7357/Meeting the Contessa pt 1

Meeting the Contessa pt 1
Date of Scene:	13 August 2021
Location:	The Well
Synopsis:	Lydia and company meet the Contessa Isabella and introductions are made. Pleasantries all around and Lydia signs one of her books. In the end they decide to retire to someplace more private.
Cast of Characters:	Lydia Dietrich, Raven Darkholme, Clarice Ferguson

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Lydia Dietrich has posed:
Burning curiosity has made Lydia call Contessa Isabella sooner rather than later. It was a pleasant, if short, conversation with Lydia saving her myriad of questions before they meet. She's taking Mystique and Clarice with her, both because they're probably just as curious, and for security, and they gathered at the Asteroid for Clarice to port them down to the location.

The location of choice could only be The Well, out in Soho. Where else could you possibly meet an overly dramatic admirer with a mysterious history than the most haunted place in New York City? The atmosphere is just too perfect to pass up.

"Ooooh, I'm excited!" Lydia says to the pair of mutants as they get ready. "I've got my journal here and everything in case I want to take notes!"

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Mystique had spent a few days tracking down everything she could on the Contessa Isabella Esposito, frankly there was a lot.

She was born in 1994 to Count Lorenzo Esposito, and his wife Sofia. She was an only child, as her birth caused medical issues for Sofia. The family was descended directly from Italian royalty, involved in hundreds of charity and philanthropic organizations, owned hundreds of businesses around the world, and were well known and loved in the small town they spent their summers in.

Isabella inherited everything the family owned at the age of sixteen when her parents were both killed, along with several others of noble lineage, in a freak boating accident. The investigation was a shut and closed case, they were boating and struck by an unexpected storm.

She attended Harvard Medical, has a PhD in Medicine and is a surgeon. She was arrested in 2019 at a rally for support of Mutant rights that went south and violence ensued, but the charges were later dropped.

Her full title and name is Contessa, Doctor Isabella Giada Viola Esposito.

Sitting now at the Bistro with Lydia and Clarice, knowing there were a few extra Brotherhood 'mingling' in the bistro and outside on the streets, Mystique was not entirely certain what to expect. In a way, she was excited for Lydia meeting a fan, but at the same time every paranoid fiber of her being said something bad was going to happen.

"What would you take notes on?" She asks Lydia, ordering herself a coffee for the time being and nothing else. "What she's wearing?"

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    Clarice is not quite sure what to expect from the day's meeting - she's only part way through the first of Lydia's books, a fact she'd mentioned only briefly to Lydia and Mystique - but she's curious to see how things go. She's actually dressed up for the occassion, opting for the white dress she had bought with Lydia and Mystique for the second time, complete with the silver sandals she'd bought, but without the earrings this time. She orders a light spritzer - with a such a low alcohol content it's unlikely to give her any sort of buzz, as they trio settle in at one of the tables.
    "I don't know - why bother when I'll obviously be the better dressed?" Clarice quips, while feigning a conceited flip of her hair.

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
Lydia nods, "That, how she dresses, how she talks, that kind of thing. Maybe some of her history that isn't covered by what we discovered about her. After all, nothing we found explains how she was able to bypass B's defenses to put the letter into him."

She turns to Clarice, "It's more observational than just pictures. It's how she moves, little quirks that she might have. It's an observational exercise that I do to try to keep the descriptions and looks of my characters fresh."

Lydia herself is dressed nicely enough. She's got a floral skirt on, the top of which is a nice breezy pink that slowly fades into flowers at the hem. She's got a matching pink blouse on made of light material, perfect for the summer heat.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
For this meeting Mystique has chosen to dress some what up, but not overly so. She's wearing a tailored woman's suit in a blue so dark it almost looks black. The button front blouse is a pale blue and the tie around her neck pops as the splash of color in violet.

"There were numerous pictures of her at various charity events in her teen years, but after that they are mostly the sort of posing for a photographer for college, graduation, that sort of thing," comes her answer as she adds sugar and cream to her coffee. "Looking at the long list of things, she's kept herself /very/ busy since her parents died. In all the right social clubs for nobility, traveled to numerous countries... wait, there was one photo with her passport."

Pulling her tablet out of her jacket pocket, she sets to work pulling up am image of the woman to share. "I mean, you aren't going to find 'attended school of golem magic' on the internet Lydia, that sort of things tends to remain locked up /by/ magic, which I can't use."

