6682/New Beginnings at Sion

New Beginnings at Sion
Date of Scene:	24 June 2021
Location:	Sion - Nightclub
Synopsis:	A meeting of minds at Sion turns out very well, with Nicole taken on as the club's latest bartender.
Cast of Characters:	Betsy Braddock, Nicole Adams

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Betsy Braddock has posed:
When the door opens out into the street, there's the rush of cooled air, the sound of music (not yet the loud levels of the nightlife), and the sounds of movement. In the middle of the chaos is one Betsy Braddock, dressed in a bright fuschia skirt suit, towering over six foot tall in the textured gray heels she's paired with it. Trademark purple hair is pulled up in a french twist, exposing the pink diamonds in her ears. Her face has been flawlessly made up, the lip just shades darker than her suit, eyes done in subltle shades of gray with a black winged liner and mascara heightened lashes.
     There's a tablet cradled in one arm, a pen stylus in her opposite hand, as she stands in front of the bar. It seems she's currently doing inventory, of.. bar napkins?

Nicole Adams has posed:
     To say that the past week had been eventful for Nicole was, in a word, a study in understatement. There was the incident that necessitated her hasty departure from her apartment almost a week prior, to begin with. But now, at least, perhaps things were starting to look up. It had been a little while since she had reached out to one Betsy Braddock, through James, about a possible posting at Sion. Life is as it is, and she was finally called in to the club to meet with Betsy.

     The rush of cooled air that caressed her was a delightful contrast to the searing heat outside, enticing her indoors for a bit of respite from Nature's wrath. For most, that would perhaps be what it was. She, however, was here for a different purpose entirely. Simple, crisply pressed black slacks, a sleeveless draped silk halter top in ivory, and very minimalist strappy, chunk-heeled sandals in black were the order of the day. Her own hair was mostly left long, drawn up on one side with a simple comb, bedecked only in a row of freshwater pearls. Makeup was minimal, with just a hint of gloss on her lips, a bit of blush, the barest hint of bronze eyeshadow, and a little mascara. Her lips curled upwards in a smile as she took in the sight of the club, eyes alight with appreciation at its understated elegance.

     But, business needs must come first, so she made her way over to the bar, where she hoped that, if this was not the proprietress herself, that it might at least be someone who could point her in the right direction. "Beg pardon, ma'am," she said, clearing her throat. "Do you know where I might find Ms. Braddock?"

Betsy Braddock has posed:
Betsy Braddock turns on one heel in an oddly practiced move, and Nicole will see the face that's been on dozens of ad campaigns and magazine covers. "Well, you've found her. You must be Nicole." The stylus is slid inside of a pocket on her blazer, before she presses something on the tablet screen. She'll then offer over a conventional handshake, with a brilliant smile. "Welcome to Sion. Let's have a seat, shall we?"
     Betsy will lead the way towards a booth. "It's brutal out there, especially in those pants." She'll comment casually. "Can I get you a water, or a soda, perhaps?"

Nicole Adams has posed:
     "I couldn't very well come to a meeting in shorts," Nicole replied. "But I drew the line at a long-sleeved blouse." Laughing lightly, she reached out to offer her hand to Betsy, her grip firm and sure. "Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Braddock. Jimmy's spoken very highly of you."

     Formalities taken care of at last, she follows Betsy's lead towards the booth, allowing herself a moment to breathe in the cool air, becoming accustomed to the scents and sounds of the club. "Perhaps seltzer with a twist of lemon? That would be perfect, and thank you so much!"

Betsy Braddock has posed:
"I'm a big fan of short skirts in this weather, but that's every woman's personal style choice." Betsy says, amusement in her voice. She'll set her tablet down on the table, a hand gesturing for Nicole to sit. "Certainly. Give me just one moment, I'll be back."

