other man. Real or imagined. "I thought he was pretty cool to be perfectly honest. He throws off that gruff-voiced detective vibe and I dig it. I'll have to use that sometime when I'm on-duty," he says with a suddenly gravelly growl of a voice, "Detective Dick Grayson, GCPD," as though he's playfully trying on his own gruff detective voice.

"What's your name?" Dick asks of Rien. Though the timely arrival of Mary Seward results in the man's blue eyes lazily turning her way and his head cants aside. He seems to size her up. Running through some mental catalogue of people over the years. Finally he shrugs and offers an apologetic shake of his head before he offers an equally apologetic answer, "I'm sorry, ma'am," he begins before elaborating further, "do you know many Dicks? I'm not sure if I'm the Dick that you're remembering or some other Dick."

He spares a glance back toward Rien, along with a subtle mouthing of an apology of his own. Then his attention turns back to regard Mary Seward.

Nico Minoru has posed:
The halls of the Hellfire Club are not entirely unfamiliar to one Nico Minoru. For one seeking greater knowledge about the powers that she can wield thanks to the Staff of One there have been occasional benefits to make acquaintances in these halls.

Not to mention the occasional bout of employment. Not exactly the most glamourous sort of work, but a girl has to eat.

Still, on this evening it is neither knowledge nor a paycheck that brings her drifting in through these doors, but instead a certain amount of curiousity. She isn't a stranger to some of the larger excesses of the Club, though even to her the idea of celebrating the potential end of the world seems less edgy and more... wrong.

But she can make a lot of allowances when the potential for free drinks are on the table and she plucks one of the same from a passing serve, practially downing in whole in one long gulp.

Lorna Dane has posed:
"May there be a next time," Lorna replies to Shaw, nodding deeply. "... and, perhaps, an opportunity to discuss weightier matters, once your hosting duties have settled. I'm sure that there's much to be gained from friendship between our--"

A sideways look.

A pearly, beaming grin.

"-- three Houses, whatever form it might take," she finishes, lilting brightly. "We may be about to die, but business continues 'til the bitter end, right?"

Right about then--

... we cleaned up...

"Mary bit one of their heads right off," whispers in the Princess' ear, too loud for secrecy as she pounces on a segue, eyes trained on the Queen of Blood. Pact or no, there is a part of her that just-- feels safer, having her eyes squarely on Mary when the vampire noble's in her vicinity. "We all lead messy lives--" she notes, having tracked Mary to her side at a rate that leaves her a little dazed, "-- but John came through for a mutual friend, so it worked out, this time. Lotta dead cultists; you'd have loved it."

Once Mary's attention seems to wander, Lorna shifts hers over to check on Amethyst, smiling. What was meant to be a brief once-over lingers a little while she wraps her arm around the Princess' and edges close enough to bump hips with her, a silent token of admiration for the purple-haired outsider standing firm among strangers, awash in unfamiliar dynamics, surrounded by black trappings...

"You're in good hands: everyone comes to New York to party at some point or another," she murmurs, mirroring the Princess' warmth.

And then there's a Duchess approaching, pulling the Genoshan monarch right back to the peculiar blend of business and pleasure that these events tend to bring on in waves, fluctuating between poles from moment to moment. "You're a busy woman," she brightly remarks, tipping her head towards Lara. "Thank you for your part in keeping the Juggernaut situation under control."

Rien D'Arqueness has posed:
"Oh, don't get me wrong. They don't come much cooler than John Constantine... but he's still an ass. By all means, emulate the voice. Trust me, you're far too nice to emulate the man," Rien turns a warm smile towards Dick before chuckling at the voice. "Very nice, now just insert a touch of the Bowery in there for the accent and you're golden." Because English accents are hot. They just are. Proven scientific fact.

While Dick greets Mary, Rien turns towards Tessa with a smile, "Nothing we couldn't handle. The woman was the Hellstrom sister... Satana? Santana? Something to that effect. In either case, she attempted to taint Detective Grayson's drink, but he was far too canny to drink it and I've disposed of the toxin already. John is going to make sure that Miss Hellstrom learns her lesson." There's a small chuckle before she adds, "Not, of course, that we are attempting to get in the way of any sanctions or actions the Club may wish to take."