Raven Darkholme has posed:
There can be no mistake that this woman comes from money. As she enters the bistro, she wears a form fitting dress with short petal sleeves. The dress is done in a bold geometric pattern in black and white, with a black belt around her slender waist. On her feet is a pair of white pumps, with a single diagonal black strap across the top of her foot. Over the dress is a long black trench cloak, the deep hood presently back off her head. She carries a small clutch of black, and nothing else. Her skin is pale as ivory, her make-up is flawless and looks professionally done, and her deep brown hair has been pulled up into a fanciful bun on her head. Even her jewelry screams money, diamonds and rubies on the necklace, which matches the earrings and bracelet.

Isabella knows what Lydia looks like, knows all about her apparently. As her deep brown, almost black eyes sweep the room and immediately spot who she is looking for, a smile touches her full lips. She walks with the grace of a feline toward the table, removing the trench cloak from her body and hanging it loosely over her arm. When she reaches the table she extends her free hand toward Lydia.

"Lydia Dietrich, I am honored to make your acquaintance." Her voice is melodic, touched lightly with an Italian accent, clearly she has been speaking English for a while. Those brown-black eyes look to Clarice and then to Mystique. "Clarice Ferguson, Raven Darkholme... this is indeed a glorious meeting. May I join you?"

Dress: https://www.rotita.com/rotita-color-block-flare-sleeve-round-neck-dress-g241361.html?currency=USD&gclid=CjwKCAjwjdOIBhA_EiwAHz8xm0G1S-Tk_Njp95nXYWXJr8luq9pzAKxFmvKYLZC9K1_-1UGKb4CZvBoCX7EQAvD_BwE

Trench Cloak: https://www.wish.com/product/5c1748ea457b0b22a68546ed?from_ad=goog_shopping&_display_country_code=US&_force_currency_code=USD&pid=googleadwords_int&c=BcampaignIdD&ad_cid=5c1748ea457b0b22a68546ed&ad_cc=US&ad_lang=EN&ad_curr=USD&ad_price=36.00&hide_login_modal=true&share=web

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    Clarice peers curiously at the photo, then sits back into her seat to sip at her spritzer. It was a hand-mixed thing of club soda, gin, and an apricot-jalapeno shrub that was actually quite good. "It's always shocking learning there are areas to which your education doesn't extend," Clarice says in an amused voice - flashing Raven a smile, just before the woman they were waiting for arrives.
    She studies the woman's form, attire, and movements with curiosity - and with a practiced eye. She was, after all, one of the Genoshan Royal Guard - and she'd been trained to evaluate threats and look for locations where weapons could be hidden, and with the coat on (God was it nice) there were plenty of places where that could be the case.
    "Countessa," she greets the woman simply, allowing Lydia to make the invitation.

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
"You're right, of course," Lydia tells Mystique. "It took me a while to find what I was looking for, but it wasn't impossible. Especially in New York where magic is /everywhere/. I would imagine Rome being moreso."

"I wonder what..." her voice trails off as Isabella makes her way into the bistro. There is absolutely no mistaking the woman to be anybody else, and in fact her head isn't the only one to turn at her entrance. If it wasn't for the fact that her heart was already taken by Raven, she would have been immediately smitten by the woman.

"Contessa Isabella," she says, the name just rolling off the tongue. She stands, and flashes a brilliant smile, taking the hand in her own. "The honor is mine." She gestures to the open seat, "Please join us." She'll sit once Isabella does. "So what brings you to New York City?" she says pleasantly starting the conversation. "Certainly it can't be just for meeting me."

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Mystique's amber eyes immediately shift to this woman, watching her every move, studying her. She wasn't a royal guard, but she was a paranoid mutant who always expected trouble. There was something about the woman that made her left eye twitch, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

When the woman reaches the table, she is offered a nod from the cobalt mutant but she also let's Lydia be the one for greeting and inviting to join. She could see the beauty, in fact it was amazing that she wasn't a model, but still that little something nagged at the back of her mind.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    It was a relief to Clarice when the coat comes off - and she turns her attention to studying the dress instead. Something small and slender could easily be concealed beneath the sleeves, but the smooth curves of the rest of the dress lead one to believe it would be difficult to hide anything else. And of course anything small could be secreted inside the clutch.
    As the woman joins them, Clarice raises a hand to get the attention of the server - and easy enough task given the vibrant hue of her skin, and her proximity to this woman who had drawn so many eyes.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Isabella shakes the offered hand gently, her grip just enough to be considered polite without truly holding on for too long. Normally she would wear gloves, but in the summer time in New York that would be too much, the trench was already suspicious but she was a whore to high fashion and at night, a coat was required.

