8782/Paying The Dues

Paying The Dues
Date of Scene:	22 November 2021
Location:	Shaw's Residence - Hellfire Club
Synopsis:	Shaw and Sue discuss Membership Dues to the HFC.
Cast of Characters:	Sebastian Shaw, Susan Richards

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Sebastian Shaw has posed:
It is later in the evening, seven or eight, and Shaw is back in his residence. This does not mean he's stopped working. In fact, from the looks of things he hasn't even sat down to dinner yet. Rather, he is flipping through something on one of the touchscreen pads that have replaced all the paper he used to go through in a day. The man seems somewhat irritated by it all, but then, his phone buzzes and he looks down. The message is simple: Susan Richards is here about a lapsed membership.

There are some people that are simply on a list that Shaw keeps in his head, people that he should give a more personal touch to when dealing with the bureaucracy of the Club. The Richards it would seem is one of those people. He picks up his phone, and dials the front desk, "Send her up, if she's so inclined. Otherwise I will be down in a moment to see her." He pockets the phone in his coat, and gives himself a quick glance in a nearby mirror, taking only a moment to adjust his cravat to ensure he looks properly made up as it were.

Susan Richards has posed:
Sue's had a busy day. Not incredibly busy, really. The morning was a tad eventful, but any potential trouble was defused with a lunchtime coffee. The afternoon was really just more of the usual mundanity, managing finances, a little light scientific research. The sort of thing Sue's been doing far too much of lately.

But handling the bills provided a unique opportunity to get out she wasn't expecting. Of course all the utilities and insurances were paid, but as Sue did her bookkeeping, she discovered a notice that membership to the Hellfire Club was due. Indeed, it was joined by a couple of politely disappointed notices about being _overdue_. She really has been too focused on work and mundane affairs, it seems.

And so with dinner handled, Reed presumably back in one of his labs, Johnny and Ben no doubt arguing with the television about sports, Sue dresses up and heads out. Certainly she's not dressed to the nines. Sevens though. Perhaps even eights, if one's fond of classic little black dresses and heels that won't quite measure up to being the tallest in the club. Makeup's done in cool tones, no blush on the cheeks, the better to highlight red lipstick, hair done up in waves of volume and bounce. After all, one dresses in the classic jumpsuit for space adventures, and one dresses for the club when going to pay dues.

Once she's allowed entry, Sue tucks the notice she brought into the small purse hanging by a thin strap from her left shoulder, steps into the elevator and ascends. Part of her can't help but wonder if she should have brought a treasure chest or a bag of uncut diamonds. Surely the Hellfire Club is best paid in unique fashion, all the better to keep up the club's reputation.

Sebastian Shaw has posed:
The ride up is uneventful, and when the doors open to Shaw's private residence, he is sitting at the table, waiting patiently. At first sight, well, he cannot help himself. He IS a bit of a sucker for heels and little black dresses, and his eyes glide over her form a bit obviously, before they settle on hers, and he smiles very slowly. "Mrs. Richards. It is a pleasure to see you again. It has been far, far too long." He says this as he stands and walks towards the elevators, holding a hand out to direct her inside.

"Please, come, join me. Sorry for inviting you up rather than coming down. I find these sorts of discussions are better held over a glass of wine and a plate of something small. Away from prying eyes." Shaw says, before he comes to a chair and gently pulls it out for her, "I haven't had a bite since breakfast, so I may insist on a little food as well."

Susan Richards has posed:
Susan's lips split in a slow, practiced smile, every inch a movie starlet nearly, but then she's so very used to turning on the charm for the public. She breezes out of the elevator with a little smooth to the skirt portion of her dress, "Mr. Shaw it has indeed been too long. The letters were proof enough of that, let alone me losing them in the stacks of envelopes at home." She sighs and rolls her eyes playfully, "You know how it is though. Lost in work and suddenly the social life passes you by. Why, we even missed this year's Halloween!"

She offers her hand out primly and lets Sebastian usher her in, settling into the offered seat as she laughs out softly, "And of course. After all, dealing with membership dues in the front lobby? Why that's practically the procedure of a credit union, let alone a bank. Neither of which is fitting for a club that insists on the mystique and allure of this place, no?" Eyebrows perk as she sighs, "Of course, I suppose in your case getting lost in work still leaves you here, hm?"

Sebastian Shaw has posed:
"It is a difficult cross to bear, being proprietor of the it location for the famous and beautiful of New York City." Shaw replies teasingly. He walks over to the intercom and puts in a quick order with one of the restaurants in the building, before he then heads in the direction of a wine fridge, "Red or white?" he asks, before pulling out a bottle of the corresponding color at her answer.

His movements are easy, he knows he is in charge in the room, and so is his conversation, "I myself missed Halloween this year as well. A great shame, to miss out on the best holiday of the year. A veritable feast for the eyes. I do not fault you for missing our repeated nagging for more funds. It is...the least enjoyable part of my job. Usually people link things to online bank accounts, but occasionally whichever account you've put it on hits an expiration date and then we have to send letters and they tend to get lost in the pile of correspondence our clients receive."

Shaw settles into a seat next to Susan, and adds with a slightly mischevious smile, "Thus, eventually, it comes to this: a meeting to hash things out. I'd have let you and Dr. Richards stay on the rolls forever but, I must answer to powers greater than myself: the accountants." He places a hand over hers and asks, "Unless you've brought something else to barter?"