Turning back towards Dick, she smiles. "Rien. Rien D'Arqueness. That is my name." It's offered up in those soft French tones, sounding as much like an invitation as an introduction. The French really knew what they were doing when they crafted their language!

Amy Winston has posed:
Amethyst smiled, the warmth of Lorna's arm wrapped around hers grounding her amidst the unfamiliarity of the Hellfire Club. She leaned into the closeness, finding comfort in the gentle bump of hips and the reassuring presence of someone she trusted. Lorna had this effortless way of making her feel seen and protected, even when surrounded by people and energies that left her unsettled.

Lorna's whispered quip about Mary's brutal efficiency and the shared messy lives drew a soft laugh from Amy. It was odd, hearing such tales spoken of so casually, but in this strange world, perhaps that was the norm. Still, the idea of dead cultists and severed heads wasn't exactly what she was used to. "Sounds like I missed quite the party," she whispered back, her tone light but tinged with humor. There was a sincerity behind it, though. If she had to face dark forces, she was grateful to have people like Lorna-resilient, resourceful, and always one step ahead-at her side.

But as Lorna's attention shifted, as it always did in these kinds of gatherings, Amethyst suddenly felt the absence of her friend's presence more keenly. The warmth of their connection lingered like a fading spark, and without Lorna to anchor her, she felt a bit lost in the sea of faces, laughter, and dark whispers. She caught herself glancing around, unsure of where to go next, trying to read the room as best as she could.

Amethyst wasn't unaccustomed to being in spaces of power, but the tone here was different-darker, heavier. The black trappings, the opulence, and the sharp edges of conversation left her feeling like an outsider more than ever. The weight of Opal's influence still lingered in her mind, despite the charm of the evening.

She pulled herself together, reminding herself that she was here for a reason, that her presence mattered. But as she stood there, scanning the room for her next move, she couldn't help but wish Lorna would return to her side, if only to give her that small push she needed to navigate this glittering labyrinth of shadow and intrigue. She plucked at the front of her dress a couple of times and then made her way over to the refreshment table to get a flute of champagne, a smile offered to Nico. "Hello." she greeted.

Mary Seward has posed:
"...Oh, no. Trust me. I'm pretty sure we've met." She steps even closer. She was in no mood to humor Rien, despite seeming eager too earlier. She knows an attempt at distraction when she sees it. She seems ready to push past the mutant-magi entirely. Her nails look all the more sharp with how she opens her hand. "...Where did you say you were from?"

Holding that thought, she spares a quick glance over to Dracula. Another presence she distinctly recognize. Though more powerful. Not enough to settle her down, unfortunately, as her glare locks on Grayson the exact moment it gets back on track.

Dracula has posed:
There is a... feel to it. Power. An energy that can't help but suffuse a room, filling it, drifting through it like scents wafting on the breeze.

At the best of time the Hellfire Club practically reeks of the stuff, but perhaps moreso tonight of all nights.

Pausing on the bottom step of that curving stairwell, Vlad lets his gaze slide over the crowd, that well trained eye already mentally sorting out the wolves from the sheep, the predators from the prey and while there are certainly no shortage of familiar figures scattered about, powerful figures, his gaze instead lights on one dark haired woman in particular, something akin to amusement briefly flickering across his features.

Finally abandonning his perch on those stairs, Dracula begins to walk through the room, his gaze briefly drawn towards Mary and the so very familiar energy that is unmistakable to one of their kind and while eyes narrow ever so slightly, he doesn't cease his progress through the crowds, only stopping once he is in front of Nico.

"I can certainly say that I did not expect to run across you again. And certainly not so soon," he pronounces in that clipped, Eastern European accent of his, still clinging to his words even after all these centuries.