Studying the table a moment, the placement of the chairs around it, she selects one and moves it so that it is slightly closer to Lydia's chosen seat, but not too close... she's not trying invade the woman's space. The coat gets placed carefully over the back of it before she lowers herself into the seat and immediately crosses right leg over the left. The clutch is set on the table and her hands get folded in her lap.

"Thank you," she then offers, a bright smile of perfect teeth offered. "I am in New York for a surgery, and the recovery of a patient and could not miss the opportunity to meet you. I realize my methods were a bit..." a coy smile plays on her red lips. "... unique, but that is something I am, or try to be."

She offers her attention to the waitress to say, "Cherry wine." then looks back to Lydia, "And please, no more Contessa... my friends call me Izzy."

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
Of the three of them, Lydia is the one that's relaxed and excited to meet the Contessa. It's because of her companions paranoia that she can be so casual for such an odd meeting. Nothing bad will happen to her with those two around. They'd make sure of it.

That's right. This woman is a surgeon. She and her mother probably knew of each other professionally. If she were on speaking terms with her mother, she might ask her about it. But.... one problem at a time.

Lydia's eyes crinkle a bit in amusement when Isabella mentions her unique form of communication and she says, "I admit. Sending message by golem isn't exactly the normal way my fans get a hold of me." She chuckles, "An email would have sufficed. I do read those." She knows that some authors don't from sheer volume of emails, but Lydia has a small enough following that she's able to read, and sometimes respond to the ones that get to her.

"But 'Contessa Isabella' just rolls right off the tongue," She chuckles. "Izzy it is, then." She's not quite ready to call this woman 'friend' but she's not going to let that show on her features. Besides, there's no reason to not be friendly at this point in time. She just has to be careful about cultivating parasocial relationships.

When the waitress comes she orders, "That sounds splendid, but no alcohol for me. I'll take a cherry Italian soda." She brings her smile back to Isabella, "I know they're about as Italian as French Fries are French," she says apologetically, as if her choice of beverage might offend her.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Collecting the coffee cup from the table, Mystique keeps her eyes on the Contessa, though she does offer a smile. Clearly this woman was informed, she knew who Lydia's companions were, so it was likely she knew /exactly/ who they were. She wasn't here to be polite and chummy, she was here to make sure nothing happened to her girlfriend. She sips at her coffee quietly, not choosing to add anything just yet, but she might, depending on the woman.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "Well, traditionally one would address her as Your Excellency," Clarice supplies, "after the initial exchange of greetings." Because of //course// Clarice knows something like that. She takes another sip of her cocktail, falling silent to allow the other two women to converse, her own gaze going to Mystique briefly, as she tries to guage her mentor's impressions of the other woman by her micro-expressions.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Hands resting folded in her lap, Isabella chuckles softly at the Italian Soda.

"There are so many thing in this world that have been labelled based off the impression of what they copying. Italian soda is quite different, nothing like what is called that here in the United States, but there are just enough similarities to allow it."

Turning her head, the diamond earrings dance back and forth, "The title is no longer truly important in Italy, it really only comes into use in Rome, but my work takes me all over the world. When I am finished here in New York, I am going to Ethiopia with Doctors Without Borders."

Now her head turns more slowly to offer Mystique a nod and smile before continuing on again to Lydia. "Email seemed impersonal. So much is lost with all these electronic communications, I prefer something more personal, something with care and thought put on it." Collecting her clutch she opens it and removes a book Lydia will recognize immediately. First edition copy of Heart of Stone. "Would you be so kind as to autograph this for me?"

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
"Oh?" Lydia says, her eyebrows raised in curiosity. "It's good to use your skills to help those in need," she says. "You obviously know of my work in Bushwick, trying to help build the community there, and to help keep it safe."

She leans forward "Tell me," she says conversationally. "How did you come across enough Kabbalistic magic in order to slip that note into B? He would have prevented anybody else from trying that." She seems genuinely curious about this. Nothing in this woman's background would suggest that that particular branch of magic would be of interest to her. Maybe other types, but Kabbalism?

She gets a surprise when Isabella, excuse her, Izzy pulls out a first edition of her first book. "Of course!" She takes the well loved book, running a finger along the spine, feeling the creases that's been created when a paperback has been read so many times. She opens to the front cover while a tendril of ectoplasm snakes down into her purse and pulls out an honest to goodness fountain pen. 'To Izzy,' she writes in practiced, flowing cursive, 'May your heart be heavy in love, and your nights be full of passion." She blows on the ink to encourage it to dry, before folding the front cover and handing it back to her. "There you go."