Betsy will turn and walk away, slipping behind the bar. Clearly she's acquainted herself with the space, as she need not search for glasses or already cut up lemons. There's the sound of ice against glass, though one can't see what the model/businesswoman is doing. She'll return, setting a napkin down in front of Nicole, cream colored with a bold print of an aster and a capital S on it in a metallic silver-violet. The glass goes atop it, iced seltzer water with two slices of lemon submerged. Betsy has her own glass, having opted for a slice of lemon and one of lime for herself, and her own napkin. "So, James told me you have bartending experience already, correct?"

Nicole Adams has posed:
     A smile plays upon Nicole's lips as she studies the design upon the napkin, tracing the petals of the aster delicately with one fingertip. When her musings are broken by the appearance of the glass upon the napkin, she raises the glass in salute, taking a sip of the seltzer. "Slainte. Mhm, he's right. I've enjoyed being over at the Good Room on Meserole Ave for about the past year and a half. If you've heard of them, it's very likely for the live music they like bringing to the venue." Leaning back into the booth, she turns her regard a bit more fully on Betsy, chuckling softly. "A little more rough-and-ready in style there, but don't let that fool you. They still kept standards."

Betsy Braddock has posed:
"Salud." Betsy will reply as she slides into her seat, shifting the tablet aside. "Darling, working in rougher dives is not a detraction at all. In fact, I prefer it. Nightclubs can be madhouses, and such skills can always be handy. I mean, I did hire your boyfriend as a bouncer with eyes on further promotion, but I know he could be considered overkill for the bouncing part." There's a slow smile, before Betsy chuckles.
     "The plan is to have nights with live music here, as well. I've been reaching out through various contacts, to try and lure some larger names for more intimate shows, perhaps on weeknights. Then there's my intention to promote local, as well as mutant musicians, so.." There's a slight tip her her head to the right. "I should be upfront. I'm not hiding that mutants work here. I'm eager to offer a chance for mutants that are obvious and not, a chance to be employed in a job where their boss not only is aware, but is one herself. It could bring unwanted attention, when word gets out. Are you up to dealing with people making comments? Clearly you're not an obvious mutant, but people may speculate."

Nicole Adams has posed:
     A light sigh escapes Nicole, and she dips her head once. While Betsy's been elaborating on her vision for Sion, Nicole's napkin seems to have become a bit of origami on its own. A little fold here, a little tuck there, as if worked by unseen hands, until not a napkin is left sitting there, but a delicately folded paper crane.

     "The way life has been going, there's not much of a way I can really hide being a mutant for too much longer," she finally says. "I've been relatively lucky so far, despite the care center episode back in February. But that's been... remembered. First, the Hellfire Club nipped at my heels a bit. Then an Erik Lensherr had a few words with me at the Spring Festival a couple months later. Frankly, if that's going to be the case, I'd rather be with others who are openly mutant and be honest about it, rather than try to live a lie."

Betsy Braddock has posed:
Betsy Braddock will let her eyes drop to the napkin. "You know, that was for the condensation." Her tone is amused, however, before the crane will shift, lifting into the air to slowly circle above their heads as if attached to an invisible mobile one might see in a child's room. "Telekinesis, I see. What am I /not/ seeing?" The british woman sounds curious, violet eyes locked on the blonde before her, even as she sips at her seltzer water while the crane slowly sails to land on the table as if a real crane on water.

Nicole Adams has posed:
     Reaching up with one hand, Nicole gingerly nudges the floating paper napkin crane with one fingertip, eyes alight with almost child-like delight at what is very likely such an elementary show of skill. "And yet it became a source of beauty. Funny, how things work out like that."

     Her smile widens as she watches the little bit of origami float in for a landing on the table, chuckling softly. "Well, let's just say you're highly unlikely to see me injured on the job, or drunk. For me to even -become- injured, I'd have to take one hell of a fall, or something equally drastic. And even at that, I heal very quickly--hence, too, the inability to get drunk. To put it another way, even Asgardian mead won't knock me down."