Dick Grayson has posed:
Dick casts a sideward smile toward Rien, though the insistence out of Mary results in Dick's attention diverting back toward her. As she draws closer, Dick's shoulders shift slightly and his feet angle. He watches Mary while an eyebrow dances a touch higher and his head tilts aside, sending his expertly coiffed hair toppling ever so slightly aside. "Sadly, I think you're mistaken. Though I'm sure you're a perfectly enjoyable person to have a mutual history with," he says with a suddenly cheerful smile and his blue eyes seem to alight.

He then glances toward Rien and then around himself as he seems to seek out John again, asking aloud, "Where'd he make off to with that drink? I think I found someone that needs it real bad," he says with a look that's sent back to Mary as the final words leave his mouth.

Then Dick turns his attention from Mary and instead back to Rien, continuing on with the previous discussion without missing much of a beat, "It's good to meet you though, Rien. Remember me. That way you don't mistake me for another Dick sometime, okay?" He says with a big ol' smile.

Tessa has posed:
"My apologies for the unpleasantness, Detective Grayson," Tessa murmurs politely. "No, Rien. Taking steps to handle the issue discreetly is, of course, well appreciated. Let your Mr. Constantine know that he is in our favor for his efforts, yes? I'll ensure that Sebastian is aware as well, and if you know of something suitable as a token of appreciation, I'll see that he is rewarded." She squeezes the other woman's arm again, gracing her with a nod and smile, eyes actually warm instead of their standard flatness. "You as well, of course, and I believe the dear Detective is already on our rolls. Something for your troubles, thwarted as she was in whatever nefarious pursuit she endeavored to take, Mr. Greyson. Do let us know."

Nico Minoru has posed:
One drink down, though several more to go if she plays her cards right. Though it is probably best to watch her alcohol consumption at least a little in this particular crowd. Again, she has that passing familiarity with this Club and those that frequent it's halls.

But two, two should be safe enough and so Nico plucks another glass from a passing tray, depositing her now empty one there in it's place instead before swivveling back to drift through the room. It doesn't take her long to spot some of the high and mighty types, and she shies away from them, but as she turns on her heel intending to dart into one of the side rooms, she instead finds her potential escape route cut off by the towering figure before her.

That drink nearly slooshes out over her hand and her eyes widen in surprise, more so when she recognizes the familiar features of Dracula. "You," she says lowly, involuntarily taking a step back before she settles herself. "I was wondering where you disappeared to after last time."

Lorna Dane has posed:
Catching up with Lara - however briefly - flows into a conversation with another VIP who is, paradoxically, not important enough to be named or fleshed out explicitly in the space of those pose.

(The topic, for the record? Ancient mutant history and hunting for archaeological evidence thereof.)

Once she's finally allowed a moment of oxygen, she reaches to her left-- glances there-- then briefly lifts her eyebrows and murmurs, "-- shit--" at the absence. After scanning the room for a beat, she takes a moment - takes a breath - and reminds herself that despite the gulf in Earthly experience...

... Amethyst is a big Princess who probably will not, in fact, wilt if removed from her presence.

This internal reminder is not incompatible with twitching her first two fingers fractionally, summoning a subtle, buzzing warmth radiating through Amy's tiara, gently seeping into her scalp, and wordlessly reminding:

I'm right here; promise.

... it just makes the decision to join Tessa, Dick, Mary, and Rien instead of bee-lining after Amethyst a bit easier to settle on.

"I don't think we had a chance to be formally introduced," she interjects into what seems to be a--

-- well, something. SOME kind of happening, some kind of tension--

-- whatever it is, Lorna gamely makes herself a part of it, complete with a handshake offered to Rien.

"Lorna Dane, of Genosha," she offers, eschewing her full, mutant name-bearing title for the sake of casual introductions.

Rien D'Arqueness has posed:
Ignoring Mary completely, Rien just rolls her eyes at the theatrics and returns the sidelong smile towards Dick. She lifts a brow at how he moves, a faint smile hovering around her lips. Curiouser and curiouser! She flicks a glance to Mary and finally sighs, "Leave it off, Seward. No attacking in the Hellfire Club. Especially not with the Black King and White Queen present. Respect the Court. Do your hunting on your own time."