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Mystique wondered just how long it would take Lydia to ask that question, it was the first thing she was interested in knowing out of all the fangirling from the noble. Lydia was due her fans of course, she worked hard and the books really did touch deep in the soul of a romantic, even if she herself was not one.

The waitress brings the Italian soda and set sit on the table, and then a glass of cherry wine is set by the clutch. A couple of napkins are set down for those possible needs, and then she offers to refill Mystique's cup, which is accepted.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    Clarice has fallen back into the role of silent observer - her posture seemingly relaxed though she remains alert and cautious. Her gaze flicks down to the purse as it's opened - a moment of puzzlement flashing across her features and only visible to the most attentive of observers, before a more neutral and polite expression takes its place once more.
    She lets her gaze flick to Lydia for a moment as she asks the question they've all been wondering, before her attention goes back to Isabella, between tiny sips of her drink. As much as Clarice was enjoying it, she was determined to nurse it slowly.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
There it was. The smile that spreads across Isabella's face is pure mischief, which brings a sparkle to her brown/black eyes as she looks at Lydia. Accepting the book back, she gives it a light hug before replacing it to her clutch, and while there picks up her wine glass.

"Thank you so much for that," she offers with honey to her voice. "I have read that book so many times, honestly I could likely recite it to you in English and Italian."

Playing for time, the smile remains as it was as she takes a small sip of the wine. "Cherry wine is sweeter than wines made with grapes," she offers, though no one asked. "Almost as sweet as Passover wine, but not quite." A soft swirl of the wine is done, and then another tiny sip.

"I am afraid my dear Lydia, that the subject of those abilities is not something for a public place like this. I cannot risk the chance that someone over hears," she glances around at those sitting at the tables around them. If she recognized any of the faces, it didn't show in her face. "Who knows who these people might be working for? I know that you have brought your protection, and that some are likely here for just that reason, but the other? No, I am afraid we would need a much more private setting for that discussion."

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
Lydia leans back after putting her pen away, and crosses her legs. So far the conversation has been pleasant, but the request for more privacy pings that bit of paranoia that she's been picking up from dating Mystique. Still, she doesn't let this concern touch her face, keeping it pleasant.

"Is there somebody in specific that you don't want to overhear, or is it just general discretion because I have to admit," she says with a chuckle, "talking about magic is perhaps the least interesting thing about the three of us." She refers to, of course, the fact that she has an aura of ectoplasmic mists that always glows green, and that Mystique and Clarice both have unusual skin colors and are obviously mutants.

She studies the Contessa with a small, pleasant smile before asking, "Where did you have in mind?"

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Mystique sits up a little more, left leg crossing over the right as she sets the coffee cup down.

There are a number of things she would like to point out, some Lydia covered, but it was best that she didn't open her mouth. The words that would come out were not flattering, not kind, and not going to help Lydia with her fan. Not taking her eyes off the woman, she scoots her chair back very slightly and rests her hands in her lap. It's a simple move really, making more space for her legs, but Clarice would recognize the move as clearly as if Mystique held up a sign. More room meant being ready to jump, move, go across the table if needed, to act should something happen.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "Do you have many enemies, Countessa?" Clarice asks in a calm voice, her gaze sweeping the room for the moment as if searching for a threat, and finding none. She takes another sip of here drink, then sets it down for the moment - this frees up both her hands for javelins, of course, though she can't yet detect any signs of tension or readiness in the unfamiliar woman's form.
    Mystique's new posture, of course, is noted without comment or surprise.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
It may not be obvious, it happened so subtly that the paranoid mutants likely didn't even notice, but ever since Isabella sat down, not one human in the place had pointed or stared. There were no whispered comments, the waitress had been nothing but kind and charming.

"The world is filled with mutants my dear," Isabella says softly, gesturing toward each at the table. "Each of you is amazingly beautiful in ways that we humans cannot even hope to imagine. Most of us fear what you are because we cannot have it. As I sit here with the three of you, I am well aware that the level of tension remains high, that Raven fears for you, that I will try something, or hurt you. Clarice is ready to act on Raven's indication of readiness."

There is a pause here, because Raven did exactly what she was just saying, so her eyes shift to Clarice and sure enough the signal was there as well. "I have many enemies," she continues, still perfectly calm.

"My gifts are long and sorted, magic being only one of the things I am capable of, but if I had wished to hurt you, do you really think that I would put a note in the Golem? That would have asked you to being guards? Do you really want to know so much about me, that you are willing to risk my enemies using you for information about me?"