Susan Richards has posed:
Blue eyes tracking her host, Susan chews her lower lip thoughtfully, though just for a brief moment before her tongue slips out, just to make sure she hasn't done any damage to her lipstick before she huffs out a soft sigh, "Oh yes, truly, a heavy cross to bear indeed. Hm... white, if you please?"

Sue lets out a soft little laugh and shakes her head, "Well! We both missed the show, what a shame. I didn't even hand out candy at home, you know? I swear, I was nearly Reed's level of lost in numbers."

Eyes roll once more and she murmurs dryly, "For the best, probably. I didn't even think of a costume this year, and if there's one thing attending a themed party here demands, it is the utmost effort in attire, isn't it? One can't simply show up in any little slip of something or other. You need to show off! It's half the fun! Well, perhaps not half. But at least a quarter. Maybe a third."

Eyebrows perk, fingers curling slightly under that touch as she snorts softly, "Ah yes, the _accountants_, you know if we had more of them, I imagine we could rely on their presence to scare off demonic invasions, alien armadas and more." One eyebrow lifts and she hums softly, "Oh, we could of course pay the fee in a bank transfer. But I imagine we might be able to offer something more unique. No death rays of course, not that a dance club needs one... imagine if it got mixed in with the lasers for some sort of disco revival? But I'm sure we've got a variety of nifty little trinkets we could offer. If my daughter hasn't snuck them out, or if Franklin hasn't 'borrowed' them to show off up in Westchester. But I'm sure we can come to an agreement."

Sebastian Shaw has posed:
"The accountants tend to frown when I take payment in kind, but I am sure we could negotiate something." Shaw replies simply. He then stands up and uncorks the bottle. "Prieur Montrachet," he introduces it, adding "Two thousand six," and then pours a glass for her as well as one for himself. He hmms at her comment about not being able to wear a slip, "I think, if anyone could, you'd be the one to pull off just a slip and little else. Though I am sure Dr. Richards might have a thing or two to say about it." He winks, and then says, "Excuse me, I'll reinstate your membership in just a moment. Just for you, or should we allow Dr. Richards back in the door as well?" Is he teasing? Or serious? Perhaps a little hard to tell. While he is gone, the food arrives. It's a tasteful plate of cheeses and meats and crackers delivered by a rather striking -- and very stylishly clad -- waitress.

Shaw returns just as she is walking to the elevator, and gives her not even a glance as he moves back to where Susan is sitting, "I do hope you will stay for awhile and provide me some company, unless you have a date to get to, and then I would hate to cause a delay in your paramour seeing a vision of you dressed and made up like this...though I'd love to try."

Susan Richards has posed:
"Oh, well, I don't know about upsetting the _accountants_... I mean, really..." She smirks and falls silent, eyebrows perking up at the mention of the vintage of the wine... polite pretending to understand? Or perhaps Mrs. Richards has been taking some courses in wine tasting. She does keep busy. And, really, once she's sipping it, it's easy enough to appreciate on its merits. She snorts softly and grins crookedly, "I don't know if I'd have the confidence to wear _that_ to a gala, even here. I mean, one needs to know her limitations. Also, the air conditioning's usually on at those things. Talk about catching a chill."

Sue's eyes drift to the waitress, her lips curving in a smile, fingers wiggling in a little wave, because even in the midst of renewing membership to the most exclusive and arguably debaucherous club on the planet, she can't fully supress her polite nature. She glances back over and murmurs thoughtfully, "Oh! I'll be sure to remind him the next time we speak. He's busy with... something, honestly I forget if it's trandimensional communication or..." She rolls her eyes and gestures vaguely with her free hand as she takes a deeper sip of wine, "Anyway, I'm trying _not_ to focus on science. It's been a rather lovely day of only tangentally scientific discussion."

Eyes settle back on Shaw and she grins lopsidedly, "Well, after the traffic to get across the island, I'm certainly not stopping in to agree to pay my dues and then rushing home. My phone will chirp if someone sets the kitchen on fire. I imagine I can linger and keep you company, you know, keep the accountants away."

Sebastian Shaw has posed:
"You're lucky in that you can disappear whenever they do come knocking." Shaw says, perhaps a bit of a play on words? He takes a sip of his drink, and then works on making himself a small sandwich, "I do apologize for being rude, and not nearly as well attired as you this evening, but if I am allowed to keep you for as long as I'd like this evening, I am sure we shall be here until the very early hours discussing whatever project you've been working on. At least one or two that you're allowed to mention."

His eyes flick over her figure again, "And I will be lucky to keep you for that long. But, first, do tell: how have you been of late? If you need to have a lady's night out, I am sure it can be arranged, discreetly of course..." Is he tempting her? Or just trying to sell her another feature of the club? Hard to say with Shaw really. He then digs in.

Susan Richards has posed:
Susan laughs softly and nods her head, draining her wine glass and murmuring dryly, "Yes, well, luckily I have no accountants to fear... and I can justify an Uber home tonight, so I think I'll have another drink myself." She snorts softly and narrows her eyes, "And come now! One of us was rather called to dress to impress, I think being already part of the club lets you skirt the dresscode requirement, hm?"

She laughs softly and perks her eyebrows, "Oh, I had a bit of a girls morning out, so I don't think I need to call a girlfriend to hang out with for the evening. A little night out on my own as it were? I mean, seeing as I'm renewing my membership to the club, I'll have to take a look about and see what happens." And then Sue pours herself another drink, settling into her seat for an evening of conversation... not that she's already ticking off what she can't mention in the way of ongoing projects or anything.