Turning that smile in all its fullness and warmth back on, she looks to Tessa and gives a nod, "I can think of one thing. A 'Get Out of Jail Free' card. For John. He does have a bad tendency to let his purpose override his manners... and sense. He gets one 'freebie'. Something that would normally see him ousted. Within reason, of course." A glance is dipped back to Mary and Dick, then over to Tessa, "And you might wish to remind Miss Seward that there are certain expectations of behavior within the Club."

Looking to Dick, she chuckles, "Trust me, Mr. Grayson... I never forget a Dick." Lorna's arrival has her smiling once more, taking the hand offered, "I know who you are, Miss Dane. I was with John when he came to speak with you. Rien D'Arqueness. This is Tessa Fox, Detective Dick Grayson, and Mary Seward you've already met."

Sebastian Shaw has posed:
"I suspect that any alien entity that comes wandering our way will find the Earth a very tough pill to swallow," Sebastian replies quietly to the Queen of Genosha, that faint flicker of amusement still coloring his expression. There doesn't seem to be any doubt at all just why he has decided to throw this particular party, and clearly it is not because he feels like going out with a bang, with one last Hellfire Club bash. No, strange as it might seem it would appear that Sebastian Shaw is very much betting on the future of humankind.

Afterall, if there is no world left, what exactly will he have to strive towards owning?

"And I can certainly appreciate a desire to discuss weightier matters. I do believe that the evening is reaching a suitable critical mass. Barring anyone truly believing that a late arrival is the best arrival, I would guess that anyone who is anyone has likely made their presence known by now," the Black King suggests drily, absently adjusting that black cap atop his head as he takes another sip from that gauntlet.

Then he raises it up towards the green-haired woman with a smile. "I look forward to our discussion. I am certain it shall be as productive as our other dealings," the eagle-eyed man says, lips curving into a brief smile before he seems to relax into that indolent pose that is so much a show for the crowds.

Amy Winston has posed:
That went well. With Vlad moving to talk to Nico, Amethyst felt uneasy with interrupting. Taking her flute of champagne, she retreats, and finds herself a nice little wall that needs her help and support until Lorna finds her again. "Come on, Amy." she murmurs to herself. "You went to more royal balls than you cared to back on Nilaa. Why's this one got you rattled?" she asks herself.

The answer's easy. She's trying not to embarass herself in front of someone. And she has to play her cards close to her chest as she reaches down and plucks one of amethysts from her dress to roll it over in her hand, studying it. The spot that it was plushed from immediately seals back up.

The word through the tiara cause her to smile, even as she casts a brief spell onto the amethyst to place on her tiara and uses it to telepathically link with Lorna.

<< Thank you, Lorna. I'm still here. >>

Though for how much longer, she's not syre.

Mary Seward has posed:
Mary's fury is stayed. Rien brings up a good point. Now is not the place for this...Too fancy, too crowded. Plus...she didn't want to get Blake in trouble by association. An ageless vampire should have a better idea with patience.

"...Yeah, a drink sounds like a good idea right about now." Her hands go flat against her legs, no longer poised to strike at flesh and bone. Her fangs grind into her other teeth, as she grimaces but refrains from a hiss or snarl. This natural blood-lust of hers made temper an issue. She's old enough to have a good grasp on it, but with her personality, it wasn't an amazing grasp. Maybe, hurting someone after this party would make her feel better. What an idea that would be.

The burning light in her eyes dims in tune with her mood...and they land on Amethyst...then, Lorna. "...You two seem pretty close." The Queen of Blood nudges the Queen of Genosha.

Tessa has posed:
"Quite so. Ms. Seward, if you are feeling peckish simply tell me your preferred type and we will fetch it for you. Still warm, even. No nasty coagulation or separation issues, almost as quality as getting it directly from the source itself." Tessa turns her blank look on the vampire queen and raises her eyebrow fractionally. "It would be most uncouth to accost our guests, and it will get you banned from our establishment. There is no call for feeding on our guests without permission." Her eyebrow drops back into place, and one corner of her lips quirks up. "That said, should you find someone willing to be your donor, then we have private rooms where you might feed and they might recover safely afterward. Simply let one of the staff know you will need the space, and they will direct you to a room. Although... you must leave any living donors alive. No killing inside the Club, and our staff and guests are valuable. You understand, yes?"