Betsy Braddock has posed:
"Durable and you heal. That's.. pretty useful. I've always been jealous of those that can heal themselves. We have another that will be on bouncer duty." There's a sip of seltzer, as she continues to watch the slightly younger woman. "My telekinesis is incredibly useful, but it's not a cure all for avoiding injury. I should disclose, up front, that I am also a telepath...among other skills. Some people are incredibly distrustful of telepaths, which I understand, hence the full disclosure. However, I prefer to keep that bit of my mutantcy under wraps. As in, no one not working here should be told, so on and so on." There's a flutter of her fingers towards the door in a gesture. "I'm putting a lot into this club, and putting my modelling career in danger, outing myself even to speculation. So discretion is a byword here, for those of us that don't want everything known."

Nicole Adams has posed:
     "I'm sorry, what was that you just said? I didn't hear a word." Nicole takes a sip of her seltzer, a wry smile upon her face. Nope. No telepaths here, no sirree! "That does remind me, Ms. Braddock. Should I be tending bar and I find someone trying to sneak an underage drink, how do you prefer it be handled? I normally keep some mocktail recipes on hand to save their dignity, and for those who just want to keep a clear head. But there will no doubt be some very persistent sorts...."

Betsy Braddock has posed:
"Mocktails are a wonderful thing, thank you for that. There will undoubtedly be some underaged trying to get in, trying to get to the bar. If they get insistent, you can just ping me. There's a button under the bar that will ping my phone, or if you just mentally shout, I should hear it." There's a chuckle there, one might think she's kidding. "I have no problem torching someone's dignity, if they want to put my business in danger, no matter how young and stupid they may be, as we all were, once."

Nicole Adams has posed:
     "I don't envy them, if you need to be called out onto the floor." Nicole finishes off the last of her seltzer, but as she turned her napkin into origami, keeps a hold of the glass for the moment. "We were all young and stupid once. The lucky ones grow out of it." There is just a hint of bitterness creeping into her tone, and on the surface of her thoughts, the briefest mental flash of an image--a slightly older man and woman, with features and coloration very similar to her own. This image is quickly banished to the back of her mind, her focus brought back to the present.

     "You mentioned that you did not want others outside of those that work here knowing of your gifts. Does this mean...?" One finely arched brow lofts, and Nicole peers over at Betsy, a hopeful smile on her face.

Betsy Braddock has posed:
"Nor should you. I'm not nice, when pushed too far." She will finish her own seltzer, before she will use her TK to move it through the air over to the bar. She will lift her own brows to mirror Nicole's one. "Does it mean what, Nicole?" She's clearly not 'listening in' to the other woman's thoughts.

Nicole Adams has posed:
     Well, in for a penny, in for a pound! Nicole takes in a light breath, and smiles. "Does this mean that I might look forward to working here?" Though her fingers weren't crossed, at the moment, one could almost hear it in her voice. For a few seconds, as she waits, one could almost hear a pin drop in their immediate vicinity.

Betsy Braddock has posed:
There's a laugh, before Betsy nods. "Oh, that. Yes. This was more a formality, and to make sure you understood what my intentions were for the place, and to make sure you knew what would you would have for a boss. "

Nicole Adams has posed:
     "I think I can see quite clearly what I will have for a boss," Nicole replies, her eyes twinkling and her smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Someone with a great deal of class, kindness, strength--and the wisdom to know when to use which one." She laughs lightly, visibly relieved, tension she hadn't even realized had been there fading away. "I'll certainly try to do my best by you, Ms. Braddock, and I look forward to starting here."

Betsy Braddock has posed:
"Flattery might get you somewhere." Betsy says, speaking with amusement flirting out from under that British accent. "Well, get ready. I'll have your shirt ready when you arrive for your first shift. Do tell James I said hello, won't you?" She slides to rise, smiling. "All I ask is that people do their best. I look forward to working with you, Ms. Adams. "