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
Lydia lets an easy smile play on her lips. "Forgive my companions," she says. "You have to admit that the manner in which you contacted me is rather unusual so it has them somewhat on edge." She shrugs, playing as if it doesn't really matter to /her/. "It wouldn't be unheard of for somebody to try to harm me to get to Mystique," she says, reaching across the table to set a hand on her lover's thigh. She gives it a squeeze, reassuring herself of her presence before pulling away so she can take a sip of her Italian soda.

She lets out a chuckle and nods. "From what little we know about you, you are a /fascinating/ woman and I'd love to get to know you better," she says, genuinely. "I can't imagine why anybody would be your enemy to the point to where they'd plant spies and hope to get a whiff of conversation." Another chuckle escapes her, "Then again, I probably wouldn't have even /thought/ about such things before I became involved in the Brotherhood."

"So," she says, looking Isabella in the eyes this time. "Where would you prefer to go?" This is the second time she's asked that question, and it was artfully dodged. Perhaps purposefully, even.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Mystique actually snorts a momentary laugh at Isabella, she was good or did her homework, either way it made the cobalt mutant grin.

When Lydia reaches over to touch her thigh, she takes a moment to lay her hand on the back of Lydia's before letting her have it back.

"You wouldn't be the first person to try something with the person I love to get to me," she offers, despite Lydia having said something similar. "I have no intentions of letting that happen to Lydia."

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    "And I have no intention of allowing harm to come to my boss," Clarice remarks simply, "If there's anything I can do about it. And that protection now extends to Lydia. The truth of the matter is it's often hard to know what one's intentions are, and so easy for those intentions to be doubted, as we well know." She subtly elludes to Mystique's recent ordeal, without shifting in her position just yet.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Isabella smiles brightly again, a perfect row of white teeth encompassed by perfect red lips. Reaching up she brushes her perfectly manicured nails across her neck, a random motion of someone with an itch.

"Of course you both intend to protect her," she offers, looking between Clarice and Mystique. "But I am not a threat. Actions are the only thing that truly matter, and those take time to reveal. I can tell you repeatedly that I have no ill intent, but it will take time for those words to be put into action."

Turning her attention back to Lydia, the smile remains though her eyes sparkle just looking at her. "It does not matter to me where we go to talk, so long as there are no other ears to hear our words. Once we can speak privately you will better understand my enemies, why they could be anywhere, and why they are after me."

Once more she looks to each person present, ending back on Lydia. "I would very much like the chance to get to know you better Lydia, but I understand if the risk is too great. If there is a place that your girlfriend and friend would find acceptable, then let be away to this place of your choosing."

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
Lydia drums her fingers on her knees lost in thought. She turns to Mystique and leans over to her to talk in low tones. "What do you think?" she asks. "I'd love to get to know her better because a woman like that just /has/ to have an interesting story. Do you have a place where we could take her that you feel is safe enough?" She glances over at the woman and lowers her voice even more, "Besides, she could be quite the ally if her intentions are honest."

Raven Darkholme has posed:
Mystique leans in closer to Lydia to ensure she can hear her, but her eyes remain on Isabella. She had already been trying to think of a place in New York that might be safe, but the truth was if the woman knew New York well enough, there was no such thing. The reality, there was only one place safe enough to go, and it would actually serve two purposes. One, it would allow Lydia a chance to speak to the woman in safety, and two, it would prove if the woman was actually sincere about no ill intent.

"Invite her to the Asteroid," she finally says quietly but bluntly.

Clarice Ferguson has posed:
    Clarice had been thinking similarly to Mystique - though while it was certainly the place where they'd have the most power over this woman, it was also their home, and where she might be able to do the most harm.
    Still. She //seemed// unarmed, but depending on a person's gifts and talents - that might matter very little. Still pondering this little dilemma, she picks up her drink for another small sip.

Raven Darkholme has posed:
While Lydia spoke to Mystique in an attempt to be quiet about it, Isabella shifted her eyes to Clarice, offering privacy as best she good. The purple mutant gets a smile, almost as if she knows what Clarice is thinking, but she doesn't. She has a great many talents, telepathy was not one of them.

Once Lydia sits up again, her deep brown eyes return to the glowing beauty. "Did you select a location?" she asks with a smile on her face, giving no indication that she had heard every word said. She takes another sip of the cherry wine, savoring the flavor before swallowing. "If you have, then shall we finish our drinks before heading there? It has been a long while since I had cherry wine, and I rather enjoy the brand they have here."

Lydia Dietrich has posed:
Lydia nods in agreement to Mystique. "I was thinking that myself," she admits. She leans back and gives Isabella a sly grin with a twinkle in her eye. "I know just the place," she says. "It has the most /breathless/ view of the night sky I have ever seen."