Dick Grayson has posed:
A hand slips from Dick's pocket and a glance is cast toward the screen of the phone that fills his palm. He exhales a long-suffering sigh before his attention turns promptly back to Rien, casts a cheerful smile her way, and then offers a little frown, "Sorry, Rien, great meeting you and all, but I've got to get going". He lifts the phone as though some half-hearted indication of the need to go before he offers a casual explanation, "Apparently there's some situation relating to an underground gerbil fighting ring. Not the ring itself, but apparently the gerbils have gone full feral and started slaughtering their handlers. Now it's spilling out of the illegal fighting ring and I need to look into that, because, you know, detective and all that".

He sighs heavily then, clearly beleaguered by the cruelty shown to gerbils the world over, "Have some fun for me, alright?"

The last request is delivered with a flash of a grin before Dick's sinking back and his hand to moves the phone back to his pocket. Though he does hitch in his step long enough to offer a polite nod of his head toward Tessa, "Miss Fox, a pleasure, unfortunately I must be going".

Lorna Dane has posed:
<< I hear you, >> bounces right back, the occasional X-Man receiving the telepathic communique with a minimum of hesitation.

"Aah, but that was between John and I," Lorna smoothly retorts with a brisk, polite bow and easy smile. "I would be remiss if I didn't take care to introduce myself to you, too: after what he did for my associate, any friend of his is someone I'm eager to know."

Unhooking the jacket, she folds her other hand around Rien's and squeezes, warmly. The jacket hangs in place, draped and unmoving against her shoulder.

"If only for tonight," comes with a wink. Mary and Tessa get polite, but warm smiles, since they only just greeted one another; Grayson, a handshake of his own, tight and secure, if bereft of hand-enfolding. "Detective," she repeats as a threaded brow lifts. "Should I be looking over my shoulder when the favors come out, or saving you a taste?" It's a-- well, okay, eighty percent rhetorical icebreaker, light and inviting. Before she can double down on it, Mary nudges her side--

"We're pretty good friends," she tells the Queen of Blood, smiling into her fanged mien. "She's under my protection, in fact-- she and her people." Good enough friends, in fact, that - while she doesn't disengage from Mary, keeping her eyes set on the vampire Queen - she begins edging towards Amethyst, just in time to be spared the inevitable consequences of gerbil-on-gerbil violence. Invisible waves bounce between the emerald Queen and the amethyst-studded tiara, guiding her through the crowd while she keeps up conversation with Mary for as long as the Queen of Blood stays near:

"Are you planning on spending more time around the Club--?" she wonders, canting her head a little.

Amy Winston has posed:
<< I'm about to head out. Wanna travel with me my way? >> comes Amethyst's playful retort, even as she's preparing another amthyst just for that purpose.

She lets Lorna ping off of her until they find each other again and this time it is the young Princess that cleaves to the Queen's side, her arm slipping around her in a tender squeeze of her side.

"It's totes up to you." she says in contuation of a conversation that started elsewhere. "I just figured I've made a big enough of a splash tonight and was going to get some rest."

Rien D'Arqueness has posed:
Rien leans in towards Tessa and murmurs a soft, "Thank you," to the woman. She would be full willing to fight a blood-lusted Mary Seward. But that doesn't mean she WANTS to. This is a nice dress, dammit! Being able to head things off before they go too far is better on the wardrobe.

She turns towards Dick when he mentions needing to go, rising up to press two quick, chaste kisses to him, one on either cheek. "It was a pleasure, Detective. Truly. And believe me, I will have as much fun as I am able. Good luck with your... gerbils. Sad, they're such cute little things." There's a small hum of magic around Dick, centered on the kisses. A magic shield to protect the detective as he goes. Dampened within the club, once he's outside he'll have a magical escort!

Turning to let Dick pass, she tries a smile for Mary, "If you need a top-up, you're welcome to have a bite, chere. Blood, I can spare." It wouldn't be the first time she's fed a hungry vampire, even!

To Lorna, she chuckles softly, "Your associate is a friend of mine as well. So... the thanks continues, from me to the both of you. Well, John got his thanks already. But thank you, for helping him." Letting her hand drop from the shake, Rien smiles towards the Queen of Genosha, "Much like the Princess there, I'm neither from this world nor what I appear to be. We should certainly talk sometime. It might amuse you."

Mary Seward has posed:
Mary's smile is as phony as can be. "Thanks for letting me know...Don't want to step on any toes..." She's quick to shed the fake smile the moment she turns her head away. "Give me a break..." She may have wanted to get in the good graces of the Hellfire Club, but she also terribly despises being lectured, under any circumstance. Especially on the subject of who she may or may not sink her fangs into. At least Lorna is still around to keep her somewhat in a good mood. Or else she might have considered ditching entirely. This was supposed to be a mood-breaker from the apocalyptic threat, after all. She should be entertained.

"...Oh, you know...Might as well. I'm sure with my charm and good looks, I'll run into someone who'd just be dying to have my teeth in them...Not literally of course, rules and all..." She catches another look at Amy, while still talking to Lorna. "...You two look so sweet together. Hold onto that one, Lorna. She's a keeper..." She winks...what exactly she meant by that, well, she wouldn't say. She's sure Lorna would catch on

At the end of that thought, she turns back to Rien. "...Oh, well, if you're offering." She smiles. "I promise I'll be gentle..."

Dracula has posed:
The briefly escalated tension from across the room also carries it's own sort of feel, through the crowd and while Dracula might not turn his head towards the bar and the ground discussion there -- along with those diffused tensions -- he nevertheless seems to be hyper aware of exactly what is going on.

Instead he offers up a faintly amused expression at the look of surprise on Nico's face as she turns and practically runs into him, perhaps enjoying that little start of shock, that momentary discomfort. it is surely nothing that he has not seen on countless faces before, under much more dire circumstances to be sure.

"Then you need wonder no longer. For the moment, I call this place home, to the extent that I call anywhere home," he says lowly, his voice still somehow carryinng over the ambient sound of the surrounding crowd that ebbs and flows around them, but somehow never quite interferes, never quite injects themselves into that little bubble of solitude that seems to have manifested.

"As I recall, before we were so rudely interrupted last time, I do believe we were discussion your rather unique walking stick," Vlad says quietly, those dark eyes staring rather intently at the young woman. "I am surprise to see you here without it. As I recall, you said that it went everywhere with you, and yet here..." he says, motioning about the room and all the people - sheep and wolves alike - "Nothing."

Nico Minoru has posed:
There's just something about this guy.

Though if nothing else, the fact that he is associated with this place would at least help explain his tendancy towards the old-fashioned clothing styles. Some of the stuff is interesting enough admittedly, but she doesn't really get the appeal in dressing up like people from thousands of years ago already. Blaze your own path! Sure, its fine to borrow from the past, either because there were some interesting choices, or just to be ironic. But ugh.

Somehow though, Nico has a fairly good notion that debating fashion with the tall, pale man isn't really the way that she wants to do in this particular instance. That drink remains clutched in her hands, though that desire to down it has rather abruptly vanished. Keeping a clear head suddenly seems like a very good idea indeed.

"Things happen," she agrees in non-committal fashion, not even aware of the fact that she takes another small step backwards. "And appearances can be deceiving. My..." she begins, making a face, "walking stick might be closer then you'd imagine. But I didn't really think it went with the party atmosphere tonight," she counters.

Lorna Dane has posed:
"Good luck," Lorna says of Mary's need to sate herself. Her experience with Selene thus far is enough to suggest that-- probably, there's an audience for dinner with Mary to be found here-- and a sizable one, at that. It's just a question of whether the apex predator's able to find someone to suit her taste in prey, really.

"... and thanks for the advice," follows with a bemused brow-arch and an inward lean to peck Mary's cheek.

<< I don't remember valeting a winged horse on the way in, but... >> warms the psychic link between herself and Amethyst. Just a few seconds later, that warmth is joined by its accompanying smirk, entirely too proud of having committed to such a low-hanging tease as putting a hyperfeminine fantasy princess on a flying steed.

It's the little things that make life in the last days bearable-- like trying to squeeze good-natured groans from nervous new friends to help them unwind a little before it's time to rest.

"Whenever you're ready..." she adds aloud, offering the Princess her upturned palm with an exaggerated flourish and emerald twinkle.

Amy Winston has posed:
<<Ysopli is held by Opal. I plan to rescue him soon.>> comes Amethyst's respose to Lorna's tease. A little matter of fact, though she adds in playfully. <<He's a pegacorn. Wings and a horn.>>

And when they join up, Amethyst takes a moment, and then snaps the gem in her hand. Magic swirls around her, and she teleports them away the Genoshian embassy.

So much better than Uber.

Rien D'Arqueness has posed:
Rien gives a small nod to Mary and chuckles, "Not a problem. Not the first time I've performed the service." She glances in the direction Dick wandered off. And now the detective is safe from undue scrutiny! Looking back to Tessa, she smiles softly, "Do you think we might borrow a corner booth for a minute? I promise, no mess."

In the meantime, she looks back to Mary, "So what was the deal with the detective? He's cute and all, but I've certainly seen better. That ass, on the other hand..." She lifts a shrug there and smiles. "But that's me. You seemed to want to actually dig into him."

She's curious!

Mary Seward has posed:
"...Oh, it's nothing you should concern yourself with...He seemed familiar. Reminded me of a pretty bad night I had not too long ago...Not sure exactly why but...Whoever he is, he upsets me. But, that can wait for tonight."

She leans into Rien. "...Let's forget about all that. I'd much rather get my teeth into you, right now..." She chuckles deviously.

Tessa has posed:
"Of course, Rien. I know you will not disappoint, go enjoy yourselves." Tessa offers the two women a nod of her head and makes her way back to Sebastian, sitting primly on the arm of her throne.

"Unpleasantness dealt with, we owe Mr. Constantine a nice reward and Detective Grayson a nice apology gift. Spirits, perhaps? Send him some of Gotham's least finest gift-wrapped? Hm. We can think on it during our meeting later." Her eyes are warm as they regard the Black King. "We can speak more about the unpleasantness as well. Something did not quite add up, but I will need to view our security first, and perhaps schedule a consult with our dear Magus." She collects two glasses from a passing server, handing one to him while keeping the other for yourself. "Anything of note on your end, Darling?"

Dracula has posed:
That amusement doesn't dim though very little of it shows on the pale man's features, just that slightest up curve at the corners of his mouth.

"It is good to have a mystery or two about you, I find," he retorts quietly, dipping his head in the young woman's direction. "It can be most stimulating indeed. And useful, if one should ever be in need of a surprise," Dracula says lowly. Though it is hard to imagine just what might take him aback now, after all these centuries of life - or what passes for it.

Dipping his head towards Nico once more, he brings his hands together, that cane clutched between them, pressed to the ground before him as he stands there, posture perfect as he regards her. "Should you ever find that you wish to continue our discussion, you now know where you can find me. I suspect that this is not your first time amongst these halls. It tends to... leave a mark on people," he says, almost formally.

"But for now I shall leave you to your own entertainments Nico Minoru," he says, voice still very much having that air of formality about it. If he turns, if he chooses to make his way back into the crowd she won't see him retreat. One moment he is there, and the next he is simply... not.

Rien D'Arqueness has posed:
Rien inclines her head to Tessa with a smile, "Not to fear, I won't be away too long. I still want to set up a meet with you soon. Perhaps some shopping and wine? The former in Paris, the latter in Bordeaux? My treat, of course." She winks at Tessa before lookng back to Mary. "Lead the way!"

Mary Seward has posed:
"Don't get ahead of yourself. You're MY treat, tonight!" Mary laughs as she heads off with Rien in hand.